What we have here is a case of nerves.

There's something in my head that's been rioting to be written about for days now, but in the first place, I'm not sure how to snag it down in words in such a way as to maintain its beauty, and in the second place, I'm not sure how my beloved treasure would take them, if I found a way.

So we step sideways a moment.

I'm newly becollared.
In sleek stainless steel, with its hidden hinge and hexpin clasp.
It's beautiful, and I feel treasured in it.
But also a little off-balance.
And I'm not sure why.

This lovely ring is only a token, a visual marker denoting the relationship we've had for just over half a year. The relationship has been a source of comfort and curiosity and joy for me since its inception. I'm happy in it and will stay in it until it ends, an eventuality I would just as soon be lost somewhere in transit. This signifies no change. It's a formalisation of an existing dynamic. This is a Good Thing, the being-together of him and me. I love him. I trust him. We can communicate, provided I open my mouth. There's nothing to be afraid of here.

What is it that's unsettling me?

The hexpin? I've got a key to that in my wallet. This isn't something I'm in and staying in until I can ask him sweetly to get me out. None of that. This is something I can put on myself, and something I can take off. Something I wear because I want to and can remove at will. And removal doesn't signify the breaking of the bond. Yes, it's a symbol of love, of faith. But it isn't the love and faith, itself. It's jewelry. And we both dig that, or at least, we've discussed it. His words: "If that (tapping the collar) looks like it's going to be a problem at work? Take it off. No problem."

Again, there's no actual change in our dynamic here: I was tesorina from the start--sub in rope, helpmeet in daily life (as much of it as we've had together). Unless I'm in rope, he's got a 50/50 chance at "orders" being recieved with docility; hell, even in rope, the odds only shift to about 80/20. Good thing for both of us that he doesn't issue "orders", he makes requests and suggestions.

Wait. Is that it?

Because it wasn't just the rope that triggered the mindframe shift, it was also the latigo-and-steel collar he made for me. That comforting weight heavy on my sternum; I can feel my spirit dropping to show belly and throat, just thinking of it.

Is that what I'm afraid of? Spending all day every day in that mindset?

...What is it, Luca? Are you afraid he'll suddenly turn into the last man you linked yourself to by a shiny metal ring?

~exhale~
Alright.
Look at the evidence, then.
How has he treated you since twisting the pin into place for the first time?
Like the little treasure he calls you. Like he always has. No change.
No taking for granted.
No imperious bullshit.
No handing you a jumble of things that need fixing and no tools to do it and whining when you ask for help. None of that.

Perceptions may lie, but the evidence? Never.
So look at the evidence, sweetheart.

The other mental chewtoys?
They can wait.
They won't go as nicely if you chew on them now as they will if you wait to get your head straight.
So keep 'em to hand and to heart, but wait.

Look at the evidence. And have faith.