Rough ride

It's been a while since I've posted. I've been through a pretty rough ride, what with depression rearing its ugly head again. Sometime I feel such a desperate sense of hopelessness and being "blocked in" by life. I should be so thrilled being a mother, but I am not finding the joy I had hoped. I don't have a natural sense of playfulness and I simply want to be alone sometimes. I'm not a bad person for feeling this way; I suspect this is part of the depression disease that I inherited.

On a positive note, I am not acting helpless about the depression, which would be my normal modus operandi. I am trying to be as proactive as I can, with my husband's urging. I am signed up for another intensive weekend-long therapy retreat in May. Thank goodness. I've been a long time out of therapy, but I am still involved, if you know what I mean. Also, I finally found a church I can live with. I attended last Sunday and it felt better. I felt relieved and refreshed for the first time in a long time. The church's motto is "church for people who don't do church" lol, the perfect hook for reeling me in. It reminds me a lot of my last church, but it is quite different. I'm not sure I'll ever find another pastor as radical as my last one, and it was his uniqueness that drew me in. But I've grown up since then, and I can handle a pastor who is a little more conservative now.

So, between an upcoming therapy retreat and a new church, I'm doing much better. I'm also doing well in my career, have been asked for another interview, am busy as a bee and absolutely love it.

My lover seems to be doing well, too. I saw a photo of him the other day and he actually looks healthier and heartier being deployed than he did at home. I have thought a lot about his lifestyle and have come to the conclusion that it probably isn't the best for him, but he will take himself out of it when he's ready. Living alone in a townhouse, dark brown curtains over the windows, hanging out on the internet much of the time...I know he's got a porn addiction problem, as he has admitted as much to me. Overseas, he's always with people and can't hole up in his den like he does at home. He looks happier and livelier. I don't know if our association is such a good thing for him...I haven't looked at it this way before. I know it's been what he's wanted, but is it healthy for HIM? I have to admit, it probably isn't. And as much as I dread him letting go and moving on, I'm watching and waiting to see what would be best for him. I really do care, deeply.

Healing dream

My lover has arrived safely and is fine. I am hugging his correspondence- like a precious secret- to myself, a sunny place to bask in when it is dark. I love how he began: "Hey, gorgeous"...how often does any one say THAT to me? He thinks about me, he's planning for our reunion in a few months..."just you and me, together all night..."  He makes me crave him, just from words alone. Just thinking about him. Such a beacon of light. Still so humble, still doesn't discuss much, but lets our experiences lie between us, unspoken but magnificently potent.

I had a dream last night that healed me in yet another way. Let me backtrack first. The last time I saw him, we accomplished a "forbidden" act. One that another man I had seen before constantly fantasized about, and what I referred to as the "anal rape." My lover was determined to "cure" me of that trauma, for some reason. I don't understand the appeal, honestly. To any man. I just don't understand the appeal. Anyway, he went slowly with me, cautiously, lovingly, consciously. I went along with it because I knew he wanted to try to heal my fear, although I didn't think I could be "cured"; I was so offended by the whole past episode and have a sharp memory of the pain. But last time, he accomplished the impossible. I felt no pain, and after that, had no fear, and experienced pure pleasure. I feel as if I've been set free, the negative memory subsumed by the pleasurable one.

So, last night I dreamt that I had been set free. That I was able to let go of a man I once lusted over, for years. In the dream, this man and I were intimate, and we knew we were only interested in each other for sex. We finally admitted it out loud. I touched him and kissed his cheek and gave him over to another woman, who took him away, out of sight. I knew that they were copulating and I was quite sad, but also relieved and and felt free as a bird. I didn't need him any longer, I was no longer tethered to him like an iron anchor. I set him free, and thus, I set myself free. And while doing this, giving me the strength and courage in the background, as a mirage, as memory, was my lover. The man in the dream (who is a real person) has the same first name as my lover. I can say the name again with a smile on my face, with no sadness or melancholy.

As my therapist and certain friends have agreed, my healing and recovery seems to occur mostly on the sexual level. For whatever reason. I am sure I am not the only person who experiences recovery this way, but for now I feel I am, as I know of no one else.

Letters from the battlefield

I was right.

And even more, I woke up at midnight and as usual whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, check my email, out of habit. There was a message from him. From the middle of nowhere, half way around the world, telling me that he wanted me, but not in the usual way--much more sensual and possessive than normal. It sounded to me almost like a letter from a soldier at war to his lover, in any war in history. A lonely, anxious soldier reaching out for female comfort back home. It's funny, but I always dreamed of this; I always wanted to be some war-fighting soldier's woman back home who he writes to in order to keep his spirits up. And since he is a bachelor, but seems to feel that same need, it is me. It's yet another fantasy he's made real without even knowing it.

I'm now convinced that he expresses most of his emotions through the need for sex. He has different sexual moods--sometimes for "plain vanilla" sex, sometimes romantic lovemaking behavior, or dom behavior, or experimental behavior, or "klingon" behavior (as I affectionately call it), or kinky behavior...so many different sides to him. I feel he is communicating his feelings to me through sex. And almost each time I've seen him, I say that I have no words, but my body will express everything. That's what makes this so wonderful. Words are shallow compared to the communication of the body.

Another lovers story

I must write about this to get it out of my head. I thought my lover had already deployed, but all week I've been checking in and he's still been here. Yesterday afternoon, I ended up with a free hour completely alone, such a rarity these days, so I checked in. He was there and we chatted a bit; eventually things got very heated as usual, but he then he typed "call me." What's the big deal? Well, we had set this as another limit- no phone calls. He was always very careful about not asking for too much, really, not asking for much at all, given my situation, but lately, he's been showing more of his desirous self, wanting more, not playing it quite so nonchalantly. He's never asked me to call him before, and he's never called. I just smiled to myself and picked up the phone. He waited four rings to answer, always the tease. And when I heard his voice, only maybe the fifth time in my life, I melted.

His voice is deep and commanding, controlled, and to me, very sensual. He has such power over me, sexually, and he knows it. He told me what to do and I did; I imagined him there with me and listened to his voice. He called me "lover," which I absolutely adore. It was almost as good as being with him in person, almost. At times, I would become overwhelmed, and he knew just what to do, just like when we're together. "Close your eyes, breathe with me...in....out..." We breathed together over the phone until I calmed down and the tears stopped. We both satisfied our cravings, with encouragement from the other. Afterward, I lay on my bed, he lay in his, and we just smiled into the phone in silence. Peaceful. I felt his ghostly touch...wrapping his arms around me, lacing his fingers through mine, and falling asleep together until desire woke us up again. This ritual was palpable over the phone. And it was me this time who said "I'm afraid I have to go" when my hour was up. He sounded almost regretful but understanding. "Go do what you have to do. We'll talk later." And I've been checking since, and he is not there. He said something about having to stay up all night last night...I think he's left. And if I'm correct, this is why he broached the final boundary. This was his way of saying goodbye, without saying the word.

I could be wrong. We shall see. All I know is that he's stopped asking if I have permission to see him. He never mentions my husband any more. And tells me such things, such as in this conversation:

me: ...and he still respects her in the morning?
him: of course, he respects her the entire time. she is courageous, fearless, uninhibited, willing to endure a lot in exchange for her pleasure.
me: she feels the same way...and safe to be her ***** self, no judgment.
him: never. she can explore in safety, be nurtured, be nourished by her lover...

Deploying soon

It's been insane: alone with my one-year-old who refuses to sleep at night... while trying to hold down my full-time job. That may not sound like much, but it's close to undoing me. I couldn't ever be a single mom, I simply don't see how it is possible, yet people do it every day. I absolutely adore my little imp, and she EXHAUSTS me to the limit!

My lover is deploying VERY soon, in a matter of days. To the war. Right in the middle of it. He is anxious and down, and has a "bad vibe" about it. I try to be around when my daughter is asleep (rarely!) and just take his mind off his worries. I feel quite helpless, scared myself; and there is truly nothing I can do. He's got to face his fear alone, unfortunately. As we all do in the end, I suppose.

I told him really, think about getting out when you come home. He is too good for this system. He's intelligent and cynical and independent and has almost completed his degree now, so he will have more options. He sounds so unhappy, and I know he can aim so much higher. I told him that I find intelligence incredibly sexy, so don't worry about not wearing the uniform for my sake : ) His response was that he could never see me with a "moron" no matter how good looking. So funny. I think part of the attraction for him is that I'm not the typical vapid female one meets on a sex site. I know how to read him and use it for both of our advantage : )

As for me and "morons," well, I've been there, done that, and get bored easily. I do need an intellectual equal or higher. My husband is much more intelligent than me--I wouldn't stay married were I bored for that long! My mystery Marine was quite smart--too smart, he never messed up, always remained in control, leaving me looking foolish at times.

  

We are making plans for when he comes back--I think this is probably helping him more than anything. I didn't know he had this thought: he wants to take me to a swingers club : ) He knows a place in the area (of course he does lol)- a classy, membership-only place, where membership is only open to couples and single females. I don't understand the limitation, although something tells me it's a positive sign for a place like this. It would be a real step out of my comfort zone. Although I've had dreams of things like this with him, I'd never considered actually doing it. But we're beyond fantasy now--everything is open to us to explore. And he has other intriguing ideas, as well. Never bored with him.

I feel much calmer though, knowing he is not getting bored with me and shows no sign of wanting to end. I have been able to let go of the obsession a bit-not needing to hear from him daily. He's so consistent and has been for such a long time. It's very comforting somehow, that he is so steady and dependable. Steady as a rock. Wonderfully calm in a crisis. He's going to make some lucky woman an amazing husband someday, when he gets through his determinedly stubborn bachelor stage (I'm fine with him remaining in it for a long time yet to come though!).

Musing on getting older

I'm finally attempting to get myself together (trying). Exercised for the first time since I got pregnant (not that carrying around a 20 lb. baby isn't exercise! arm and leg muscles are in great shape...), and I mean a 30-minute walk in this gorgeous weather. So beautiful today, low 70s, dry, breezy. Listened to music and thought all the while.

So, this song practically invited me to blog today :

It takes a lot of self-esteem to not allow someone to mess with you. It takes self-honesty and staying out of denial. That's a lot to ask of a person; perhaps that's why it's so easy for the most sensitive of us to get messed with. In my experience, you can't trust anyone even who says they won't, because their intellect is not in control of their emotions and actions. Even if they claim it is.

I use my life examples because this is what I know--I'm sure you can think of something completely different that works.

On my walk today, I remembered what my lover said to me a few months ago. He said in warning, "The deeper we go, the more it's going to hurt when it's over." We had a bad time, a few years ago when he started dating someone, and told me goodbye. Prematurely. This was soon after our first encounter. I knew it would happen at some point, but hell, we were just starting. And to top it off, this was right after two rejections in a row. I wasn't in any place to handle it at all well. I allowed him to mess with me. I was a wreck for quite a while and just taught myself to adjust.

So, the lesson in that? I'm not sure I've learned anything much, except that I'm responsible for my own suffering. You see, if you decide that no one's ever going to mess with you again, you fall into an chasm. You build a wall and hide behind it. At least, that's been my experience. If you open yourself, someone's going to mess with you. I guess I can venture to say that I walked into this with my eyes wide open, this time, if that's a lesson. I am intellectually aware of the future. It's still going to sting--like when you have a cavity drilled with no anesthesia; yes, it will. And I could have mitigated that pain by not allowing our physical intimacy to enter the realm it has. But the one thing I can say is that I am consciously choosing this. I don't know what else to say, though.

I am getting older every day. My daughter is growing up. My husband is, too. Sex is a temporary state of affairs, and I peer at myself in the mirror every day, looking for the wrinkles on my face, the grey in my hair; surveying the extra weight I have put on since I became pregnant. I think about my mother and how I was always so hard on her for letting herself "fall apart"--for as many years as I can remember. But here I am. Falling apart. There's so much to do, so much care taking and pressure to keep my job(s), and not a second to spare (and yes, I write, but that's in my quick break times during the work week). I'm still vain, but I don't have the appearance to match it now. (no, I'm not fat, but carry an extra 15 pounds that I never used to, and it hurts me every time I look at myself.) I don't know why this doesn't bother the men in my life like it bothers me, but they honestly don't seem to care; it's me who insists on keeping the lights out.

Getting older is troublesome. I am on the verge of giving in and just becoming someone's mother, someone's wife, living in suburban tranquility (haha, never tranquility!). But I'm so exhausted, how can I keep up with what I used to be? I just don't know. Perhaps this is depression rearing its ugly head now.

I don't like where I'm going with this, so I'm going to stop while I'm still coping decently.

What he means to me...

I took down my previous post, the "introduction," because I felt uncomfortable being that revealing. I lost one follower, and I suspect that was because the person felt the post was inappropriate. And it probably was. You see, that's what happens when I get carried away! Sometimes it takes mistakes to get me back on track. I think, also, my lover was excited to learn that I was telling the world about us, and he doesn't mind sharing that kind of thing, and, of course, I wanted to please him. But, you know what--at the end of the day, this is MY blog and I am about recovery and unconventional lifestyles...but not without boundaries. So, here's a rewritten version, a bit more  poetic, that describes what my lover is to me. 

I still can't believe he wants ME. I have to shake myself sometimes to be reminded that this IS real.  I love that he works with his hands; they are so very talented. I love the rough sound of his voice and his creative mind. He's such an intriguing combination of logic and creativity, which leads to incredible experimentation during our times together--and the most intensely erotic fantasies I've ever read. The one problem we have is that we suck each other dry...We sap each others' energy (speaking for myself, I tend to get physically ill or, lately, go into shock after our meetings), so frequent meetings are not prudent. If I weren't already convinced about the power of the body's energy fields, I would be now. I did see a man's aura once during sex; that was completely different. I don't see anything with him; I FEEL the power. It overtakes me, every part of me, the moment I step into his presence. And I can feel it through his words, in emails, chats, etc. But the energy in person, that is on a whole other level of intensity.  

There's so much I want to do with him still. The list is almost endless (and repetitive!), but if I died tomorrow, I would be satisfied.

This relationship is the most physical I have ever experienced. He's taken me to the deep, dark places I couldn't even imagine before I met him. We don't speak many words when we're together, but our bodies and sounds tell the most erotic and sensual stories. I don't have to say how much I want him or how I feel when he touches me. Years of pent up longing are expressed without a word. His commands compel me to obey; they melt and thrill me. He concentrates deeply as he ties intricate knots with ropes that bind me, and simply watching him in this meditative state is enough. I allow him into places secret and forbidden and am rewarded with such pleasure. I love to touch him with the water pouring over us; in my mind, we are not in a shower, we are standing in the rain and he is slowly stripping me, enjoying each layer as it slips off my body...He moves in me, he fits perfectly, I feel him throb, the warmth and strength of his body press on mine and the divide between reality and fantasy disappears. I become another woman, the one who throbs and pulses and beats to his rhythm.  When we are skin to skin, no matter what we are attempting, I am in bliss. I open up to him like a spring flower. "All too easy," he chides, but I do not want to play hard-to-get with him; I am eager and happy to give all I have.

The honest truth.

I've got some soothing jazz on in the background (good old Frank Sinatra) and I'm trying to sort out the big questions running through my mind....now that I've experienced both extremes of the "relationship" spectrum, I am more confused than ever. What is important in this life? What do we really need in our lives? Are we coerced to believe that passion can fulfill the hole deep inside of us or is this something instinctual? Or is this a biological urge? What about romance, what about love? What do our cultures persuade us to believe about this? How much of an effect does marketing and advertising have on what we believe we want?

I honestly don't know. Sex without affection and intimacy feels cold and lonely. Love and romance without much desire feels sad. When I have one, I want the other. When I am in the throes of passion with my lover, the world ceases to exist, but my body desires BOTH physical satisfaction and the closeness that perhaps my hormones crave afterward. I cry every time we finish and I begin to dress to leave. I want him to hold me, to stroke my face and tell me that he cares about me. He does hold me, he does stroke my face, but he says "are you a happy girl?" And I look him straight in the eyes and say yes. He walks me impatiently out the door, where a doormat simply states it all in one word: "leave." I then drive away from his street, pull off to the side and break down in tears. I feel so cold. So alone and empty. He was in me, he left part of him inside me, his body touched mine in the most intimate of caresses, but there's nothing to show for it and I'm driving home alone. The desire and fulfillment was temporary. I ache.

He does not. He is glad to have me out of his home and out of his physical life, not having to deal with any emotion, any "drama," any talk of relationship or feelings. He just moves on, until he wants it again and begins "courting" me like an animal in heat, speaking half-truths that he forgets he ever said after he's been satisfied. I don't understand why I feel a need for something he despises.

At home, my marriage is warm and friendly. Many times, though, we take each other for granted, we move about like ships in the night. When we were dating, he wooed me with ice cream, holding hands, romantic messages. And it's been over 20 years we've been together, and he is a constant presence, mostly comforting, at times annoying, as people tend to be after so long, but steady and true. Dare I even say it, dull. No excitement, no surprises anymore, no tender early mornings, holding each other. Which is why we embarked on this thing in the first place.

So, what do I want? Passion or stability? Is this what happens to all marriages after so long? Are women programmed to want intimacy and desire at once or is this just me?

When I am shopping, I am very cognizant of the sexual theme in product advertising these days. Everything is geared toward "sexy": clothes, makeup, even groceries and bedding! Lean, mostly nude women lounge all over products, and even if the advertising is more subtle, it reeks of sex. In this culture, we are taught to consume in order to entice...we are taught that consuming and exuding sexuality is what we should live for. It is a very powerful message we are being given. It makes stable, mostly content, but somewhat unexciting marriages seem like a bad choice and, I truly feel, encourages low self-esteem and a focus on obtaining the unsustainable high that sexuality offers . It's just one factor among personal choices, of course, but if you have been to America, it will hit in the head like a brick. It is the essence of American consumerist culture.

But the result of consuming for attraction, for seeking pleasure without love, at least for this conflicted woman, is emptiness. Achinesss. And tears, lots of them.

A deep well

I want to share this haunting poem from a gem of a blog I just happened to "stumble on" (although I believe we never truly "stumble" on to anything!)  http://willspirit.com/2010/06/.  (image of the well also from willspirit's blog)

          

BEGINNINGS
The first three breaths after the last tremor of orgasm.
The first sixty seconds after the argument’s final howl.
The silence echoing the phone call that said,

“Your father died last night.”
The heart’s gallop when a future lover smiles in your direction.
The feral cries of an infant after deliverance from the birth canal.
Soon…
The world reforms itself.
The second hand starts moving.

We've been "debriefing" . . . it's always helpful to know what steps to take next or what to back away from. He said he was afraid I had gone into shock in the middle of the night, and that is exactly what happened (I didn't have a term for it). I became so cold--as in standing in outside naked in the Arctic circle type of cold--he wrapped me in three blankets and held me as I shivered, as my body went cold and numb and extreme nausea rushed through me; he whispered to me, he cradled me like a baby until my body started to warm up.  All I knew is that my body could not handle one second more of intensity.


With each release of orgasm after orgasm, grief gushed up from deep places; immense sadness without words, without a name. Swimming in a sea of sadness, he was the anchor. He accepts my need for release, for catharsis, with no judgment. He doesn't need to know why and I don't need to explain. We share a silent acceptance of all things sexual and our reactions to them. I don't understand where the grief comes from or why it only comes up when I'm with him. When I'm with my husband, it is simply sweet pleasure. I don't understand, but it is.

During the night, he held my hand between his two, as if surrounding a precious jewel with strong walls or safely protecting a tiny, innocent creature. He did not let go of me for a moment, not even in his sleep. What a precious, beautiful gift he is.

More thinking and connecting with the covert incest...

NO ABANDONMENT:
I have not been abandoned. I don't know where this fear comes from. Actually, one circumstance comes to mind: this person asked me to let him know I got home safely that night, but he didn't respond for a week-- and then only to stupidly lie that his power was out for a week. Since then, I don't trust men in these situations at all. They want what they want and then, who could care less; it's all lip service.

And that is just the surface issue. The deeper issue, once again, goes straight back to the covert incest. I know it must sound like a leap to connect these sexual encounters with covert incest in my past, but it makes sense to me when I look at it from a distance. The extreme fear of abandonment, the desire to please men (in whatever way),  the willingness to break boundaries...I'm not saying I regret this weekend, or any other time with my lover. I'm just aware in the back of my mind that, perhaps why he is so interested in me right now is because I allow more than other women do, that my boundaries are more porous, and I am willing to do most anything for his pleasure--all the "symptoms" are right there.

MORAL ISSUES:
Yes, I'm struggling with deciding if what I'm doing is right or wrong.  Having a lover, sanctioned though it is. Yes, becoming a mother has made me think twice. And yes, I know judgments abound about this issue.

I hate to think about what I would feel if I found out my daughter was doing exactly what I am doing. I would be critical and judgmental. Or maybe not; I don't really know. If I could understand what was in her head, I would probably be able to accept it.

From inside my head, it goes like this: I need to be validated, I need to feel desirable, and my husband honestly doesn't mind, for whatever reason. If he minded, I would not do it. If I were self-assured and content, I would not do it. If my sexual tastes were not so inflamed and specific, I would not do it. When I lose this lover, I don't want to go through the degrading, exhausting process of finding another.

I felt a deep sense of shame as I kissed my daughter goodbye for the night. My husband winked at me, told me to have fun. There's a dichotomy there that I can't quite reconcile.

On the positive side, last night my husband told me I look so young--that I look good. I guess that's what this lover does for me, too. Refreshed, relaxed, as good as a day at the spa. I wish I could find someone to talk to who also shares this lifestyle. That would definitely help.


PROCESSING:
I've been thinking a lot about (we call this "processing") the events of Saturday night. This was the first time he--anyone, really (except my dh)--wanted to please me as much as I wanted to please him. He made it very special, in the way he knows how. Many women complain because men just aren't sensually based and atmosphere-sensitive like we are; and men are proud that they have made a huge leap when they do one simple thing that women take for granted. Women tend to dismiss the effort because it doesn't live up to their expectations or what comes naturally to them. Does that make sense?

I don't think these things come naturally to him, but he actually wore his uniform and tried to add a little romance...he was definitely thinking about what would please me. That makes me so happy.  I realize what a huge statement these efforts were and I appreciate them simply because they were thoughtful and meant he had been listening and thinking and considering all this time.

Fire like no other...

I learned something Saturday night: if you play with fire, you will eventually get burned. I don't even know where to start. Intimacy, yes; fear, yes; loss of control...I thought he was made of steel, he could keep in control of himself and any situation. I was wrong. Just because someone is a master at Tai Kwan Do doesn't mean he is the master of his desires. We are both insanely compulsive and insanely human.

We overstepped a boundary, one we had set for ourselves. I am terrified--is this it? Is it over?  I don't know anything, I can't say what's going to happen or what he's thinking.

It was a fantastically erotic 17 hours. More new explorations, and I felt so comfortable with him that I let my guard down. I should have known; I can't do that without consequences. At 9:30am he was ready for me to go. So I left. He was watching me like a hawk as he led me away from his bedroom, down the stairs, and out of his house; I don't know why.

When I arrived, he texted me. I entered his house, locked the door behind me and followed his instructions. I walked into the master bedroom where the atmosphere was just right. This was definitely different--a candle in the dark, the stars and the earth in the background on the screen...silence for a few excrutiatingly long minutes. Then, a slight creaking of the stairs. Stealthy. He entered the room in his uniform, just the way he knows I like it. And it began.

He managed to accomplish all his goals. He turned me into a quivering, crying, moaning ball on his bed all afternoon and night, begging not to be touched at the end; he relaxed me into sleep; and in the morning in a desirous haze, we breached the boundary.  Everything he had ever wanted to do with me, in these four years of waiting. What is left now? For me, desire for him is never-ending. I do not know what is in his head. I am satisfied yet longing for more; terrified of abandonment after giving him the ultimate prize...

I did not think this would happen.

Great adventures!

I am returning to Europe at last! I am so excited, I can hardly sit still, even though it's eight months away! I was planning to attend a conference in New York City and then some colleagues brought this conference to my attention, with the sentiment: "Why would you go to New York when you can go to LONDON!!!" But OF COURSE!  So, I spoke with a friend of mine in London, who recommended a quaint, cozy hotel in the center of everything..BOOKED! This is going to be amazing--I don't want to say much about what my field of expertise is to preserve anonymity, but this is something I've been wanting to do for a long time! It's a personal hobby, but I take it very seriously; all of us in this field do. I'm going to be hobnobbing with all sorts of "famous" people, (in a way), how fun! DH will come with me if he can, but I secretly believe he'd be just as happy having a week of father-daughter time without me : )

Oh, I have missed Europe. My husband might have to search for me, as I may not return of my own volition.

So, this has been a good week so far. And tomorrow's Friday. One day until my rendezvous...we've gone completely silent now. It's part of the ritual. And when I arrive on his doorstep, he's going to wait an unbearably long time to open the door, and probably watch me squirm uncomfortably from the peephole...that's how it begins, at least from experience. Last time, he must have been laughing at me, as I burst my way into his hallway and immediately jumped him. He didn't stop me though, although he promised to this time : ) This is going to be grand fun.

Anticipation...

The time is getting close and, of course, I am sick. Just a cold, which I won’t let stop me, but I started to wonder if this wasn’t destined to be…the forecast looked to be snow on Saturday and I have a bit of a drive. But no, it will be a perfectly mild day, and I’ve only got a mild cold : ) I will be there.

I found out he will be deploying soon. I really want to see him before he goes, to leave good memories to take with him. He asked me what my favorite scent is, and this is a HUGE change. Last time, he didn’t do anything special for our meeting. He answered the door in his sweats, as if he wasn’t expecting much. He got A LOT more than he expected! But this time, like I said, he’s been making “modifications” to his bedroom, he’s been “shopping” a lot it sounds like, and he asked about scent. He’s been doing a lot of work! Something huge changed after the last meeting. He’s very wishy-washy about it; insinuating that I’m the only one…saying he’s “not going anywhere,” but at the same time reminding me not to get obsessed, that my family comes first. We argued about that one a bit—what is a single, younger guy doing telling ME how to prioritize my life!! Obvious, I have my priorities in the right place. That was overstepping the boundary. 

I’m not at all used to this. He seems perfectly content being a single bachelor, no interpersonal responsibilities. But at the same time, he does want a feminine presence in his life somehow—I asked him what our night would look like if he could choose (he never tells me what he wants), and he said he would like me to come Saturday afternoon and stay the night, leave in the morning. So I said, “granted.” This is a man who, as far as I know, does not like women to stay the night. He can’t sleep with a woman in his bed. Last time, though, he slept pretty well! I brought this up to him and he just smiled, that cocky, crooked smile…I am flattered that he can sleep next to me. Not that I want him to be sleeping at all! It was quite lovely last time, he spooned me and laced his fingers through mine, curled up tightly against me. I, of course, being an insomniac, didn’t sleep at all, but I loved that feeling of intimacy. I remember how he held my face and kissed me, told me that he loved having me there, and stood at the doorway, lifted his hand, and watch me drive away. Such a serious look on his face—the memory still sends shivers down my spine.

I wonder what it will be like this time.

A pagan ritual...and THIS is why people have babies!

My daughter and I connected yesterday in a beautiful manner.  I took her to the mall (I rarely do that, as I emphatically do NOT enjoy this typical American pastime) and pushed her around in her stroller (which I also rarely do, as I "wear" her everywhere), and this little girl was thrilled! The sounds, the sights, the people, the glitter; she simply loved it. And then we sat down to give her a bottle and she ended up laughing (and drinking at the same time!) and playing with my face--yanking my ears, my chin, caressing my cheek and smiling and giggling. As for me, I was loving it, too. So happy, so content. And she is beautiful, absolutely stunning--my round face and luminous eyes; her father's auburn hair, light skin and stunning blue eye color. This afternoon was worth everything. And this is why people have babies : )

Things are getting very intense now, as my "rendezvous" is approaching--less than two weeks to go. We are making plans, mercilessly teasing each other, finishing up our shopping expeditions...for me, I try to make every encounter different. This time, it's all about the details. Those exquisite details from etsy, the collar he gave me, sexy black stiletto heels, tatted lace bracelets from England, and the perfect finishing touch--Italian black stockings with red lace from Papilio. The sales woman helped me pick out the perfect touch : ) Ahhh. I'd already sent him the leather bracelet, just to get his mind racing...he's a very intellectual thinker and planner and these details send him over the edge; I just love it. And as for him, he's actually been making (permanent!) changes to his bedroom just for me, to accommodate my particular tastes. What a treat this will be. Next weekend is my spa day to purify my body; a ritual that I do every time. I feel as though I am preparing for a pagan ritual, and perhaps this is exactly what it is. It feels natural and in touch with the primal forces of nature--last time we were together, the crickets sang (their mating sound) so loudly, almost to match the songs coming from the inside of the house, that he calls me "the woman who speaks cricket" and I call him "the man who makes crickets jealous."

Update...things are definitely getting better

We upped the dose of the meds. I think it's helping, because I had a decent evening with my little one. I love picking her up at daycare. The look of recognition on her face is priceless and seeing her laugh just sets my heart soaring. It's so up and down, isn't it?

I was chastised by my psychiatrist for letting this get out of control; suffering serves no purpose, she said, unless I enjoy it. I stopped to think about that. Suffering is what I'm comfortable with--enjoyable? No, I would say not. It's more like I believe I don't deserve to be at peace.

Dh does say he understands and wants to support me to the best of his ability. It's funny; I think we're getting tired of the grind and routine and we'd really like to spend quality time together without it revolving around our daughter. That's a change, a lovely change. When dh and I hug or kiss each other in front of our daughter, our 11-month-old SMILES at us! This little human already knows about love! I'm amazed at her intuition already. She points to things she wants, she flips through books and laughs, she's playing with the other babies now, too. This fascinates me: the other day I pick her up at daycare and she is poking and touching this other baby's face. Well, this other baby is just sitting there, smiling at her and letting her do whatever she wants. No fussing, no upset, just patience and a look of sweet amusement. My daughter is enjoying the game and pushing the limits with this little boy...and THIS made me think of me and my husband. The calm, gentle willow tree that puts up with (with mild amusement) the impish antics of his wife. My daughter is a wild child, a wind spirit who will need someone exactly like this little boy beside her later in life. That was quite a heady experience for a mother!


Let's see, the meeting with my lover is in about three weeks and I am having a great time doing some, ahem, shopping...to appease his fetishes (and mine). Which is actually helping dh and I because it's opening up ideas for us, too. I found this amazing shop on Etsy--the young woman makes tatted lace jewelery--NeoVictorain, gorgeous, sexy, sexy, sexy things! Here are a couple of examples (her shop is Decoromana)

I can't believe the gorgeous, professional items on Etsy, and very reasonably priced, too. Why didn't I check this out before??? And get these--mini spats for a pair of amazing black stiletto heels (from BagavondBags )...

Now, is that something or what!!!

And...

Three sisters leather wrist or ankle wrap ( from kristinmalotte--or choker, but I don't need that since a personalized leather collar was his birthday gift to me...)

And then, of course, there's more, but I'll leave it for now : )
He's so much fun; he's hinted he's done some shopping for me, too. I can't believe he and my husband get along, as well. It's very bizarre, out of this world, but fun : )

All very different aspects of my varied, strange, and adventurous life : )

Duett-ASP

                       Life hurts.

 My lover wrote a story for me about something I am no longer capable of giving him. I sat in the bathroom weeping. I don't know what to do with this.

PPD ten months in...

I received a comment today on emptiness and the need to use addictions to fill it. In that moment, I realized just how empty I feel, and just how hard I'm trying to fill that hole. I haven't been able to find a 12-step group since we moved here. I can't make the hour drive to see my therapist anymore, not with a baby.  And I know a baby isn't meant to fill my emptiness--I am strongly aware of that, and I keep a level of detachment in that area. Not that I am not loving and caring of my child, but I realize that I must keep my self separate and not enmesh like my father did with me. That's the reason I continue working full time, and volunteering until I am so fatigued that I can't see straight. I try to do it ALL-keep myself intact, keep my child emotionally and physically safe and it's sapping the life out of me. I am not the same person I was just ten months ago. I feel sadder, more burdened, and unfortunately, more prone to my addictive tendencies. I find myself sometimes thinking too much about my lover, unable to detach as I need to. I keep myself up at night reading and rereading his emails and stories, forgetting at times the nature of this. I get sad, angry, then try to detach out of frustration. He doesn't fall for any of it, and I end up feeling helpless and depressed at times. Then I repair myself, become consumed with my everyday life, and it starts all over again. This is called obsession, I believe.

One of the emptinesses right now is that my daughter weaned herself very recently, about perhaps two weeks ago. It was gradual and I felt I was losing her. I had come to love breastfeeding, the closeness it brought to us, the earthy womanliness I discovered in myself, and the sense of worth and self-sufficiency I had gained through the act of being able to provide sustenance for this beautiful, dependent creature; how she grew plump and healthy on my milk. And now, it's all gone. I am left with a depression and a loss that I don't know how to cope with, aside from indulging myself with fantasies. Sexual fantasies and plans for a meeting, these things keep me going now. The fact that he will appreciate my body, as changed as it is; that he still wants my breasts in his mouth, that he makes me feel sexy and gorgeous and alive, the opposite of my feeling on most days. I'm clinging to this like a life raft, and I am so sad.

Born American, but feel out of time and place

Directed by my pastor of course, I found an entire album of these incredible, profound but not cliche, sayings. I hate cliches, even if some are true. But this sounds to me like a 12-step saying, and to me, recovery sayings are never cliche.

Can you think of instances in your life when you had to accept something you didn't want to happen?
Found out more information than was comfortable? Let go of someone you thought you would die without having in your life?

I know I can--can you?

On a different topic, I had the heavy thought yesterday that perhaps keeping something like this (having a lover) a secret from the world just doesn't feel good. We have access to each other's worlds through facebook (the bane of my existence at times); he seems to like keeping track of my day-to-day life sometimes, but we cannot speak of this to anyone. I am a hidden part of his life. I know who his friends are, his family, I hear a lot from him about these people. I have a much better sense of his life now and who he is than I had even a few months ago. But I am the secret shadow in the night that comes and goes. Not so on my end at all. But there are many times I try to forget that he is in my world at all, so I don't end up in the same emotional place I have been before. Since it's been so many years, he takes my presence for granted, I think. He believes we are "close and intimate" but I wonder...how close and intimate can you be with someone when you are constantly having to make sure his interest in you stays peaked? You can't truly be yourself. I try not to talk about mundanities, I don't talk at all about the struggles in my head, I try to be the woman he imagines me to be. And it's sort of the opposite of the real me: he sees a woman who doesn't ask much of him, who is independent, not clingy, in emotional control; one who touches his cheek gently when she crawls out of bed, showers, packs up and leaves with no demands, no longing to stay....in other words, the absence of everything I am inside! And he knows that, I really think. But he likes it this way. And I'm a good actress when I need to be, I suppose.


He's told me that I am his perfect lover, and he wants to find a younger version of me as the perfect mate.  I did not know how to take that- a compliment or an insult.  I don't know, I get very sad sometimes. It feels like this world is really quite cruel. Monogamy would be blissful if one person could meet every need. I don't know what you call this, but it makes me sad because one person fulfills 95 percent of what I need in a man, and the other, 5 percent. But that "small" 5 percent is what causes others in monogamous relationships to have affairs, and this is what my father did when he divorced my mother.

Even younger and single, though, I could never have married him; we're too different. Engineer mind vs. pure emotion. But sexually, this works perfectly and fills a deep part of me that I don't believe another human could.

I talk about this so much because it is a human relationship like any other, impacted by other experiences and relationships--past and present--but simply not an acceptable type in American society.

I never did fit in here in any case. I seem to fit in whenever I travel abroad for some reason. I'm more comfortable and people tend to treat me as familiar in some way. Not here. I stick out like a sore thumb here.  I know I was born out of time and place, not fit for twenty-first century America.

Please Don't Leave Me by Pink

One of my favorite songs, Pink "Please Don't Leave Me"--I found this comment under the youtube video:

"I wonder how many people get this video. It's usually the man who plays Pink's role but I think it was ingenious of her to play the role herself instead of playing the victim. It's about abuse and narcissism. It's about selfish self-centeredness. It's about control freak behavior. It's not about female power, it's about abusive relationships."

I discovered Pink while I was at the Caron recovery program--I think she's  quite flamboyant, but speaks for victims of domestic abuse and addiction. I probably mentioned it before, but this is the song my group therapists played "accidentally" for me at the end of the program. I personally don't believe it was any accident! The first time I listened to the lyrics closely, I recognized myself and it scared the crap out of me. That's exactly how I was with one person. "You're my perfect little punching bag. I need you. I'm sorry." But these things aren't one-sided; they're very complex and it's part of the karmic relationship; I've known that for a long time. I was both the perpetrator and the victim. That's the relieving thing about my current lover--there is no karmic revenge in the background, waiting to play itself out.

After those four years, out of the blue one day (he'd been seeing many women for the past four years, this was a very casual thing), he "proposed": "I want you as my lover, ----, you." He'd finally made up his mind, I guess. I didn't know there was anything to make up his mind about. Our meetings are so infrequent and he was never vocal about anything up until then. I've since found out what a deep, damn smart (absolutely gifted-physically, academically, artistically...I had no idea!) person he is. It's like the Irish ballad about a woman running off with a gypsy, only to find out after she married him that he was a wealthy, landed aristocrat! You accept someone for who they really are--and only then might you find out their secrets. I simply accepted his reservedness and never asked anything of him. I don't know how I managed that because I am a very needy person, as a certain few people can attest to. Probably because I am happily married, believe it or not. He likes that--we all like that. I don't see him often in order to keep my mind on my family--he takes me to a completely different realm when I'm with him and it takes me about a month to fully return, so our meetings are spaced out. I think something similar happens to him, too. He's talked about "recovering" and "processing" before, and he gets so exhausted! It's funny to me, how knocked out he gets, when I'm full of energy (and I'm ten years older than him!) We're all happy this way, though. I can't explain it, why this works for all of us in a monogamous culture.

Next time...Pink's song "Fucking Perfect"... for all of us who hate ourselves, contemplate suicide, and eventually recover.

Lover versus casual sex

 Is having a lover the same as having casual sex?

"No ma'am, it isn't. A lover you can relax with, explore with, ask for what you want, ask for what they want, and try everything you both want.
As a casual sex thing there isn't the time to learn the things you can with a lover. In my humble opinion anyway."
http://www.answerbag.com/q_view/761861#ixzz1aUAWJBx7

This whole relationship started out as a casual sex idea. Signed up on a sex site, put up an ad, as I've said before. We started chatting near the beginning of my tenure on this site. He never expected to meet in person, and by the time I had chosen the first and second encounters and had gone through hell, he was pretty sure we never would. I told him there was no chance; he was better off looking for another tryst. But he stuck around, we chatted for a few years, we became friends, sort of...had a lot of cybersex,  and finally out of the blue, my husband and I were ready to test the waters again. We felt we could trust him, and he was accommodating in every way. We met for the first time on my 40th birthday, and the explosive energy was immediate and overwhelming. I thought that would be it, sadly, really sadly. I cried for weeks afterward. Two years later, though, we have not only kept in touch and but he also rode out my pregnancy with me in a supportive, yet erotic way.  And now, we are lovers, in the above definition of the word, and our hope is to be this to each other for quite a while. I pray this will be the case. Oh women, to have a lover who appreciates a pregnant body is such a blessing. And afterward, even more so. This is a blessing I would wish on any woman who wants it.

I've always wanted to read Lady Chatterley's Lover. Perhaps now is the perfect time. 

I've discovered a new site called "The Experience Project," in which one can talk about any kind of experience they want or have had. I have only looked it over, but it seems to be an honest, open place. Join me there if you like (liliacspring). www.experienceproject.com