TAKEN

It doesn’t matter if you’re five-foot-six or six-foot-five. It doesn’t matter if you’re skinny or fat. It doesn’t matter if you’ve got $1 or $1 million – there is a circle on the ground around where you stand. This is your land and your kingdom. Own it.

She should know that the moment she steps into your circle, she’s safe. She’s yours. When you touch her she can feel it, so touch her often. Direct her. Guide her. Lead her.

Put your protective hand on her back and let her feel the safety of belonging to you. When going through a doorway or into a building, or crossing the street, she’s constantly under your protection and guidance.

Grab her wrist and lead her where you want her to go. Physically move her body. Clear the path in front of her.

Tenderly put your hand on her cheek and look into her eyes. Tell her that she’s yours.

It doesn’t matter who’s around. Stop, look at her, and place your hand on the side of her neck. Give her a moment of total peace and solitude of knowing that she’s yours, no matter where you are and no matter what’s going on.

When you’re sitting next to each other, put your hand on her thigh. Grab her wrist and squeeze it tenderly. Hold the palm of her hand in yours and let her feel the warmth of your guardianship.

Inspect her body. Move close to her and brush her hair out of her face or loop it behind her ear. Look at her. Check her out. Stroke her cheek softly with your thumb.

Grab her hand and kiss it. Reassure her. Kiss her on her forehead. Kiss her on her cheek. Show her that you’re always watching.

Firmly grab a fist-full of her hair and look into her eyes, then look down at her lips. Rub her lip with your finger and gaze at her.

You don’t have to be in the bedroom to make love to her entire body. Show her that she belongs to you and that being at your side is her rightful place.

Not the loud kind. The quiet, constant kind. When I’m at work and I pick up my phone to see ten messages spread across the day. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just little pieces of her reaching for me in between her own life. She thinks she’s being too much. I think she’s thinking of me, and that matters.

I love when she can’t keep her hands to herself. When she leans into me without asking, slips her fingers into mine, waits for my arm around her waist like it’s where she belongs. It’s not neediness to me, it’s trust. It’s her saying, without words, that I’m her safe place.

Even when she’s out with friends, laughing, living, enjoying herself, she still sends a quiet I miss you. Not because she’s lonely, but because connection doesn’t switch off when I’m not there.

And here’s the truth, said plainly, like a man who knows his role. I don’t encourage clinginess because I want dependency. I allow it because it shows effort. Presence. Choice. In a world that’s fast, distracted, and starving for attention, choosing one person again and again is discipline.

truth ~