An Invisible Thread

It seems humans are constantly on the search for something, although if we’re asked to describe it, we’ll likely not know what it is. Being unsure of what it is called or where we can find it, we try to fill the void with possessions, single-serving lovers, and endless activities. We make our lives so busy we leave no time for thought while we try to keep up with the Jones’ and chase dreams we’ve never seen.

In the effort to claim what we feel is rightfully ours, we often push ourselves farther from what it is we’re searching for.

This used to be my life. I was guilty of filling the void with pleasantries in an attempt to escape the hollowness that shrouded me. I would give more than I had, take less than I deserved, and yet, I never found what I was searching for. There were moments where it felt I was holding it, only to discover it was only a superficial replacement.

I was thirty years old with 2 kids in tow before the object of my longing made itself clear. Without the job I thought was going to be a life-long career, leaving a relationship I knew would only make my despair worse, and starting over again, I knew something needed to change.

I had no money, no way to make a future that I could see, and yet I knew I was on the right path.

My Grandfather’s funeral took me back to my hometown, where a history of abuse had laced the memories created there. No matter, this was one trip that the taking was worth the pain, if only for that final goodbye. I remember watching my Grandmother show her bravery as she faced the condolences of her congregation and listening to her muted tears when she thought I was asleep, a thirty-year-old woman tucked into her Grandmother’s bed.

I stayed for a week to assist with the million tasks that seem to arise in dire situations but also to give her companionship and some peace of mind. We talked and she shared secrets only I would ever hear. She told me of the years that were wonderful, the times that she thought there would be no tomorrow, and of the nights where passion didn’t meet expectation. Throughout all of this, I heard what I thought she was saying.

50 years were not long enough, not for that kind of love.

I left with my heart full and my head full of new desires. Love was what I was searching for, or so I thought. I had known love, of all sorts. For one night, for many. Of things, as a thing. For others and occasionally for myself. But somehow that didn’t seem to be the secret she had shared with me. But I was closer, I could feel it deep inside. I was closer, I just needed to keep going.

I took some time to think on it, and one day when I was at a low point, one where my options seemed to be at the bottom of a medicine bottle or a cliff, I realized what I hadn’t previously. My grandparents had endless amounts of love, that much was true, but what others didn’t perceive was their connection. An invisible link that joined them, no matter how far their distance apart. Even in death, the one left behind felt that pull, the invisible thread.

I knew without a doubt, that was what I wanted, what I had longed for.

There’s a uniqueness in our interactions with someone we connect with. The subtleties are no longer obscured, the truth more real. We don’t hide our meanings or sweeten our harsh words. We know that these people understand us on a level that is more than skin deep. That they will be there in times of sorrow and celebrate with us our success. We are drawn to them because they too are drawn to us.

Even though I knew what it was, I didn’t know how to find it. Love didn’t seem to be any more real than smoke in the wind. I had chased love too, only to be bitterly disappointed. Haven’t we all? But one thing that I did know was that even if your quest leaves you empty-handed, the quest must still be completed.

It was shortly after this that Mister K and I came together again.

Between us, there was love, one that wasn’t based on lust, or material things. We had a bond that was formed from creating life and looking back, having that was a great place for us to re-start. The relationship failings of our past had little to do with us and more with our insecurities. Our boundaries were hard to set because we didn’t know what they were. Past interactions that had quoted words of love had in actuality been a ruse and we were not ready to re-live that nightmare. But we knew the respect that we held and the bond that was already formed could be the basis for a mutually beneficial arrangement and so, one more try was begun.

Mister K and I developed a new love, one we hadn’t known before, one we had only dreamed of. I believe it was created anew because we started with equally beneficial outcomes in mind. Parenting is easier with two, and so is the running and financing of a household. Because our union was a business arrangement, we found love somewhere we weren’t looking.

We evolved past this to a couple once again, and yet that connection wasn’t quite what I had been searching for, there was still something missing. When I think about these days now, I realise the missing portion was awareness. Awareness of each other but also of our desires. Because I hadn’t been honest with myself for years before this regarding BDSM, I wasn’t honest about it then either.

To have a connection with the likes of which my grandparents had takes informing your partner that you have needs.

After I finally discussed this with Mister K and we got over the initial hiccoughs of starting something new, I found that the connection that had been a source of longing for so long was finally starting to evolve. It arrived when I was least expecting it, like kneeling at Mister K’s feet or being told I was a good girl. The evidence of this was shown in the way our interactions changed, not only were we becoming more aware of the other, we were putting them first.

It grew and it strengthened and here we are today. Two people joined in more than love, with a bond that will last more than a lifetime. I see the proof of this when my son takes his girlfriend on dates and see that he too desires that connection. I feel it when my youngest tells me that he hopes he finds a wife just like me one day (although not too much like me, I hope).

It’s great to have love, but love can be a one-sided emotion.

A connection with another pulls both ways, and there’s no faking something like that.

I think that many people, young and old are searching for the other half who is holding their invisible thread. We try to fit into the context of love because we have no other way to define it. But once we have it, we know, and the power of that connection can move mountains and stand us up tall when we need its strength. It’s more powerful than any emotion, and I think that it’s achievable, if you want it bad enough.

Mister K and I no longer live a life defined by society’s standards. We don’t need to keep up with anyone or fill our time with meaningless chatter or events. We don’t need the newest and best of everything, because we already have everything that means the most to us.

To see who else is writing about Longing for 4 Thoughts or Fiction, click on the badge.

For more posts about MrsK, see Submissive Journal