It is clear from the tides that the sea loves the moon, but the moon must adore the salty sea just as muchbecause without the sea’s reflections, the moon would never know her own beauty. Without the tides, she would never know what it is like to be loved. Without the vastness of the waters, she would never know her own abilities. Thus, the moon and the sea can dance together happily until the end of the Earth without regret.

I wish to love and be loved with passion, with intention to give all I can and get what I give. I need to have enchanted time, flowing resources to visit the comfort of home when staying home simply won’t do. In this way, we grow together, entwined; we become something more.

The desert is in full bloom. We came out to the desert to ride around and watch the landscape change. We rode around the broken, dirt roads between clumps of flowers and green-tinged brush for hours, just enjoying the late March air and seeing the colors light up the landscape. Riding through the desert was fun, but it wasn’t private enough, with all the cars on the roads and the people out taking pictures.

They stir in the bed next to me without waking. Dawn is hours off yet, but it feels like I should be up already. The hotel bed is firmer than my mattress at home. It’s not bad, just different. I turn my head to look at them, watching the slow meter of their breathing. They’ve relaxed and settled down again. Dark, bristled hair is pressed against my shoulder, gently pricking at my bare skin.

Connection “Hey, love. We’re here,” Chris calls into the kitchen. I put down the snacks I had been preparing and walk over to the door. Chris is leading her new friend from work into the house. “Hi there! I’m Liv.” I hold out my hand to her and give her a wide smile. Making new friends is hard—I’m putting in the effort. “Mel. Melissa.” She even seems unsure of what she wants me to call her.

“Feeling a little squirmy?” I snuggle in next to her on the couch, where she is lounging in a tee shirt and panties, scrolling through something on her phone. She’s been wiggling against the couch for a little bit. It’s so cute that all I can think about is watching her. Encouraging her. She blushes bright red and puts down her phone. “Maybe?” The way she says it, it sounds like a question.

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?” I turn the leather collar over in my hands, waiting for an answer. “Yes, my queen.” She decided on the title, not me. Still, it somehow makes me feel as powerful than any of the other things I’ve been called. In any case, I like having different people call me different things. I open the collar up and wrap it around her throat. A moment later it’s buckled on.

The musky scent of the candle fills the room. The combination of warm wax and spices always puts me in a mood. I imagine that after all these years together it does the same for her. The candles and the fire in the stove splash yellow and orange on the walls and makes it bright enough for me to see what I’m doing without any light bulbs on. It’s warm and comfortable.

We barely enter the club and she grabs my hand and tugs me away from the bar. Before I know it, I’m in wedged into a bathroom stall with her hands on my shoulders, pushing me down to my knees. My linen skirt bundles up around my knees and overflows out into the next stall. This would probably be embarrassing if I thought about it. She giggles and her hand leaves my shoulder.

I drop my phone onto the bed and start pulling my clothes off in my dark bedroom. I’m exhausted. These long days are killing me. It’s after midnight and all I need is a full night’s rest. Sadly, I can only manage about six hours. I have to be back at work in the morning. I can’t wait for this project to be over and done with. My sweater lands on the dresser, or at least that’s the intention.