Another night of anxiety and freakouts, words that I cannot speak to Sir because I am afraid of disappointing him like I did last week when I had my major meltdown. The same old fears recurring and running rampant, and I tried to sleep for a while. A nap didn't alleviate things, but at last, the anxiety hardened into something bright and shiny and glasslike within my chest.

Determination, a focus.

Sometimes, I don't feel that he is happy. He speaks of his past with such joy, with a spark and a smile curving the edges of his lips, when he lived on the coasts and was like a rock-star, with thousands of fans adoring his photography and his face, nights at the clubs and getting work with anyone he wanted. I know that his last lover was a bombshell wildthing, because they are still best friends. I don't know the details of their relationship, but I know that he was happy with her for the years that they dated, and are still connected. They were wild together - they took images and went to clubs and danced and went to shows and parties, drank and partied and were beautiful lovers in a tragic and chaotic and beautiful world.

He moved here for her, but his life is so drastically different. He spends most of his time playing video games at home alone, networking online but without actually adventuring with friends, drinking vodka every night. He seems happy when he is with me, but his eyes don't have that spark like when he talks about his glory days.

And I wish I could help him reach them again. Help him regain his confidence. He talks a good game, but I always feel as if he is self-conscious about himself in several ways, for he rarely takes off his shirt when we are making love, and he has NEVER taken off his bandanna in the five months that we've been seeing each other. He doesn't put on pretty makeup and peacock like he did in his old days, when you could tell that he felt sexy and on top of the world. I wish he could see himself through my eyes, see his beauty and his strength, which take my breath away. He is so goddamn beautiful and sexy as hell, but he doesn't see it as well now. And I want him to see it. I want him to be so happy that he doesn't need to drink a little every night, want him adventuring and making plans, and feeling as wonderful as he is.

I want to inspire his confidence. I want him to DREAM again, I want to see that spark back. He talks about making physical changes, working out and eating better, but that never seems to work. So perhaps I need to start pushing him more, because I know that I want to feel better about myself physically. And having an excercise/healthy-eating buddy would be great motivation. I have been the exact opposite, preferring to convince him to snuggle with me in warm blankets, or getting stressed and anxious and wanting to go straight home to Safety.

I need to be a better girlfriend, I need to be a better pet. And for once, the anxiety is gone and I have determination. I want to inspire him. I want him to be happy, if that means helping him reconnect with his dreams and his work and help him regain his fans with all of the community that came with it. I want him to feel Beautiful and Adored again, even if it means he needs the adoration of more than myself, of thousands of strange girls. As long as I am the one that holds his heart, as long as his adoration doesn't turn to another.

I can become the woman he needs. Learn the makeup, the clothing, the style - put more effort into my appearance, go out dancing more, clubbing more, be the mate that he can be proud to show off in real life, and not just in modeling pictures. I need to start working out more, and hopefully draw him in too, and work harder in Life, saving up dollars after dollars and able to contribute to our lifestyle. Having the means to adventure. I will learn to stop being shy and scared and plain, and I will become the wild and adventurous vixen that he craves.

I have been selfish lately. More than a little bit.

But no more.