MinaTomoe

Maybe "sub frenzy" means something different than what I think it means. If it does, I'm sorry that I'm using it in the wrong context...but I will be using that phrase a few times throughout the course of this writing.

It's like there's this piece missing, or like BDSM play is this WONDERFUL drug that I want, need, lust after, and, even though I try, I can't live without it. It's a sweet, sweet drug. And I, like so many people, love to be high on this drug.

There come times when I think, "I can live life without this. I don't need this "drug" to be a fully functional me." And I do it. I go "cold turkey" from my drug of choice. Days can go by, without even giving it a second thought...days soon turn into weeks.

But then the frenzy happens.

Sometimes it hits like a tsunami, trying to drag me into the deep depths of a depressing abyss that I don't want to reside in. Sometimes it's like, flutters. It'll come, then go, then come again, ever so gently, teasing me.

But either way, the frenzy still happens. Either way, I need my drug. I need my fix, or else the insanity that ensues becomes a negative reflection of myself.

But, how to ask? How do you tell someone, "I need this fix. I need it slowly, badly, and in equally measured doses"? The thought of asking for it makes me feel guilty. I shouldn't be asking for this, on top of everything that I have in my life, of which I'm thankful for.

But it doesn't matter.

I chose my drug, and now my drug has chosen me. I wish to surrender myself to it more fully someday, if at all possible.

I wish to be consumed by it, and not have it come in such fleeting or subtle instances.
I hope for that day to come, where I don't have to worry about the presence or absence of my precious, precious drug.

I want balance.

I want peace.

I want my drug.

Here's something I wrote quite a while back on request. 

The year: 455 B.C.

The place: Athens, Greece; Crete, Greece

"The age of Failed Athenian Conquest"

We met in the marketplace, formally, at least. I had seen him several times before, but never really bothered to pay much attention. Georgios, of the island of Crete. Gods above, I hated Crete. That tiny bit of an island seemed of no importance in my life whatsoever. It had so little to give to the world, unlike my beautiful city, Athens. Little did I realize that this insignificant island would mean so much to me.

My father, Demetrios, did quite a lot of business with Georgios. The merchant and the olive grower. On this particular day, my father was in quite the good mood. He had allowed me to come with him to market to help with his booth, giving me the opportunity to watch him do what he did best- bartering. Georgios had made a special trip from the gods forsaken island, Crete, to come see us as well. That's probably why Father was so happy. He told him that he could have anything that he wanted; he could have anything at my father's booth that he could see.

"Her," was all I heard him say. Obvious shock came across my face as my father laughed heartily. They ended up "negotiating" some things for a while, making sure I was well out of earshot as they did so. They came back with smirks on their faces and explained the agreement. In exchange for any of the olives and oil that my father could ever need (or want, for that matter), Georgios could take me to live with him in Crete. It seemed like this was all to be a worst fear coming true.

It took months to become accustomed to the myriad changes that had happened. The island, the groves, the animals...the other girls...it was all quite overwhelming, to say the least.

Georgios must have sensed the sadness and longing I had in my heart. He took me to a field of orchids that were just beginning to blossom. He explained to me that my father had made a deal with him quite a long time before that day in the market.

Athens had put itself in the middle of conflict, strife, and unrest. My father did not want me to have to suffer with him though any of this, so he arranged to have me sent me to Crete, a more neutral place. The talk settled a lot of uneasy feelings, and lead to a more in depth conversation. There was a hush for a moment as we looked at the beauty around us. For the first time since I had left my home, everything had felt...right, perfect, deserved, and it was because of the compassion of Georgios.

With only the stars, gods and blossoms to witness, he made love to me for the very first time. Among the blossoms, I began to blossom into a woman, right before his eyes.

It was no surprise when our first son was born, he was named Thales. He was my "little blossom" that came from me blossoming in life. He has grown up to be the most handsome, cunning, rambunctious young boy that I have ever met. He spends a lot of time shadowing his father.

After Thales became of an age to walk and talk by himself, the family went on an "impromptu" trip to Alexandria, Egypt. Between the pristine pyramids, luxurious beaches and good trade, the trip had gone quite well. On our last evening before leaving, Georgios and I had some private time on the beach. We drank in the view, mentally noting every distinct intricacy of the lighthouse, the reflection on the water, the smell of the sea air. Laying back to take it all in, I took him inside of me. The passion and excitement between us reached new levels that we had never had before. It was something that could only happen on a whim, and I still lust for a recreation of that night.

The pregnancy had taken quite a toll on my body, and on the child as well. I was almost fearful that the gods were angry at us for making this child and were therefore going to take it away from me. We fought and made it through, thanking the gods for their mercy, and the child for her strength. Our first daughter, Zoe. A part of my life rests within her, as a part of her loves her life in any way possible.

Out in the olive groves early one day, just before the harvest, Georgios and I had a conversation about the joy of childbearing, and the amount of "fun" that goes into making a baby. He looked at me and smirked, suggesting that we indulge ourselves with a bit of that "fun" right then and there.

What can I say? The olive grove is a perfectly good place to spend the earliest hours of the morning on top of the man you love. Watching the dawn made it all the more perfect. Roxana is the perfect embodiment of the dawn. She is new to life, as dawn is new to day, and brings with her all of the beauty that is exclusive to the dawn.

Some children are born out of basic necessity. Some are born out of regret. But these children, our children, were born of love.

The gods-forsaken island of Crete had turned out to be so much more to me than I ever imagined.

(Sorry if this is a bit Harlequin-esque, fellow pervs...)