I've gotten two letters from Kadin now... Kadin is my kitten, my wonderful slaveboy who is currently trapped with VERY infrequent internet access... and yet in the past two days he has sent two emails. I haven't answered either of them yet... I have been in pain, stressing... but I NEED to write to him, the poor boy... gods. I don't want him to think I have abandoned him, because I haven't. I will NOT. He belongs to me, and I always take care of my own.

I don't know if most of the people who want/love/desire/etc me realize that - if I belong to them... yeah, I want to please them. I want to make them happy. I want to be with them. But really, if push came to shove... I take care of my own. Before anything else, I take care of those treasured few who give themselves to me in ways no one else can match. They gave up their pride, their freedom, their future, all of it... put it in my hands. I respect them for that, and because of it, it is their needs I worry about first, even if it seems odd to put a slave's needs over those of a Master. It may be odd... but it's RIGHT, at least for me.

So I am headed back to bed, it's only 8:00 in the morning and I was up until 5:30, working on graphics for people (including me, check out the links button in the lineup over there), playing with War Wolf in an attempt to drown out how badly I hurt and how badly I missed people... gah. I need sleep. I need vicodin. I need someone to hit me over the head with a padded mallet. Or is that Mullet? *sigh* I miss the Scott, too... it's been a while since I have had any real contact with him and I get twitchy without my semi-daily dose of 'im.

While I'm briefly almost on the subject of other peoples' diaries... if you aren't reading cdghost you should be... I keep trying NOT to read, it leaves me aching... but I keep coming back, over and over again, because after the ache there's this sense of perfection, of something finished and beautiful... and oddly enough there's this image in my head of walking through a door and closing it behind me, then seeing a thousand more grand, wonderful doors before me. It makes me... content, afterward. Sore, often sad, because I've FELT that, I've seen that look and heard those words and wondered... but content regardless. *shruggle* Damned if I know why. But I like it. Go. Read. Trust me on this one.

One very tired jaxraven, signing off.