Oddest Feeling

We've begun to spank again.  There's a little suspicious voice that jabbers away in my head, warning me to be cautious about even saying that out loud and perhaps jinxing it all.  More than that, I find that I am simply reticent about the fact of that.  I can't really pinpoint the source of my uneasiness.  I really never expected to feel so shy about our SM connection, and I am a little confused by the whole thing.

Part of it, I think, is that it feels like we are beginning down the path to defining a new relationship for ourselves.  What was is no more and what is coming into being is still so new and so sweet and so tentative.  I don't know where we are going to end up, and I am feeling very protective of it -- and of us.

Readers of this blog and of its predecesor, The Swan's Heart, know the two of us as an established partnership, already pretty well sure of our roles and connections when we first appeared out here in the blog world.  We weren't new when we started writing about our lives.  Those tender, early, getting to know you days of our relationship were already years gone by that time -- we'd known each other for three and a half years.  It was June 25, 2000, when I first poked my head up on the 1 Household Discipline listserve, to direct a question to a man who called Himself "Cincytop."  From that very first, almost confrontational salvo, through to coming to know one another as friends, play partners, lovers, and collaborators in an intensely erotic power exchange, we moved along our own private trajectory -- and we did that in private.  It wasn't until we were solidly who we eventually came to be together, that we started to write.

All these years of blogging, we've been out in public, sharing the ups and downs of our lives.  We've been pretty consistently open and revealing of who we are, and we've played out the dramas of our lives without shielding very much.  I don't see myself as particularly shy, bashful, or prudish.  My parts and pieces are spread all over this blog, and that's really just fine.

This, however, feels pretty intensely precious to me, and I find that I am reticent to lay it all out like a butterfly pinned on a specimen card.  I want this, and I want it for myself.  I find that I am holding it close to my heart, cradling it close, listening to it breathe softly and sweetly, hour by hour.

It is the oddest feeling.  Can you see me, shaking my head?

swan