Last night was my first night out since my lover gave up on everything. Honestly, pathetic as it is, I had not done my hair or makeup since September 17th. I’ve just been a zombie. Unacceptable.

I did my hair last night and started looking like myself again. I did my makeup- thick perfect eyeliner- perfect lavender eye shadow with glitter. Wine toned lipstick…

And then I peeled myself inside a low cut tight-in-all-the-right- spots sweater. It was a me I have not seen in too long. I wear a cross around my neck. Never leaves me since a dear friend put it on me during a very hard time. (Thanks to my dear beautiful D.F.) But, it hit me. I had it. One more thing, in my closet, unopened.

I dug it out beneath everything stacked on top of it to make me forget it existed. (Like that worked.) I opened the box and there it was, in my hands, wanting to be used.

I put that thick black leather collar around my neck. I got it good and tight. It was so heavy and the studs and front ring glimmered.

I took several moments and lost myself…in myself.

I am sweet as hell. I am funny. I am sarcastic. I am smart and witty. I keep an open mind. I am talented and compassionate. I am beautiful on the inside.

But I stood there- dark hair shadowing my pale face. Those eyebrows like a black and white classic movie star- those high cheek bones. The thick eye liner making the ring of fire in my eyes flicker like visual passion. Those wine seeping pouty lips and a thick collar of ownership topping my curves of a perfect hourglass figure.

I am by no means under any illusion that I am perfect. But damn, as beautiful as I am on the inside- I match it well on the outside. For the first time in my life, I see it. I can’t half live over a man that can’t explain why he is cutting off the ones that love him- a man that can’t even apologize for the mess he left for me to clean… A man that took the role of Master over me, to own me.

I am the best friend, the partner, the lover- The one that understands and pushes a man to be his best without demanding his best be what is best for me. I am the woman you want to take around your friends, family and coworkers, but not for long because you want to take her home and feel nerves tingle you didn’t even know existed. I am a pleaser. I am a rare, once in a life time precious gift. I am too rare to be owned. I am a strong and stunning gift from God. God owns me. He may let/allow me to brighten your life and give you memories that will make you smile randomly everyday for the rest of your life- but I am not something any mortal man can own.

I am one heck of a catch and if you don’t catch me- If you let me fall…. I will always be that one. That sigh over a cup of coffee when the breeze brings my scent or one of those little things cross your mind. I am the one that got away. And if you allow that to happen, I am precious enough that my absence will hurt you far after someone has come to heal my pain.

The collar is back in the box, put away. I may wear it for someone, one day. I will likely wear it for myself, alone. But if I need to talk to my Master, the one that owns me. I will close my eyes and I will pray. God is the only one with the power to own my will.

Lesson learned.