To Err on the Side of Love

It took me a very long time to finally write this post.  I was truly ashamed of something I said to Sam, and I wasn't sure I was brave enough to honestly tell you all what happened.  Then there was a powerful post that Mere wrote a while ago that made me think about the honesty thing.  Sam and I were past it, but I realized that there was a lesson I needed to remember and a reason to put it down in words.  
                                                          Ella is so far from perfect. 


Things had been smooth around Sam and Ella's house.  My medical issues were under control, and I was feeling quite spunky again.  Sam took such good care of me.  For so long the only thing that kept his spanking hand busy was for me to get depressed or silent.  Other than that, I was pretty much free to get as mouthy as I wanted.


Most of the sassiness was just silly, funny stuff that made us both laugh.  For a time, Sam was just so happy I was feeling better that he overlooked a lot of wise ass comments, some bossiness, and even minor snarkiness.  He would just hug me to him and say,
 

                           "I am so glad to have you well again.  
                You make me so happy.  I love you, pretty lady."

                                   "I love you, too, mister."

I had a lot of time on my hands.  First, I retired and then ended up confined to the house instead of on vacation.  Major cleaning was always part of my plan for when I stopped working.  I was a woman with a mission.  Although I am a very tidy person, it had been years since I had had the time to go through drawers, cabinets, closets, bins, shelves, and pantries.  I knew that there would be so much to clean, discard, donate, and reorganize.


Good god, I even went to the Container Store and put all the spanking implements and sex toys in little bins and baskets.  Paddles in this shoe bin, vibrators in that clear one, and canes and straps in the skinny, longish tray.  Saint Azotaina, patron saint of spanking, gave it all her blessing.

If they only knew how true this was.

Where things started to go south around here was when I moved my Clean & Purge Campaign to the garage.  You have heard me talk of all Sam's qualities, and you may also remember that he is not tidy.  I think the last time Sam cleaned his garage, everyone was speculating on who killed J.R. Ewing on the Dallas television series.

Sam can build a beautiful desk or a garden trellis.  He can repair a chair leg or the toilet or the garage door.  But my guy cannot clean up when he is done.  So, together we set out to slay the dragon, and it was a formidable foe.  Sam would have rather let the dragon lie, but here is where Ella got really bossy.

• "It's time, Sam.  
• We need to clean this garage.  
• Yes, we have to!  
• We'll do it together and just a little bit at a time.  
• It'll be OK, you'll see."

He growled and complained, but we began.  Surly was his middle name and bossy was mine.  Not a good combination.

• Well, you're not going to keep that, are you?
• Oh, for god's sake, Sam.  What the hell is this?
• If you would just stack those boxes like this, you would have so much more room.
• Don't put that back on the shelf; I need to clean it.
• Here, put this in the drawer with the wrenchy things.

The bossiness took on epic proportions, and for a while I rationalized it by telling myself this job needed to be done.  If Sam wasn't so sloppy, then this whole business would not have been necessary.  But I began to hate myself and the things I said.  What's more, I began to resent that Sam didn't set things straight.  The balance in our relationship was way off.
  

"I guess he does not care.  Perhaps ttwd does not apply if we are in the garage," I thought.  It had been one hell of a long time since there had been any serious spanking to rein in my bossiness.  In fact, I was in full flower bitch mode.

Nevertheless, that day, he kept our date to head over to our favorite Saturday afternoon pub when we had finished another section in the garage.  We usually enjoy this time together so much.  Not that day.  After all, I could say or do anything, and Sam would ignore it.  I do not remember what conversation preceded it, but the most hurtful, horrible words came out of my mouth.  As I said up front in this post, I think I have put off writing this because I was so ashamed for you to know I was so mean.

                                      This is what I said -

"Sam, I am coming to the conclusion that you are not cut out to be the boss, and you never will."  The look on his face was immediate.  He was stunned and hurt.  I immediately apologized and tried to retract my words, but there are some things you cannot "unsay."

We left soon after, and it was awkward between us.  I said I was sorry again and again, but Sam was quiet.  When we got home, I was scared.  I wasn't scared Sam would spank; I was scared he wouldn't.  I felt we were suddenly a million miles apart and that there was no way back.  Why did everything feel wrong between us?  What had I done?  How could I have hurt him like that?
  

I retreated, tearful and ashamed.  There were several minutes of intense self examination.  I agonized and suddenly I could look at the situation with a clear head.  All Sam had really been guilty of was being patient with me.  So glad that I was better and ready to jump into life again.  Loving me.  And I had been so horrible to him.  I attacked the very thing that has made our marriage so much better.  So much happier.  I had crushed it like a bug on the floor.


Then Sam opened the door and took my hand.  He was not angry but serious and determined.  "We will not end this like you think, Ella."  Before there was any spanking, I was sobbing heavily and apologizing profusely.  He paid no mind and unzipped my jeans.  Down I went across the bed.

I could hear him taking off his belt, but I could not stop crying.  Besides, there was nothing I could say.  Sam had enough to say for both of us.  He wasn't giving up on me or on ttwd.


In truth, I don't remember that much about the spanking except that it went on for a good while and it hurt.  It wasn't the belt that made me cry though; it was my guilt and my fear that Sam wouldn't be able to forgive me.

"I'm still here, Ella, and I'm not planning on that changing.  I'm here for you when you are sick, and you are here for me when I need you.  This is a bump, but we will get back to who we are to each other."


Sam used his belt, but through it all, I thankfully felt him take charge again, and I felt his love.  When it was over, I knew the rightful boss was back at the helm.  He held me tenderly until the tears finally stopped.  I was still trying to say how sorry I was, but he told me, "No more."  It was over now, and I was forgiven.  

                                TTWD wasn't going anywhere.