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Dear Angela
Thank you.
Sometimes I get caught up in a pursuit of happiness that can’t be caught, but must be enticed and welcomed with calm.
Sometimes, like today, I am calm and centered, and can realize how happy I am.
You are part of that.
Today I don’t expect we shall have a chance to speak, I don’t expect to have any kinky fun, or engage with your wit and wisdom, nor even to share the joys of your successes.
Today I am meeting with a well-heeled client, which means a serious payday and, most likely, an upgrade to our contract that will kick my bonus schedule into high gear. Yet here I am awake and alert well before I need to commute. So, I had a chance to realize that I have a kindle to take to office. I have a cage to lock away my penis. I have shaved balls. I have the beauty of a great novel to enjoy. I have peace and shelter. I have the confidence that another day will be equally hope-filled and happy, and that I can make a difference to someone I love.
All of that comes because of knowing you.
You haven’t made me happy.
You have taught me how to be happy.
You have shown me how to be grateful, and how grateful living promotes happy living.
You have shown me the peace that comes with living authentically.
You have allowed me to know a staggering and previously unimaginable combination of contentment with today and hope for better tomorrow.
So, Thank You, dear Angela.
You are so much more than Mistress. So much more than simple language can express, that all that can be said is “Thank you.”
Thank you doesn’t say enough, but it says what is foremost.
Mr.J
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Well. Gee. Um.
I dunno.
Who me?
Quite honestly, I am stunned. I am overwhelmed. I am many things.
But mostly I’m just an everyday girl who happens to like boys and is perhaps a bit more kinky than one might expect upon meeting me. I am also a girl who is rather fond of this particular gentleman. And he takes my fondness like a champ.
Because, believe you me, my fondness can come at a cost. Because some days, those days when I’m just miserable and so damn cranky that I want to eat carbs and drink margaritas until not only do my hips triple in size overnight but they wake up with a hangover, I can be a BITCH. A mouthy, intolerant, impatient BITCH.
And he knows this BITCH!
Yet he chose to speak to the everyday girl who believes in gratitude, the girl who sees gratitude as an almost living breathing verb, the girl who knows that gratitude is prayer and gratitude saves lives and heals hearts.
And we’ll leave this here for now.
Thank you, Mr.J.
