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I fumbled with the leather between my fingers for some time. It was smooth on one side and rough on the other. You let me hold the collar to contemplate putting it on. It shouldn’t have been that hard to decide.

I got caught up in the intensity of it all. I wanted to be the kind of girl that wore a collar like that. I liked the idea of what it would mean to feel belonging, ownership and possibly love.

Not unlike my younger years, I was looking in the wrong places. I’d let my head separate from the whimsical heart. Logic went on holiday, giving me enough time to relearn what I’d already known, what I’d already been taught.

I was a Tourist in your world and you became an enemy in mine. You wanted control of things I couldn’t give you. I didn’t know myself well enough to give anything to anybody, I know that now.

I thought I was ready. Ready for the strap of leather to dress my neck and everything that goes with that. I tripped over myself again and again as I made my way through your gauntlet until I couldn’t anymore.

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