Forever Taken, On An Elevated Deck

And Some Things I Haven’t Told You

Photo by Lukas Becker on Unsplash

The best words that I have ever written — I have written them, on an elevated deck.

In my entire life, of all the words that I’ve ever been able to muster, well, the best ones came on a wide wooden frame. The best words that ever formed in my mind, then somehow were magically accessed, and then even more miraculously put into pen — these were all written in the exact same spot.

Now, I have written a ton.

Well over a thousand individual pieces of erotic passion, some done very well and some I’d like to burn. But the vast majority of what I have written, I have written elsewhere, be it on a patio, on a break at work, or even just sitting in my car.

However, whether it be the Memoir of how I give you, My Love, my best gift I can find in my last breath, or my words found through accounting for the deepest love a person can feel for another in my description of ours, in My Francesca. Or how much it meant to me to be your Dom, or what you meant to me, as you became My Collared Sub. Or the many many other pieces I have written to you of our passion and love, that I am so very proud of. And yes, even the things I never published but were just for you and me.

Those words that only you read, My Love. Just journal entries shared between us, or personal tasks and guidance to helped you grow as my submissive angel. Each of these words somehow gathered together on wood stilts, 2x4s bonded with rusty nails and a worn look of chipped green paint. Evenings as I sat in a wooden red-stained Adirondack chair, with such a beautiful alpine sky as my companion, lit so bright that I always felt you’d fall in love with it, just like I have.

I write this now, on that same elevated deck; that same chair.

That same girl, in my heart, as my one and only muse for my “best” words. That passion found only in you, my sweet dear Orange Sky and Kitten.

Being here gives me peace.

It makes me proud, looking back, that I could find the words so easy to convey the feelings I’ve felt inside for you, My Love. That you never had to wonder what I was thinking, as God held my pen, giving me the sentences to hold your heart close to mine.

At the moment, I am breathing signs of life when I shouldn’t, for my air is gone, but for some weird reason, I can feel your energy.

That was what you used to always say — “feel my energy.”

“When I cannot be there, please, feel my energy. When I’m unable to be in contact, please, please, please feel my energy. It means a lot to me that you do. I am serious. I mean it. Please, feel my energy.”

I feel it, Kitten. I really do.

I cannot help it if I look a fool, knowing we have not communicated in a few days now, and not really communicated in over a week. That it was two weeks ago tomorrow that I knew, somehow I’d be writing sad songs, not passionate ones of our physical union. Nobody wants to hear sad songs, I see. They want gratification, but fortunately for me, I just don’t give a shit what people want.

As I am happy to write this one because I know things that they do not. I know these things and I can feel your energy because of them. You are in a strange way, in the Adirondack to my right, an empty chair that is always just waiting for you.

On my blog, I used to say in the description, “Forever Taken”, as a signal to her and anyone curious that the answer was — “No. Don’t bother. Just her. Not interested.” Saying “taken” seemed so weak and unoriginal; saying “forever,” said what I felt.

I said “Forever”, because I meant it, as I still do.

Standing my ground in the face of adversity, even completely aware and knowing all of what was said in our last exchange, which I will not repeat, other than the gist and the worst part, which was “goodbye, forever”.

But Mr. Romantic is just that –– resolute in the storybook ending that seems so impossible at this moment, telling myself that you are worth the fight for that “forever”. So I shall stand my ground, no matter how foolish it may seem.

I choose to fight for true love. I choose it, no matter the cost, and trust me, I intend to pay that cost in spades.

So give me my goddamn pen and quill, because I am standing in the rain, looking a fool, on my elevated deck.

I like it here.