Is supposed to be a good thing. The increased anticipation heightens your awareness. With your senses are peaking, you become just that much more sensitive to the vibes around you. You look forward instead of backward, creating an aura of positivism .... Right?
Or you feel like you're walking around waiting for someone to trigger a freaking heart attack. Hmmm not so positive.
I'm thinking a little less delay and a little more gratification may be in order.
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 21, 2010
it's been awhile ...
Long hours in soft conversation punctuated by belly laughs and shared phrases. Straight up intimate questions that get gut honest answers with no bullshit in the way. Exploring diverging experience and philosophies to determine mutual boundaries. Learning the differences in perspective by seeking to bridge a cultural divide without becoming defensive, just because of difference. Celebrating diversity in a whole new way.
Allowing those ideas and opinions long held in silence to be aired with someone you are just getting to know, when you would not previously explore them even with your best friends. Relishing the newness, the creation of a friendship without ulterior motives because you both have the same approximate game plan where neither party is looking for some pie in the sky silver lined dream world, but a rooted earthy understanding between adults who like each other but are not even close to giving up their independence.
The little joy that jolts you when he calls, just because he calls and his voice makes you smile because all he really wants at that moment is to talk to you. Recognizing that the connection seems like its been there forever, there is a comfortableness in play that came out of nowhere - old friends newly met and having him bring that very subject up in our last conversation.
Telling me that he considers me his very good friend on a level above and beyond the physical sense, that I am a beautiful intelligent woman who deeply interests him and allowing myself to believe him. It's hard for broken people to take that leap - to open up and trust that you won't get burned again. Stepping out of a purposefully insulated years worn cocoon where intimate involvement is concerned is a damn scary thing. For him and I. Finding the other person willing to discuss and explore that fear at length, in terms of the friendship you are currently building - that's a priceless gift.
To find that respectful inclusion coupled with a similarity in passion - don't think I've ever been here before.
But man, our worlds are different.
Allowing those ideas and opinions long held in silence to be aired with someone you are just getting to know, when you would not previously explore them even with your best friends. Relishing the newness, the creation of a friendship without ulterior motives because you both have the same approximate game plan where neither party is looking for some pie in the sky silver lined dream world, but a rooted earthy understanding between adults who like each other but are not even close to giving up their independence.
The little joy that jolts you when he calls, just because he calls and his voice makes you smile because all he really wants at that moment is to talk to you. Recognizing that the connection seems like its been there forever, there is a comfortableness in play that came out of nowhere - old friends newly met and having him bring that very subject up in our last conversation.
Telling me that he considers me his very good friend on a level above and beyond the physical sense, that I am a beautiful intelligent woman who deeply interests him and allowing myself to believe him. It's hard for broken people to take that leap - to open up and trust that you won't get burned again. Stepping out of a purposefully insulated years worn cocoon where intimate involvement is concerned is a damn scary thing. For him and I. Finding the other person willing to discuss and explore that fear at length, in terms of the friendship you are currently building - that's a priceless gift.
To find that respectful inclusion coupled with a similarity in passion - don't think I've ever been here before.
But man, our worlds are different.
Mar 10, 2010
schedule
Tues - concert
Wed - tanning & laundry (which I again did not do)
Thurs - visit with Luanne, actually do the laundry
Fri - Tanning, Remi's bday at BPs, karaoke and something else I've forgotten
Sat - sugar and Minda's bday at McNally's
Sun - house stuff, sewing
Mon - tanning
Tues - Ryan's bday @ OHans
Wed - ST PADDYs day
Thurs - vacay - recovering
Wed - tanning & laundry (which I again did not do)
Thurs - visit with Luanne, actually do the laundry
Fri - Tanning, Remi's bday at BPs, karaoke and something else I've forgotten
Sat - sugar and Minda's bday at McNally's
Sun - house stuff, sewing
Mon - tanning
Tues - Ryan's bday @ OHans
Wed - ST PADDYs day
Thurs - vacay - recovering
Mar 7, 2010
That traitor Father Nature.
A woman would not curse EVERY other woman with such an intrusive, disgusting never fucking ending cycle, so I will now be calling it Father Nature.
I had plans and that mofo screwed them royally.
I track it, I do what I am supposed to and is it on TIME? Of course not. I figure Father Nature and Murphy must be home boys, just laughing as women struggle to schedule their lives around cramps, trips to the drugstore, mood swings that would kill any pitcher in the major leagues, juggled in with trying to maintain some kind of intimate friendship when you're both working.
Totally scrambled my happy sunday plans, and forced me top find a less obvious reason for canceling since I choose not to enlighten the paramour concerning things female. We aren't even close to discussing that.
So there were several very long phone calls this week end - but it just is not the same thing as being able to touch/smell/taste him. damn.
I had plans and that mofo screwed them royally.
I track it, I do what I am supposed to and is it on TIME? Of course not. I figure Father Nature and Murphy must be home boys, just laughing as women struggle to schedule their lives around cramps, trips to the drugstore, mood swings that would kill any pitcher in the major leagues, juggled in with trying to maintain some kind of intimate friendship when you're both working.
Totally scrambled my happy sunday plans, and forced me top find a less obvious reason for canceling since I choose not to enlighten the paramour concerning things female. We aren't even close to discussing that.
So there were several very long phone calls this week end - but it just is not the same thing as being able to touch/smell/taste him. damn.
Mar 6, 2010
the devil inside
I now find myself attempting to come to grips with an old familiar not seen for many moons. With the release of the demon and the grand opening of passion into my life, comes an entire host of physiological, emotional and mental gymnastics that have not been plaguing me for well over 6 years.
The choice to remain celibate began as an option to figure my own shit out. Having finally realized the optimum relationship - that being one that ends with my dignity, relative emotional capacity, and wallet still in hand, as well as several friends to lean on should the need arise, (my habit was to render all other relationships null & void in the pursuit and maintenance of my single intimate relationship) I decided I needed to figure out who the fuck I was at that point, and what was it that I actually wanted to do with the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I may have taken it a tad too far.
The immense personal growth and other successes both creative and financial that I have enjoyed in the ensuing years notwithstanding, I am fair sure now that the last 2 maybe three years have been pure repression due to lack of risk-taking value and fear of failure, peppered with the tasteless truth that I sure as hell didn't want to sleep with what I perceived in the mirror.
Whoa now. Calm yourselves. Let's be honest - we are daily bombarded with the north american image/supposed standard of beauty, so there can be no denying that it will warp some of us - especially when the tide of self confidence is at its lowest and one has detached herself from any intimate relationship for a LONG damn time.
Add to that the true nature of the woman in question, a lusty wench who has embraced the touch and taste and smell of sex since her teens, and had never previously been celibate for mare than - oh I don't know - 6 months tops after a particularly heartbreaking badly ended marriage, and you get an anarchic chaotic pheremonal mess of released estrogenic proportions not often seen in this drear and often passion less society.
So here I am. The urge to merge creating a melodic line with my heartbeat and echoing down my spine with every freaking step I take. It was bad enough (button) when it was just the shiny things that distracted me (piece of tinfoil), but now the olfactory buffet is foremost and (shiny things) have become (man scent). I find myself perusing body lines under shirts/jackets/pants with lowered eyelids and a lopsided grin on my face. Watching the eyes - and some of the reaction I get when I look directly into their faces is hilarious. I have to wonder what expression I'm wearing. Voices - strong yet soft, and an accent is even better. And the hands, man, a great pair of hands will melt me.
Overwhelmed with sensations repressed too long for someone of my base nature. And I must admit, struggling to get a "mature" handle on them, while truly enjoying the "kid in a candy shop" adventure of the whole process. I 'm dreaming all the time now - and the return of the sex dreams like I haven't since my 20s is giving me insomnia. My nipples are so sensitive that if I brush them with my OWN damn arm - in a winter coat, it becomes an issue. My whole fucking parsing section of my brain is a double entendre.
And there is no way, I mean NO WAY, I would even attempt to interrupt the process at this point. That would wrack me.
So on I go an infinitely passionate slightly kooky sherman tank on double estrogen, just hoping I don't make so many mistakes this time.
The choice to remain celibate began as an option to figure my own shit out. Having finally realized the optimum relationship - that being one that ends with my dignity, relative emotional capacity, and wallet still in hand, as well as several friends to lean on should the need arise, (my habit was to render all other relationships null & void in the pursuit and maintenance of my single intimate relationship) I decided I needed to figure out who the fuck I was at that point, and what was it that I actually wanted to do with the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I may have taken it a tad too far.
The immense personal growth and other successes both creative and financial that I have enjoyed in the ensuing years notwithstanding, I am fair sure now that the last 2 maybe three years have been pure repression due to lack of risk-taking value and fear of failure, peppered with the tasteless truth that I sure as hell didn't want to sleep with what I perceived in the mirror.
Whoa now. Calm yourselves. Let's be honest - we are daily bombarded with the north american image/supposed standard of beauty, so there can be no denying that it will warp some of us - especially when the tide of self confidence is at its lowest and one has detached herself from any intimate relationship for a LONG damn time.
Add to that the true nature of the woman in question, a lusty wench who has embraced the touch and taste and smell of sex since her teens, and had never previously been celibate for mare than - oh I don't know - 6 months tops after a particularly heartbreaking badly ended marriage, and you get an anarchic chaotic pheremonal mess of released estrogenic proportions not often seen in this drear and often passion less society.
So here I am. The urge to merge creating a melodic line with my heartbeat and echoing down my spine with every freaking step I take. It was bad enough (button) when it was just the shiny things that distracted me (piece of tinfoil), but now the olfactory buffet is foremost and (shiny things) have become (man scent). I find myself perusing body lines under shirts/jackets/pants with lowered eyelids and a lopsided grin on my face. Watching the eyes - and some of the reaction I get when I look directly into their faces is hilarious. I have to wonder what expression I'm wearing. Voices - strong yet soft, and an accent is even better. And the hands, man, a great pair of hands will melt me.
Overwhelmed with sensations repressed too long for someone of my base nature. And I must admit, struggling to get a "mature" handle on them, while truly enjoying the "kid in a candy shop" adventure of the whole process. I 'm dreaming all the time now - and the return of the sex dreams like I haven't since my 20s is giving me insomnia. My nipples are so sensitive that if I brush them with my OWN damn arm - in a winter coat, it becomes an issue. My whole fucking parsing section of my brain is a double entendre.
And there is no way, I mean NO WAY, I would even attempt to interrupt the process at this point. That would wrack me.
So on I go an infinitely passionate slightly kooky sherman tank on double estrogen, just hoping I don't make so many mistakes this time.
Mar 2, 2010
quiet man
He tells me he's a quiet man. People that know him tell me he's a quiet man. For a quiet man he sure does talk a lot. One in particular was totally amazed that we spend two sometimes three hours at a time on the phone just verbally wandering through our experience just asking questions and making each other laugh. Apparently he also doesn`t spend much time on the phone yet we talk at least every second day. And we`re both afraid of `relationships` and want to maintain our independence, our safe space that it has taken us so much to acquire. So there are quite a few similarities.
We were making fun of some damn fools getting married when he asked me today if I would ever get married again. I had to really think about that. It`s certainly not something on my immediate horizon. Having been divorced twice it`s taken me 7 years to sort out who I am all on my own, and only the last have I not been responsible for anyone except me since I was 16. I believe in marriage - sharing lives for two people who love each other tenderly and deeply, but I am not going there any time soon. I told him maybe if I fell in love with someone, spent enough time with them and trusted them I would consider doing it again. He said he didn`t fall in love, he stands in love - to which I laughed and mentioned that was a Snoop Dog phrase. He was surprised. But in a way I agree with him. Either way - love is not at issue in the here and now. Unlawful carnal knowledge, mutual interests, and the curiosity of the new is what it`s about right now.
He makes me feel womanly and desirable and soft - I even bought a PINK shirt.
OMG
I sound ... knock wood ... happy.
And I deserve it.
We were making fun of some damn fools getting married when he asked me today if I would ever get married again. I had to really think about that. It`s certainly not something on my immediate horizon. Having been divorced twice it`s taken me 7 years to sort out who I am all on my own, and only the last have I not been responsible for anyone except me since I was 16. I believe in marriage - sharing lives for two people who love each other tenderly and deeply, but I am not going there any time soon. I told him maybe if I fell in love with someone, spent enough time with them and trusted them I would consider doing it again. He said he didn`t fall in love, he stands in love - to which I laughed and mentioned that was a Snoop Dog phrase. He was surprised. But in a way I agree with him. Either way - love is not at issue in the here and now. Unlawful carnal knowledge, mutual interests, and the curiosity of the new is what it`s about right now.
He makes me feel womanly and desirable and soft - I even bought a PINK shirt.
OMG
I sound ... knock wood ... happy.
And I deserve it.
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