Love

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way - Pablo Neruda

And so as I look over the posts previous to this, I realize it may not be clear to the reader (if there is one) my feelings for the man whom I call Master.

Or even if it is clear that I call him such.

So let it be clear, now. That I indeed call him such. He is my owner. I am His. Despite my seemingly endless questions, and utter confusion of some matters. What everything eventually boils down to is that I am His. Even at times when I try to deny it, it remains true.

And honestly, I can't imagine life any other way.