Leave Out All The Rest

Don’t be afraid
I’ve taken my beating
I’ve shared what I’ve made
I’m strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I’ve never been perfect
But neither have you
So, if you’re asking me, I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I’ve done
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed
And don’t resent me
And when you’re feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest

~Linkin Park

I had such a good day, yesterday. Until…

I’d gotten a bunch of errands ran. I’d planned out the next 10 days worth of breakfast, lunch, and suppers. Then, I got everything I needed for those meals. I washed the kids laundry, and a load of laundry from Adam and my hamper. Folded, put away all the laundry, and started making chicken parm, for supper. I made a pizza, and packed the kids and Adam’s lunches for the next day.

I had also picked up my daughter’s prescription, from Walgreens pharmacy. When Adam got home, I was feeling accomplished. We were both in great moods. Then, he asked me if I’d done the very thing he’d spanked me for, the night before. I’d attempted to do it right after he brought it up, Monday, but the system was having “technical issues”. I’d fully intended to try again, later. I just completely forgot about it. I didn’t want to admit it, though. So, I used my keen ability to navigate a question without telling a lie…or the whole truth. This is what Adam has referred to as “side stepping the truth”. I hadn’t done that in a very long time. By the time we took our shower, I was feeling so shitty about doing that, it was written all over my face that something was wrong. Adam wrapped his arms around me, and softly asked me what was the matter? This made my guilt boil over. I tried to explain, but fumbled my words. Eventually, he understood what I was telling him. He lifted my chin, so I was looking him in his eyes, and told me it hurts him when I don’t trust him enough to just tell the truth. I explained, it was never that I didn’t trust him. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I get afraid he’ll think I’m not even trying, and eventually, he’ll give up. He reminded me, he’s not going anywhere, ever. He loves me, even when I do dumb stuff. He smiled, and said that he messes up too. We’re human. Then, he told me I knew what was coming. He asked me, “Right?” I could only tell him I wasn’t going to fight him. I know this is one of the worst offenses, in his eyes. It truly does make him feel terrible, thinking that I can’t trust him enough to just be honest and upfront. He’s never cruel to me. He doesn’t yell at me, curse at me, or call me names. Even when he spanks me, he nearly always doesn’t make it hurt as much as it probably should’ve. I have found myself surprised after spankings didn’t hurt like I’d expected them to. I can sometimes get a defiant attitude, when that happens, because I come away thinking whatever I’d done must not have been that big of a deal. At the same time, I’m realizing, Adam is in a tough spot, too. He has to navigate the thin line between being too easy on me, and being a hard ass. He doesn’t want to make me afraid to come talk to him. He always makes a point to tell me he appreciates when I admit my mistakes, and how proud of me that makes him. So, what exactly is he supposed to do, when I do admit my screw ups? I’m certain he considers that, if he’s too hard on me, I might not choose to be so honest, next time. Yet, if he lets it go, I walk away believing he wasn’t actually bothered by my actions. I’ve been pondering all of this, this morning. What I’m realizing, is that he absolutely should hold me accountable. I both deserve, and fully expect, to have a very sore behind, when I blatantly ignore rules and boundaries that have been clearly established. I’ve never been angry with Adam, after a spanking that hurts. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. I’ve gotten extremely frustrated, when I’ve done something he’s claimed was a big deal, and then turned around and shown me wasn’t, with a playful slap or two on my butt. Either it matters, or it doesn’t. At least, that’s how I feel. If he isn’t all that upset about something I’ve done, that’s okay. If it’s one of those, “don’t do it again” kinds of things, that’s okay too. I just need to understand exactly where the boundaries are at. If something is wrong enough to merit a few nights of having to sleep on my belly, I learn that’s a hard line for Adam. Except, when that same something is repeated, and then doesn’t result in an even remotely similar consequence. I get mixed messages, which in turn, makes me push against these boundaries. I do that, because I’m trying to figure out whether they’re real, or not. Whether he means it, or not. I don’t do it because I think it’s fun to annoy my husband. I feel safer, when I know what he expects, and what I should expect, when I cross the line. Last night, Adam asked me, “Do you really think I enjoy doing this? (Meaning, giving me a serious spanking). I paused to think about it, and concluded that no, he doesn’t. Adam sat on the side of our bathtub, and pulled me over his knees, as soon as we got out of the shower. When his strong arms were finished bringing his hard hand down on my behind, his hands immediately changed back into gentle ones. He lifted me up, and I began to cry. I was crying, because I was truly understanding how deeply he means it, when he tells me it hurts him more than it hurts me. I felt guilty all over again. Guilty for leaving him with no choice, but to spank me with authority, and make it count. I also felt guilt about the fact that I get relieved of my own guilty conscience, after he punishes me. He always assures me that he still loves me. He holds me, and comforts me. I don’t have to carry the weight of my own wrongs, afterward. He feels pressure to get it right, every single time. He shows me so much grace and mercy. He well understands my own fears about abandonment. He knows the damage that can be done, if he leaves me when I’m vulnerable. If he spanked me, and then walked away, leaving me to cry alone, it would seriously damage me. When I’m angry, or lashing out, he will leave me alone for awhile. Even then, I panic inside, afraid he won’t come back. More than anything else, I need to be reminded often, he’s got me. He’s coming back. He’ll be here when I need him. Whether I need him to pull me into his arms and hold me. To make love to me. To speak to me. To listen to me. Or, to call me out when I’m wrong.