to be or… not

Sir read my donut post while I was on the floor at His feet. He chuckled at the part about our son. And then… nothing. Usually when He reads a post, He comments out loud or texts me back in the app. I waited for what seemed like forever to hear His thoughts. Minutes passed. Long, drawn out, torturous minutes. I waited and I wondered. I started to freak out inside. I must’ve been a little fussy, too, because Sir asked what was wrong.

I asked Him why He didn’t respond. I said I thought it meant He didn’t like it.There were tears (why are there always tears)?! Sir said that He did like it, but He was worried.

“Honey, you shouldn’t ever worry about being that girl. You will never be that girl.”

He went on to say things about letting go and enjoying things. He told me for the umpteenth time that I worry too much. He reiterated that I could never be those things I don’t want to be.


Maybe I get so caught up in the girl I don’t want to be, that I forget the girl I am.


Good Monday Night!


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