This is my life... or so I think, sometimes.

Then I think a bit harder. I realize that despite his wants and worries, he didn't hunt me down. Didn't tell me 'no'. Didn't make me feel ashamed for enjoying myself.

He didn't hold me back when I wanted to go out, he encouraged me, made it possible, told me he loved me and let me go.

He didn't complain when I came back late. Didn't rub my face in it. Didn't blame me. Didn't make me feel too ashamed for wanting to be elsewhere.

Yeah... I fucked up. BIG TIME. Papers, those stupid damned college papers, I came downstairs in a hurry because I just wanted to NOT be asked questions I had no answer for. I wanted to go. Wanted to look at porn, get my job application, play wrestling games, try to be me for a while again.

I didn't want to think about responsibilities.

Sound familiar? For those of you playing along at home, this is the point in Jax's emotional cycle when she needs to REALLY watch her ass or she'll end up doing something so stupid that it WILL piss off the people who matter, leave her running again.

Can't run. Have things to do, people to see.

More importantly, have something truly wonderful waiting at home... at least, so to speak. *smile* I've got a Caleb. Why is this so ultra-special? Why, when he may or may not like what I do, what I am? Why, when he's depressed, when he is gloomy, when I feel guilty? Why, when all I want is to be AWAY from here?

Because it's not him I am running from.

Because he cheers me up, because he makes me feel less guilty.

Because he does the stupid little things for me - bringing down a soda from upstairs when he wasn't planning to go up, or to come back down... snuggling me even when he's feeling sick or hot or whatever, just because he knows it matters to me... letting me cry, when I can.

I've been having a lot of fun these last few days, rediscovering an old friend, playing, testing, learning, and generally getting a kick out of life. I've felt happy, safe... and haven't wanted to come home.

Let me say that again: I have not wanted to come home.

Why is there such confusion in this? Because of the word 'home'. I used it. Honestly. Meaningfully. Thought about it, and realized that this IS my home, the Dixon household. Not the best or most personalized home, but somewhere ok. Somewhere that will still be there when I'm done exploring.

But I didn't WANT to come home. See, I'm NOT done exploring.

I want Caleb to come with me. I want him to come over and see Megan and Slash. I want him sitting beside me, curled up on the floor, while we watch "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" and "Iron Monkey" at Grr's house. I want him in the car with me when I go to get Kadin. I want him near me when I get played with, want him holding me when I cum. I want him to read my stories. I want him to see how frightened I am sometimes, so he can understand why it feels so good to be safe.

I want him, period.

He's started writing, you know... or rather, you didn't know, not if he didn't tell you, which is why none of this is a link to any of his writings. But he has.

Anyway, one of the things he wrote about was how much he wanted me to be home. Here. *sigh* I am here, now... and he's out having Coffee or whatever with Brandi. Does it bother me? Sort-of. I'd half-hoped to see him, snuggle for a couple hours, go back over to Slash's in time to say good morning to Megan and play with her briefly/talk with her briefly... then what?

Good question. Home, if I'm smart and sober enough. Home to where a beautiful boy is waiting for me, with eyes that sing, with long, pullable hair, who is very snuggly indeed.

He says he is submissive in a way... that he wants me to be happy, wants to make me happy, wants to be mine. He IS mine. That, oh loyal readers, is NOT changing. MY Caleb. Happy? Right now, I am happy... and no, he's not directly involved most of the time. But if I did not have my Caleb to come home to, if I didn't talk with him, hug him, know that he was here, I would not be happy at all.

He matters to me. I love him.

And yes, we are still engaged. *grin* Just finished a shower, and have the ring on my finger as I'm typing this.

---

In other news... Mistress K seems to be half-afraid that I'm loosing my Domme outlook. Loosing? Gods, no. Just balancing it out, so I can dive into it again.

This is me - a scale with hundreds of different cups and weights and angles... weight down one side, another raises. I've been being VERY focused-ly Domme. Now, I'm balancing it.

And NOW, I'm going to go eat Gummi worms and wait to hear familiar sounds on ICQ.