1a. to be suitable, appropriate, or advantageous <a dictionarybelongs in every home>
1b. to be in a proper situation <a man of his ability belongs in teaching>
2a. to be the property of a person or thing —used with to <the book belongs to me>
2b. to be attached or bound by birth, allegiance, or dependency —usually used with to <they belong to their homeland>
2c. to be a member of a club, organization, or set —usually used with to <she belongs to a country club>
3a. to be an attribute, part, adjunct, or function of a person or thing <nuts and bolts belong to a car>
You say to me often that I belong to You. I agree readily and without thought. This is a fact. I have known that I am Yours nearly from the first. I am lucky to be Yours. I am Your property and will be for as long as my heart pushes blood through my body, whispering Your name with each percussive beat.
This past weekend. I don’t have a memory of most of it. The things I do remember have been replaying in my mind. I hear most often, the story related by Your mate, of her hearing my cries as You played with me and her statement that she believed the sound to be “One of ours.” This statement has stayed with me.
I was rolling it over in my thoughts, again, today. I don’t understand the impact it has made on me. I considered that perhaps there has been a void of belonging in my life. I don’t believe there has been. I’ve never felt the need to be a member of multiple clubs. So why then? Why does this particular inclusion matter?
This statement spoken by Your mate feels just as important, if not more so, as someone outside of Our group calling me “Your girl”. Is it that then – one more person acknowledging who I’ve become? If that is the case then why does the acknowledgment carry weight? I am Yours. You have said it. I agree. I know who I belong to. My pussy is very clear on the subject. Why does what anyone else has to say make a difference?
I don’t know. Thus far no amount of pondering has conjured an epiphany. I know only that the statement “One of ours” has me misty-eyed nearly every time I think of it. The why of it does not matter as much as the belonging. I am where I belong, with people who see and accept the genuine me. That is what carries weight. That is what matters. That is worth getting misty-eyed over.
Today I am grateful for: The distraction of television
Today’s funny moment: Greeting the UPS man plugged and wondering if I could take the package from him without said plug shooting down the leg of my yoga pants.
Training: 1 hour
Water: 16 oz
Corset: 26″ am, 25″ pm