There has always been a part of me that absolutely falls apart when I can’t help someone I love to solve a problem or get through a rough time. Empathetic? That’s an understatement. I have learned to control it outside my inner circle, however, when the inner circle is struggling, so does my soul.
It isn’t a D/s thing completely. I am like this with everyone. The feeling of hurt, helplessness to solve the problem, wanting to take over and make it better is universal in all areas of my life, kink or not. When Daddy is struggling, it is multiplied to degrees I didn’t know possible.
The struggle is real in the realm that I feel bad that our time is limited to next to nothing. So I am sad and worried about that. I miss the time, the talks, the love-making, the play. I miss all of it. But when he is struggling (going on two months now) my heart aches in ways that I haven’t found the words to describe.
To be of service as his Toy is my main goal. When things are really bad and we don’t have the time, my service, while still wanted and much-needed, is a secondary role. I hate this part of our relationship. I hate that it is part-time, and fit in when we can with no guarantee of a next time. While I see a million things I can do and ways I can serve him, I am not afforded the opportunity. But this is where my priority lies right now. As secondary to the primary while he figures things out. I have accepted it, but it doesn’t make it easy. It is the hardest thing I have done in relation to being able to support someone.
I don’t have much to offer Daddy in the goals he has right now. I know he is focused on moving his life forward with things he is feeling time pressured to work out. These things currently do not involve me for various reasons. Knowing this has been a struggle but through the years I have told myself to not focus on what I can not give, but to focus on what I can give that others can not, or will not. That has helped me through a lot of struggling times. I will offer what I can. What I am good at.
To be a little arrogant, ok, a lot arrogant, I am good at taking care of Daddy. He doesn’t always let me and I am still trying to determine why that is, but when he does, I do a very good job. Doing the dishes at his house, helping with laundry, helping him wash the car and motorcycle (being trusted with the motorcycle), making dinner with him, and the list could go on. All of these are physical things. I hope that helping with them will give him time to focus where he needs to. I actually don’t consider it D/s, it’s just part of who I am and what I do in a relationship. So, when I can’t, it is a struggle and makes me feel like I am not holding up my end in the relationship.
I may not be able to offer the huge things that have his focus and attention at the moment, but I can provide other things that his primary struggles with. I have determined to try and not make it a competition of who gives more, but a balance of who gives what, when, as it best serves all of us, but in particular, Daddy. This is not easy. Focusing on my “secondary” status has the benefit of reminding me of my place and role. That focus also has a negative impact of reminding me of my place and role. It is a double-edged sword.
Knowing my place and accepting it lifts the burden of always wondering where I fit in his life. As he ebbs and flows, reminding myself that secondary doesn’t mean “less than” has become important. His actions may at times have me feeling less important, less needed, less wanted, less desired. The situation may at times have me feeling that secondary does mean “not as important as the primary”. The words swirl in my head and perhaps that is where the feeling of being less than comes from. Not Daddy’s actions, but my perception of them. While I strongly believe I can not always control how I feel, and there are times, that the fetal position drowning in tears seems to be the only answer, it is how I respond to those feelings that matter. Telling Daddy how I feel is crucial. How he handles that knowledge is on him. He must have the knowledge in order to help me feel better or differently about anything, let alone how I feel about the lack of time with him.
Something as simple as giving him a foot rub and watching his face as he starts to relax, even while holding the phone, gives me great pleasure. Anything that may bring some kind of release to his stress and pain, and allow him to have a clear mind for even a second. If I am capable of that then I can feel less useless. Last night, I felt a little less useless.
I hope he understands that it is the smallest of things that make me happy. While I miss, complain, and hint at the lack of play and intimacy, and fucking him, and how it impacts me, I want him to know that it truly isn’t solely about that. It is about the time with him. The relationship we have. The multifaceted, complicated, glorious, mind-blowing, never before experienced or imagined relationship we have. Friends, lovers, confidants, sibling-like, D/s, all encompassed, fucking amazing relationship. The relationship we show people, and the one we keep to ourselves.
Yes, rubbing his feet made me feel useful. It made me feel like I am helpful and while I wanted more, I always want more because our time is so limited, it was beautiful being able to touch him and help him relax. It is beautiful feeling useful.