As I was coming up for this post title it reminded me of a children's book by the same name that I read by Shel Silverstein, the king of meaningful metaphoric children's stories that end up making you feel like shit once you understand the deeper meaning.
If you aren't familiar with the story, the main character is a pacman looking incomplete circle that wanders around miserably while feeling incomplete, searching for that piece that will complete him. He keeps searching, trying piece after piece, only to have them all not fit until... he finally locates the piece that completes him perfectly. With his new round shape he begins trucking around, going faster and faster in the ecstacy of finding his perfect match. Eventually he goes so fast that he loses control, only to crash, lose his perfect fit, and return to a state of miserable wandering.
While this could easily be a comparison for many things in life, it perfectly describes the role that submission holds in my life... and sometimes that makes me a little sad.