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I was terrified that even after all our talks and discussions He would be playing a cruel joke that i would once again be the butt of. But He was different. His dominance rose up and warmed me, not the tidal wave of fear and pain i was expecting. instead it was always there, playful until it wasn't, warm and comforting breathing new life into my aching soul. there was an undercurrent of brutality but even then i was not afraid of His actions. 
There was an undercurrent of compassion but He could so easily break me, i worried that His silence was indifference. I wasn't good enough. He must have been enjoying himself but I didn't or couldn't tell. His few praises lifted me but seemed perhaps a remembrance of politeness. perhaps in thanks, like small tokens given to beggars on the streets. for that is how i felt. surely there would be whispered words of praise, knowing i was fresh and unknowing, a gentle teacher urging His student. perhaps he was allowing me to play without protocol for a while. 
I tried, I tried even whilst doubting myself, i did not voice it in worry of creating the Gremlin based atmosphere, He doesn't need that. Shouldn't have to deal with it. I should be better, always.

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