Bible Study

Our love must not be a thing of words and fine talk. It must be a thing of action and sincerity (1 John 3:18).”
I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Bible, 2 Timothy iv. 7.

It is more blessed to give than to receive. Bible, Acts xx. 35.

Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting. Bible, Daniel v. 27.

LOL, I found these special quotes for my secret admirer, the bitch, who was hurling biblical phrasing at me today. Of course, they weren't quite phrased right...her last nights should have been "Judge not lest ye be judged", really quite a simple one, but then I did have 12 years of Catholic School Training behind me to make this easier for me. Well, and of course a degree in Comparative World Religions. Kinda fun! I shouldn't try to tax her one functioning brain cell, she might need it to remember how to breathe.

Malcolm and I had a really great conversation today. I love his morning calls, filling me in on his mood, his assignment, and taking me along with him for the ride and the climb. I love being HIS Dot in the Pocket! Today he got to be in a bucket out by the airport. He looks so friggin good in his bucket too. LOL, he just looks good, period. Sigh...happy place! But he talked today about how much he loves what he does, and how fulfilled he is at work. We also reminisced about our weekend again...it will be another long stretch at this point before I get to see him again, because obviously I have a house-guest with no sense of propriety or boundaries due to her illness, who would most likely walk in and watch, while telling me how big my ass is. LOL, it's ten times big, for those of you who were wondering. Plus this is his Boston weekend, and I would never interfere with his sense of family, and his commitment to his children. I love him too much, and respect that of him too much to ever grouse about our away time. But I do miss his arms wrapped around me at night holding me while I sleep. I miss his breath on the patch of my neck behind my ear, and the things he whispers to me as we both drift off. I even miss the way he fires all my hot flashes in the middle of the night because he projects so much damn heat. I miss, most of all, waking up to his gentle laughter, his soft kisses, and the love he cocoons me in.
I had a memory today, of Saturday night...there was just SO MUCH to that night, so many little moments that I can take and make each into it's own vignette. And it was all so phenomenal, not a moment among it that was just ordinary. And THAT is what so astounds me about this lifestyle...the quality of the life that you actually get to live...the number of astounding moments that you get to cherish. One moment that came back into my mind today... It was getting very late, or early depending on how you wish to see it. I think it was approaching or passing the 3 am hour. It had already been a night for the ages, but Malcolm just wasn't done yet. He wrapped himself around my back, and was whispering in my ear, but whispering so very low so that V&J couldn't hear. V thought I was falling asleep but Malcolm assured her with an evil little laugh that I was JUST fine. He loves domming me this way, with words instead of force. He'd whispered his love, how he was glad he'd found me, how much he wanted to do everything with me, the whole package, the whole life...He whispered naughty things too, things he wanted me to do for him, with him, to him. He whispered that he'd do anything for me if only I'd just ask. And he demanded to know who I thought I belonged to. To affirm it, say it, believe it, and feel it. I think V thought I'd passed out because it was so precious, and I could barely hear...and I WANTED to hear. So I stopped breathing for a moment to let those words...that declaration fill me and begin to resonate within me. And I cried.
I read a book once titled "How Full is Your Bucket?" And it talked of a theory concerning building people up or tearing them down. What I have with Malcolm is so very different because when I'm with him and afterward, I don't feel tired and empty. I feel sated, and full...replete. He fills me up with himself (ok, I know that could be taken either way, LOL), and he builds me up so that I'm satisfyingly happy. Not manically happy, hoping it will last, but that relaxed easy happy that comes from confidence and fulfillment. I'm still uneasy some days because the whole concept is so foreign. I'm used to looking over my shoulder, used to wondering, worrying, and obsessing about which shoe will drop next. And then I think what a difference he's made in my life already in small ways. I remember when I first met him, I craved violence...needed it to complete my experience. He gave me what I begged him for, but I understood that he didn't like hurting me, didn't like that I'd needed to be hurt. And he set about showing me that he can do it differently and still make me complete. So much so that I don't want that anymore, at least not to the extent I'd been reaching. No more bruises, no more bad aches, no more sore throats and black eyes. Only good aches in good places.
I'm taking Sunday off from Mrs D. Mr promises to be here early to pick her up so that I can have some recoup time. It's supposed to be nasty out, but Wallingfords calls. It might be too harsh out to get Apples, but who cares? The Jamaicans got em picked and ready anywho! LOL, the real purpose of going Apple picking, as any REAL Central Mainer knows, is to get the DONUTS. God love ya Wallingford family, cuz we sure do!