But I threw a wrench in it.
Every so often I get needy for her to accept me exactly as am, kink and all. Things have been going so well that I thought surely she had new perspective on our relationship, that she loves me not despite my kinkiness, but because of it. The realization that she probably never will sent me into a tailspin and left me a wreck in the bathroom, feeling a universe away from where she laid sleeping one wall over.
Due reasons that are not relevant here, we currently have no mirrors up, and it's a good thing, because I'm not sure I could stand looking at myself at the moment. Self pity is so fucking unbecoming.
It was only later that I realize it cuts both ways, like most things do: I love her despite the fact that she's not the least bit kinky. Fuck it.