I’m having one of those come-to-Jesus soul searching moments.  Why am I going?

I picked this life.  I want this life.  I would not be happy in a different life.  Yes, I have some intense conflict.  I know where my loyalties lie.  I know what my responsibilities are.  This is part of mastery.  It is.  This is making a choice.  This is about going out to the store and picking the mattress and the frame and the sheets and the pillows and lying down in it.  In a tacky ass crotchless body stocking for you.  I think they are so silly.  But no problem.  I can do that.

And I will smile.  And yeah, some pieces will be a polite fiction.  I don’t have to love every page to love the story.  I need to not feel bitter about my choices.  I really and truly am making them of my own free will.  This is what I want.

But it’s really hard sometimes.  These are very old wounds.  You know.  It is terrifying.  This is where I need to stop bitching.  I need to make a choice.  And I need to climb in that bed and smile or I need to get the fuck out of it.  I don’t want out.  I don’t in any part of me.

I’m sorry I make this so hard.  I have to be sure this is really what you want.  This must be something you want very much if you will put up with so much.  I can stop testing now.  I’m sorry.  Some decisions are harder than others and I have to ensure that you really want it this much.  I have to make sure this isn’t going to hurt me in the long run.  This will be no big deal.  Really.