please note

the coffee table is a prime candidate for impromptu bondage.

if you come over to our house, don’t worry.  i cleaned it very thoroughly.

rollercoaster!

and not the fun kind.

i’m insecure, he’s exhausted and unresponsive.  i need reassurance that i’m what he wants, but he apparently doesn’t have it in him to actively want anything.  it’s the same shit, isn’t it?  the same thing that made me need to go crazy over a strange wild man, the same thing that can so easily make him seem…  well, dull.

i need to be shown any sort of feelings or desire, or i start to lose faith.

don’t want to fuck this up again.  not sure what else to say.

i’ll make this quick.

up until very recently, i wasn’t convinced that i would ever want, like, or be able to handle having things up my butt.

but somewhere close to two tabs of e later, it turns out that yes, yes, and yes, anal is pretty fucking cool.

that’s all i have to say about it for now.

other news:

dishboy is gone.  i have occasional pangs of missing him, but i’m mostly at peace with the beautiful memory of all the craziness we shared.

the husband and i are…  well, it feels like we’re on the way to things being better than they ever have been.  there’s a lot of talking and work to be done.  we might be going monogamous for a while to get our heads on straight and build a strong foundation.  i have come to the conclusion that i love him so much it’s a little intimidating.

loss.

i’m mourning for him.  in my head, he’s already gone and it’s cold here when i’m alone.

it makes seeing him bittersweet and vaguely desperate, like i’m simultaneously trying to build and drown the fire of this small strange love.

and what if one day he walks out of the woods and writes to me?  would it be better to let this die, and not remind ourselves of how it can’t be this way again?  nothing about anything will ever stay the same, and we are no exception.  i would much prefer these magic few weeks and a sad parting to the kind of lengthy falling out that a more solid relationship would inevitably become.

it’s hard to let go, though.  harder when part of me is trying before he’s even gone.

sex.

i had it.

hot, rough and breathless, high on the newness of it, only barely staying sane enough to not fuck everything up.  a string of bruised parentheses winds up my leg, my shoulders are draped in scratches now scabbing.

my husband flinches every time someone asks about the bruise and broken skin on my arm, or mentions golf.  on the plus side, we’ve been fucking again as well, and it has been hot.  our son is gone for almost three weeks, so we’re working on making it a good time.

dishboy leaves in less than a week.  i’m feeling peaceful about it, and i’m looking forward to getting not nearly enough sleep this week.  let’s go out with a bang.

things

1)  as odd as it may sound, i think the situation with dishboy is as close to “dating” as i’ve ever been.

2)  i think it will be impossible for me not to fall head over heels in love with him at some point.

after i left the restaurant yesterday, around when he was finishing his shift, he texted from a mutual friend’s phone:  “it’s [redacted], i want you.  see you monday.”

shocking, just how much that made my heart race.  so simple, but so…  well, honest.  how can i have missed out on straightforwardness before now?  maybe because i was less so than i’ve become in the past year or so.

i wonder what i’ll do with myself when he leaves…

yikes

a gaggle of in-laws descended upon us today, not very long after i had woken up.  we all went down to my place of employment for lunch, and i was unfortunately very out of it.  the moment i walked in, i saw my dishboy, which sort of threw me off.  had to sneak out for a cigarette, feeling weird about all of this family that i don’t really know very well.  i guess it’s just awkward since the marriage is feeling a little uncertain and they don’t know that.

tomorrow is a new day.

and i have a late-late-night date with dishboy on monday after he finishes his closing shift!

updates

i made the pie, and it worked its magic. there’s something in the eyes and in the voice after that first bite that fills me with wonder. i’ve got something.

dishboy… well, things are interesting. this seems to be much more than a fling. we’re happy with even an hour or so together, talking and kissing and feeling comfortable and close. in a few weeks he’s going to walk off into the woods and resurface somewhere else, but i’m pretty certain that we’ll stay in touch.

he is a new type of person (relationship-wise) to me. to state it very simply, he likes me, and he’s okay with that. he shows it. i’ve been with jerks who only pay attention when they want something, and i’ve been with timid people who are too nervous to show how interested in me they really are. i like the feeling of being involved with someone who isn’t afraid or dismissive of me. part of me wishes i’d found this earlier, but i know in the back of my head that it would have ruined itself. i would have asked too much of it, and he’s not the kind of man that you can do that with. i would hate myself if i tied him down. i love his freedom, the wildness he has renewed in me.

i spent a long time on that last sentence because i am unsure about saying “love.” probably because i’m afraid that saying it to him would scare him off. i don’t feel that it needs to be said, although in some ways i can honestly say that i love him. i can be exactly my self around him and it feels good – what more does love really have to be?

——-

things with my husband are evening out slowly.  he seems to be slower to get over the shittiness than i am at the moment.  he’s staying home tonight, so i think we’ll do some talking.

myriad in-laws begin descending upon us tomorrow.  i need to ask him if he would prefer that we put our wedding bands back on and play like everything’s peachy, or if we should just answer any questions if they come up.  it’s his family, so i think it’s really up to him.

wonder

“i really hope that you’re imaginary.  ’cause then you can be anywhere, anytime.”

fuck.

we aren’t being nice to each other.