Now, go to sleep little slut….

Now, go to sleep little slut….

When we first started talking on the phone, after exchanging lots of DMs and text and audio messages, we didn’t talk every day.

It started with a call every now and then. Whenever one of us was on his or her way to some place. That way we also had our first video chat. Which lasted for about a minute, as the connection was horrible.

But after a while a routine was established and we started to also have phone calls in the evening. By the time I would already be in bed when he called.

We talked the night away. Literally. The calls lasted for several hours. Up until 5 am my time (which is one hour earlier for Michael).

And even after talking for hours, there still were so many things to be said, to be talked about. And still are.

But soon I realised that being up most of the night, several nights in a row and then being able to function and work, doesn’t work. I was a bit tired, as you can imagine.

So at some point Michael started to send me to bed. He would tell me: “10 more minutes.” Every now and then I was able to talk him into a couple of more minutes or exchange minutes for points (of punishment). And then there were days when I would ask him myself to send me to bed. Or simply fall asleep while on the phone.

I hate when he sends me to bed and I love it.

I love it, because I know he has my best interest at heart. I love it, because it plays so well into the DD/lg dynamic we have. I love it, because it reminds me of my place.

I hate it, because I don’t get to spend more time with him. I hate it, because there are so many more things to be said and will have to wait. I hate it, because I miss him.

But mostly I hate it, because I know that he’s still awake, after I go to bed.

And here comes the little voice of insecurity. It tells me that he might realise that he doesn’t want to spend his time waiting for me, but would like to spend it with someone, who is around. Whether that is instead of me or in addition. My fears of not being enough, not being able to give what he needs play so well with that voice of insecurity.

Do I have any reason to feel insecure and be afraid? No!

Do I still feel this way? Yes!

Why? Maybe because I’m afraid that something so amazing might end. Maybe because somewhere deep inside me I believe that I don’t deserve that good things happen to me. Maybe because I’m simply me and those moments will come and go, and one day hopefully be gone.

I hate being insecure even more than I hate being send to bed.

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