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.

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.

what to do?

i was looking forward to a nice leisurely bedtime, some touching, some love.  didn’t get it.

he says he needs to experience what it’s like being with someone else.  yes, okay, fine, we’ve been over this, that should happen if that’s what he wants and needs.  i have never had a problem with that, i’ve even tried to help him out with it once or twice.

but he gets in these moods where it’s like he hates himself for being so nice and so shy, and while i sympathize it just sort of makes me aggravated after a point.

dishboy fills a place in my life that the husband would not and could not.  i think he needs to figure out what it is that he needs that i don’t give him before he’ll be able to be bold.  he tried to turn this around on me, saying that i created the need for him to see other people when i realized that i did.  only he can create that need.  if it’s not there, it is neither my fault or my problem.

i definitely woke up in a sour mood today.  i like to think i’m normally a little nicer than this.

i have not seen this day before

i gave dishboy a tattoo today, an earth symbol on his elbow. i had never tattooed anyone before, but i enjoyed it. it’ll need a little more work once it processes for a bit, but i think it will ultimately turn out well. he got three cuts into redoing the star-shaped scar on my knee, but i felt flesh ripping and i looked down and i couldn’t take it anymore, had to stop and lie back in the sun with a cigarette. we talked about how to finish it, either with two more cuts or by branding. we’ll see. it won’t be beautiful, i don’t think, but it will be something to remember.

i don’t know how long it’s going to take for us to actually have sex. it’s difficult when we don’t have anywhere to go. hm.

i think i need sleep, and perhaps some sex.

dredging

he wrote to me again.

“scars, my love, scars.”

i had been sick the night before, and was exhausted and unprepared. the back-and-forth made little sense to me, and ended fairly quickly.

he rarely ever comes straight out and says the things he means. i think this is what got him in so much trouble with our situation. the enchantment wore off with him: i don’t care about pressing him for details or meanings now. it’s possible that he was trying to make amends, apologize or otherwise invite me back into his life. what i got from it was, “i know you’re finally feeling settled and comfortable with me completely out of your life, but here’s some overdramatic bullshit as a remembrance. please start thinking about me again so i can fuck with your head.”

my friend says it just means that he wants me in his life, no matter what. if that’s the case… well, i’m flattered, i guess. but my life seems to be a lot better without him in it.

i wish that things had ended differently.

wet

i’ve been telling myself lately that i’m going to make a list of the oddities that arouse me.  it all started on the bus one day, as i watched a pair of practiced hands solving a rubik’s cube.  such surety, backed by some invisible knowledge, an understanding that i do not share…  my mouth watered, my heart beat, my cunt smiled.

i get the same feeling when i find myself watching figure skating, basketball, dancing.  there’s a connection to the body free of thought and full of grace that leaves me awed and breathless.  watch a barista pull a shot, slip a perfect rosetta into the foam on your latte.  it’s one of the sexiest things in the world.

i’ve felt the trance of perfect, effortless coordination.  i’ve sung in it, danced in it, biked in it, fucked in it.  it’s a glittery, ephemeral place.  i’d like something that can take me back there.

i had a long period of fairly run of the mill arousal recently, brought on by all the usual and expected things.  i have to admit, i was feeling stuck in a very vanilla rut.  but then, miracle of miracles, i saw this.  now i want to cover myself in zip ties and fishnets.  i want to get hit, to taste tears and blood.  i want that rough wrestling sex i used to know so well.  i want to take advantage of someone who isn’t afraid of hurting me.

it’s possible that i’m being a bad spouse.  i watch my husband’s coworkers and friends with something like hunger, but not quite lust.  should i be more demanding that he fulfill those parts of me that he’s afraid of?  is it better that i take it easy on him, and casually wait until someone else fills those needs?  there’s something wrathful in me that wants to be challenged, wants to love and hate and fight and fuck in some miraculous storm.  i love my gentle husband.  there is no conflict with him, and i’m mostly sure that this is the way it should be with us.  but where to find that electric, destructive passion?  when will i have the time to hunt it down?  who is it that could fix my grammar as i correct their spelling, both resenting the other’s equal superiority?  it’s an affair i have to delegate to the dream realm for now.  maybe someday i’ll be sitting on a bus and feel it again, watching something that i don’t understand, knowing there’s just as much that i do.

the christian thing

i wasn’t raised christian, and i never really knew all that much about christianity. about a year and a half ago i took a job making jewelery for a friend’s family business, and i met a very special person. let’s call her maggie. maggie was 18, raised in the middle of nowhere by extremely conservative christian folks. we’d sit there at the work table, stringing beads and learning from each other. she taught me about the christian faith that she had found for herself, asked me about my life and experiences, basically made “christians” (a word which had previously seemed pretty synonymous with “backwards fools”) really relatable and human. unfortunately, her parents were the kind of people who didn’t want their kids to know anything about sex. maggie didn’t even know what was happening to her when she got her first period. (yeah, betcha didn’t think that happened anymore, huh?) not knowing this, i brought up the topic of premarital sex one day, and she freaked out. i dropped the subject quickly, and did a lot of thinking.

recently, the topic of my new life plans came up in a conversation with her. basically, i told her that i want to be a sex educator/relationship counselor, and that knowing her had made it apparent to me that accommodating personal (specifically religious) beliefs will be a very important part of that. she wanted to know more about it! oh, such a happy moment for me… i love seeing people open up and look sensitivities and fears right in the eye… anyways, i wrote back to her and thought i’d post that letter on here.

well… conversations with you changed my perspective on christianity. i really felt connected to your beliefs through your words, which you took so much time and care choosing, without writing me off as some pissant nonbeliever. i had never before felt like i understood or felt someone’s faith, especially without being judged for not sharing it or having it sold to me. i think that it is unfortunate that your family has such a hard time with being straightforward when talking about sex, and i guess i think that it’s pretty easy to get really scared of sex within the construct of conservative christianity. the catholic church has certainly been very opinionated on all sorts of things related to sex and sexuality, and preachers of all sorts seem to love sending the message that sex is dirty/shameful/whatever. the personal connection between sex and religion, however, is not something that i think a church should have any hold on. if the bible is the source of your faith, that’s what you should be following, not someone else’s opinion or rambling interpretation. i believe in following your faith and beliefs, with the emphasis on -your-. i also believe in letting others believe what they do freely, without trying to convert of judge them too much. so basically, it comes down to the fact that i want to help people. i think that sex and relationships are very important things, and they’re places in our lives where we can experience a great deal of hurt and damage, but also an incredible amount of revelation and growth. because they’re such delicate, precious, personal things, i think it’s really important to build sexuality and intimate relationships on a supportive framework, with as much respect and personal freedom (to include religious beliefs, personal standards and opinions, etc.) as possible.

i feel so good writing about this stuff. i love the idea that i could actually help somebody with some of the body issues, confusion, fear and embarrassment that so often come along with sex. i want so many more people to be as fulfilled in those areas as i’m becoming.

it’s just so damned cool.