Punishment

What happens when He lets me down?
What punishment is there for Him?
I was left to wait for Him, alone in the night. Afraid and haunting my own house, a confused spirit.

To be forgotten, to be cast aside even temporarily is a harmful emptiness that leaves my hot anger frozen. Turns me numb and hollow.

I imagine this role reversed, these paddles and whips in my hands. I imagine Him immobile, tied carefully and securely down. His physical resistance so conveniently out of the way of my hands.

This is a futile and silly imagining.

If I even had the nerve to raise my hands against Him I would break before He would. Every sting of leather on His skin would harm me more than it could ever harm Him. Every steady intake of His breath painful for me and louder than the begging I would want, begging that He would never let pass His lips. His internal resistance so much stronger than any bonds I could imagine or create. I would not reach Him.

So what recourse is there? What protest?
What options do I have? What power?

There is no holding myself back from him. I will go where He tells me to go, I will wait as long as He tells me to wait.
And when He does come I will unfold like a love letter, revealing my secrets. I will feel comforted even if no comfort is offered.
I will ask for nothing.