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Someone To Watch Over Me

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Love a woman who writes.

You will know her because her clothes may never be completely clean, due to the coffee stains and ink spills. She’ll have problems with her closet space, and her laptop is never boring because there are so many words, so many worlds that she’s cluttered amidst the space. Tabs open filled with obscure and popular music. Interesting factoids about Catherine the Great, and the immortality of jellyfish. Laugh it off when she tells you that she forgot to clean the house, that the laundry is not done, or that her clothes are lost among the books and papers ~ so it may take her longer to get ready, her shoes left here and there and jewelry in little bowls next to stacked books and notes.

Kiss her under the lamppost, when it’s raining. Tell her your definition of love.

Find a woman who writes. You’ll know that she has a sense of humor, a sense of empathy and kindness, and that she will dream entire worlds and universes for you. She’s the one with the faintest of shadows underneath her eyelids, the one who smells of coffee and Coca-cola and peach tea. You see that woman hunched over a notebook. That’s the writer. With her fingers occasionally smudged with charcoal, with ink that will travel onto your hands when you interlock your fingers with hers. She will never stop, churning out adventures, of traitors and heroes. Darkness and light. Fear and love. That’s the writer. She can never resist filling a blank page with words, whatever the color of the page is.

She’s the woman reading while waiting for her coffee and tea. She’s the quiet one with her music turned up loud (or impossibly quiet), separating the two of you by an ocean of crescendos and decrescendos as she’s thinking of the perfect words. If you take a peek at her cup, the tea or coffee’s already cold. She’s already forgotten it.

Use a pick-up line with her if she doesn’t look too busy.

If she raises her head, offer to buy her another cup of coffee. Or of tea. She’ll repay you with stories. If she closes her laptop, give her your critique of Tolstoy, and your best theories of Hannibal and the Crossing. Tell her your characters, your dreams, and ask if she’s gotten through her first novel.

It is hard to love a woman who writes. But be patient with her. Give her books for her birthday, pretty notebooks for Christmas and for anniversaries, moleskins and bookmarks and many, many books. Give her the gift of words, for writers are talkative people, and they are verbose in their thanks. Let her know that you’re behind her every step of the way, for the lines between fiction and reality are fluid.

She’ll give you a chance.

Don’t lie to her. She’ll understand the syntax behind your words. She’ll be disappointed by your lies, but a woman who writes will understand. She’ll understand that sometimes even the greatest heroes fail, and that happy endings take time, both in fiction and reality. She’s realistic. A woman who writes isn’t impatient; she will understand your flaws. She will cherish them, because a woman who writes will understand plot. She’ll understand that endings happen for better or for worst.

A woman who writes will not expect perfection from you. Her narratives are rich, her characters are multifaceted because of interesting flaws. She’ll understand that a good book does not have perfect characters; villains and tragic flaws are the salt of books. She’ll understand trouble, because it spices up her story. No author wants an invincible hero; the woman who writes will understand that you are only human.

Be her compatriot, be her darling, her love, her dream, her world.

If you find a woman who writes, keep her close. If you find her at two AM, typing furiously, the neon gaze of the light illuminating her furrowed forehead, place a blanket gently on her so that she does not catch a chill. Make her a pot of tea, and sit with her. You may lose her to her world for a few moments, but she will come back to you, brimming with treasure. You will believe in her every single time, the two of you illuminated only by the computer screen, but invincible in the darkness.

She is your Shahrazad. When you are afraid of the dark, she will guide you, her words turning into lanterns, turning into lights and stars and candles that will guide you through your darkest times. She’ll be the one to save you.

She’ll whisk you away on a hot air balloon, and you will be smitten with her. She’s mischievous, frisky, yet she’s quiet and when she has to kill off a lovely character, when she cries, hold her and tell her that it will be alright.

You will propose to her. Maybe on a boat in the ocean, maybe in a little cabin in the Cascades. Maybe in Seattle. Maybe San Francisco. Philadelphia. Maybe outside her publisher’s office. Because she’s radiant, wherever she goes. Maybe even outside of a cinema where the two of you kiss in the rain. She’ll say that it is overused and clichéd, but the glint in her eyes will tell you that she appreciates it all the same.

You will smile hard as she talks a mile a second, and your heart will skip a beat when she holds your hand and she will write stories of your lives together. She’ll hold you close and whisper secrets into your ears. She’s lovely, remember that. She’s self made and she’s brilliant. Her names for the dogs might be terrible, but you’ll be okay with that. A woman who writes will tell your nieces and nephews fantastical stories.

Because that is the best part about a woman who writes. She has imagination and she has courage, and it will be enough. She’ll save you in the oceans of her dreams, and she’ll be your catharsis and your 11:11. She’ll be your firebird and she’ll be your knight, and she’ll become your world, in the curve of her smile, in the hazel of her eye the half-dimple on her face, the words that are pouring out of her, a torrent, a wave, a crescendo - so many sensations that you will be left breathless by a woman who writes.

Love a woman who writes because you deserve it. She’s witty, she’s empathetic, enigmatic at times and she’s lovely. She’s got the most colorful life. She may be living in the big city or she may be living in a rustic cabin. Love a woman who writes because a woman who writes, reads.

A woman who writes will understand reality. She’ll be infuriating at times, and maybe sometimes you will hate her. Sometimes she will hate you too. But a woman who writes understands human nature, and she will understand that you are weak. She will not leave on the Midnight Train the first moment that things go sour. She will understand that real life isn’t like a story, because while she works in stories, she lives in reality.

Love a woman who writes.

Because there is nothing better than a woman who writes. :heart:
 
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We have a ritual... every morning.
We get up together and I put on the kettle.
As the water boils I measure out the dark french roast coffee and grind it.
Transferring the ground coffee into the french press
and brushing it clean to get the full measure.
Just as the water boils ~ but not a hard boil ~ I pour it over the coffee.
And wait. About 5 minutes.
Stirring the coffee before pressing it down.
Pouring it out into the preferred container of the day.
Adding half and half.

By the time he arrives in the kitchen the coffee is ready for his hand.
He kisses me.
"Wife coffee is the best coffee."

this is love.
 
Gianbattista said:
I'm happy, from my novice standpoint, to answer questions too. I will add most of the bdsmers here, and those I met from here in real life, have been patient, and answer questions and let me find my own answers at my own pace both. I don't think I respond to'the lifestyle' :eek:. But rather my own feelings, desires, some of which confuse and conflict me, and also the desire to foster the 'magic' in my relationship and our communication.


I am not ready for any 'role'. :) And it is hard to avoid this temptation I think, because how else do we communicate who we are to others? :confused: to make contact with potential partner but, for me, to make friends who understand an aspect of my self that is fragile as a glass bauble. What I enjoy is a greater freedom to be me. I don't describe my self as 'sub' or 'little' or 'primal prey' or anything. I am me. I love the BDSM board 'pick your label' and I don't think I have to pick one...I am Elle. How I relate to Gianbattista is unique for me. If I were to be in this mindset with someone else how it played out might be different, but I'd still be 'Elle'. For now that's good enough for me.
Click to expand...

Welcome, Elle!:rose:

So glad to see you here, and I look forward to hearing more from your perspective. :)
 
cascadiabound said:
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/bd/4e/db/bd4edb4852264b3d185a0f931332be14.jpg

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/8a/79/5f/8a795f13ad4c2eed8c183c3eaaef322e.jpg

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/24/48/79/244879eb4f3927b036d056630ee5932f.jpg

We have a ritual... every morning.
We get up together and I put on the kettle.
As the water boils I measure out the dark french roast coffee and grind it.
Transferring the ground coffee into the french press
and brushing it clean to get the full measure.
Just as the water boils ~ but not a hard boil ~ I pour it over the coffee.
And wait. About 5 minutes.
Stirring the coffee before pressing it down.
Pouring it out into the preferred container of the day.
Adding half and half.

By the time he arrives in the kitchen the coffee is ready for his hand.
He kisses me.
"Wife coffee is the best coffee."

this is love.
Click to expand...


The simple things are just so beautiful aren't they?......just like this :heart:
I need more simple in my life.
 
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I love the feeling of his hand on my shoulder.
Silently conveying his pride in me.
And to the room that I am his.
This reassuring gesture fills me with warmth.
Even when my voice is strong and full of passion and self confidence.
Sometimes his hand lightly on my shoulder signals that I have made my point...
that I can take it down a notch... no need to be strident.
I take a deep breath and look around.
Yes. I have said enough.

I love that I can trust the silent language between us.
 
Gianbattista said:
Oh, thank you wild honey :rose: I am so glad you are pleased I arrived here. I am dipping my toe more in here in the playground, and I admit, familiar names draw me still :D.
Click to expand...

I am flattered by your compliment. :eek::rose:

I enjoy reading your posts on the BDSM board and the GB, but I admit to lurking more than I post.;)

Please... call me Honey. :)
 
Gianbattista said:
I don't post on GB any more :(. I know your name though :rose: Honey, it shall be. :rose:
Click to expand...

The GB can be a rough place, there's no doubt. I have learned to put on blinders and stick to the threads that are mostly devoid of drama and nonsense. Books, tea, music, gardening, girl talk... there are many posters over there worth spending time with, it just takes a bit to suss them out. ;)
 
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