2017 Has Begun

January 31st, 2017

I haven’t posted this month. I have reasons(excuses), but really, I just haven’t had the energy. I’ve had lots of ideas flitting through my head: in one hear, bouncing around for a few moments, and then slipping right out again before I got pen to paper. I should write things down faster, I guess. 😉

Most of my energy this month has gone to interviews, my chosen family, and politics. My gods, the politics. I don’t even want to get into all of that insanity. Not right now. Not here. I just wanted to let my readers know that I’m still here, and I’m still going to be writing.

Winter Wickedness is this weekend, and it’s the least prepared for a big event I’ve ever been. Ah well, it’ll be a casual one, I guess. I am planning on having one new outfit, possibly for the pirate theme, more likely not. We shall see how shopping goes.

With any luck, I’ll have plenty of fodder for posts next week. 🙂

 

Share

“You Are Loved and Desired”

November 24th, 2016

He does a very good job of making me feel loved. When he sent me the above message today, I nearly cried. But let’s be honest, I cry so very easily, especially in stressful times. He always makes me feel loved and appreciated. Desired, however, is a harder one. Do I know that he enjoys playing with me? Yes. Do I know he enjoys my company? Yes. Do I know he enjoys both my suffering and my service? Yes. Do I often feel desired by him? No?

Desired is a loaded word, for me, I guess.  English Oxford Living Dictionary defines it as: 1) A strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen, 2) strong sexual feeling or appetite. My overthinking, self-judgmental brain tends to focus on the latter of these definitions, and as he and I have a “non-romantic/sexual” relationship, desire is not a word I often use for his feelings for me. I desire him in this way, always have, always will, but I put it on hold and keep it at bay, to keep expectations managed and balanced. Over the years, it has wobbled up and down, depending on what’s going on, and his testing various waters. But it tends to return to this balance.

Today, he sent me that message. Tonight, after his initial plans were dashed by unexpected class set-up, he got me aside for a flogging.

Leather mop warm-ups. Good and steady, get me bobbing and swaying, into the zone. Eyes closed, just feeling it, and him. Fingertips make me shiver. Then off to get the big deer flogger, gods, I’ve missed that. But solid thumps. Heavy sounding thwacks. Pounding me into the wall. Knocking groans out of my chest. Then snaps. Sting. Not the whip, not the tips, heavier. Squeals of pain. I have a vague notion, but it’s not until he lays it over my arms in front of me that I’m sure it’s the dragon tail. A few more heavy hits, and then the deer flogger is over my arms, as well.

He bring up the rubber mops. Ready for this? It’s been a long time. Too long. Let’s find out. Surprisingly, I am. They feel good, heavy, solid. Slamming out more groans, eyes squeezed shut makes balance occasionally hard, but keeps me deep. Tipping Florentine brings out more squeals, then heavy, deep double blows, rock me into the wall. He counts me up to orgasm a few times. Thank you, Sir! Do you feel desired? He asks between them. Yes, Sir. And we go right back into it. I last a lot longer than I expect to, though we both know our old endurance challenge is probably a bad idea. It feels so good, slamming my back, pulling out screams with the tips, groaning with the big hits. I know he lifted me by the hair at one point, but I can’t even place where that was. Finger tips on hot flesh send me gasping. He spanks me to another counted orgasm as we finish up. Kisses and hugs and thank you. He grabs my back a few more times in the evening, even another counted orgasm before we’re through. A very nice Thanksgiving night.

That’s what desire means for us, between us. A different kind of energy – the smack of flogger on flesh, the screams and groans, the rocking and tapping and swinging. The pushing back and forth of our energy. The gleam in his eye as a crumple against the wall, squealing at the lash. The grin on his face when I pop back up and present my back again, and again. The one, two, three…. Thank you, Sir. The touch of fingertips on burning skin, and the rough grab and squeeze to get one more squeal.

I forget that sometimes, when I let my brain run on. It is still very programmed with societal norms. There are things I still want to find in my life, to add to my life. But I am extremely lucky and blessed by what I do have. A partner who loves, appreciates, and yes, desires me, in our own special way.

Share

Energy

May 1st, 2016

I meant to post a thing about energy. Been meaning to since Wednesday night. I even meant to have a conversation about it this weekend. But I’ve just been so busy/exhausted. Irony, oh how I love you. So, let’s get this going.

Wednesday night, we had a class entitled: Sacred Touch. Every fall, at COPE, there is a space called: The Scarlet Sanctuary. Both were about a practice of sensual, but not sexual, touch between (usually) two givers and one receiver. The receiver lies on a (massage) table, face up. The givers proceed with light touch all over the body of the receiver. There is negotiation first, and removal of whatever clothing the receiver wishes. The idea, as I understood it being explained this week, is that with four hands on one’s body, the brain cannot process it all and it can put the receiver into a floaty or subspace kind of zone. The experience is different for everyone involved, every time it occurs, I am told. This week was the first time I experienced it.

I have said that I’m not a very “woo” person, but this may be inaccurate. I have faith in a God above, and to some, that’s a very “woo” thing. I believe in personal energy, and that can be a very “woo” thing. I’m not into the seeing auras, and reading futures, because that’s not part of my personal life. But I do feel energy, sometimes to an extreme. I do enjoy the energy circle created by sex or by scenes. I do, on occasion, worry that my energy is too needy, or that I’m in danger of being an energy vampire when I’m sad, lonely, or upset. Other times, I am repulse by the energy of others, or overwhelmed by the energy of a large group or gathering.

Because of these latter two, I often keep my energy bubble in tight. I stay inside myself. I exhibit the usual closed body language – arms and legs crossed, curled in upon myself. Afraid to let it go. Afraid to mix my energy with others. Even those I love, for fear of being a drain on them and their energy. In some situations, they pull me out of, or crack my shell. When he and I have intense scenes, or he sends me flying, my bubble bursts wide open. When my new lover and I have sex, he peels away the outer layer and our energies flow together. But after, I always put myself back together, zip it back up, keep it tight.

So, I wanted to try this sacred touch, this opening up, this letting go with people whose goal it is to not just let me, but to make a space for it, for the mingling and releasing of energies. Three people were leading tables, with each guiding a new volunteer with each scene, so people could try out giving as well as receiving. I requested the leader that is a dear friend of mine, but not one I’d ever scened with, other than helping him tease her. I didn’t know the other two leaders, except by face, and I trust her. The volunteer giver was someone I knew by face, but not much beyond, but that was unimportant, I felt I could let go with her there.

After negotiations, she helped me peel down (part of the service) to bra and panties, and they both helped me onto the table. It started slow, just feeling out my skin, as I told myself to relax, to release my shoulders, to just give in. An odd chime sounded as part of the music, sounding like the chime used to end meditation at the Open Sangha and I laughed to myself and dropped back down into the music and touch. I repeated to myself over and over: “It’s okay, it’s ____, just let go” until I believed it.

Tears dripped out of my eyes and down my cheeks, as I let go of stress and balled up energy. She held my head, wiped away a tear or two, touched my forehead. Reassuring. More tears fell, not hard, just a trickle out of my eyes as stress left my chest. And their hands kept running over my skin. The trickle stopped, for the most part, and I started vibrating. I do this in scenes sometimes, sensation breaks me open, and I just start shaking with the energy. I laughed a little bit, trying to breathe it out, as the session came to an end. Just take your time, she told me, and I nodded, still shaking.

After a few moments, I took their hands and sat up, shivering more than shaking now. Breathing deeply to settle myself back down. I thanked them both as I settled back into my body. Cold now, so she helped me back into my clothes, and when I returned to my seat, I grabbed my jacket, too.

It was an oddly peaceful feeling, when it was all done and the final ceremony to release the gathered extra energy was done. I felt, not empty, but calmed. As though my energy had been smoothed out, like released muscles after a good massage. He commented that I was extra quiet when I dropped by to return the gear afterwards. I was floating, I told him. It was like floating, in a clear, calm pool.

I went into my weekend up north with much more calm than I usually do, eager to be going, certainly, but without the desperate need I have been feeling, to escape from the stresses of home. It was nice to be there, in a calmer state than usual, and left me better able to be supportive of him. Doing my best to keep that calm state for the coming week, with a local convention where another group I’m involved in will be running parties.

Share

Needs, Wants & Desires – Part 2

July 1st, 2013

My previous post talked about my needs, wants, and desires when I bottom in the scene. I also said that was the first way I would address them, so I suppose I should keep my end of the bargain and address them as a top, as well. I don’t top much, I service top for the show, so my needs, wants, and desires are probably much different from “regular” tops.

Needs. I need full and eager consent. If someone shows hesitation, or fear I talk to them gently, to find out if they really want to do it. If they seem to be being forced into the scene by a friend or partner, I will refuse. If someone is in a state that makes them incapable of giving consent (we work in bars), I will also refuse. If it’s a good friend, I will tease and poke, but never go forward without consent.

Wants. I want connection, an exchange of energy. I want to see them smile, or hear them moan. I want to see them writhe or wiggle or jump. I want to hear them giggle, or sigh. Bottoms who sit rigidly still and silent, who don’t even look like they are enjoying the scene, are hugely draining. It makes me wonder if they really wanted to be sitting in the chair at all.

Desires. What’s the cherry on top for a service top? That huge grin when I’m done. The, Oh my gods, that was wonderful! The thank you’s. The hugs. The requests to take me home. The appreciation of the bottom. Those first timers who come back again, and again, and again.

I mostly only top violet wand scenes, so my needs, wants, and desires are pretty simple from a top perspective.

Share

Face Down Floaty, for Old Time’s Sake

September 17th, 2012

Face up? Or face down? Nice and floaty for old time’s sake?

Face down, I reply nodding. I’m his third suspension of the evening, the other two were quite energetic, and time is running short on this night’s play party. I strip down to my shiny boots, it’s been a long time since he’s suspended me naked. Catacombs? No, I had panties then. Had he ever? I’m trying to remember if one of the nights with toy had me up and naked. He pulls me out of my thoughts. Wraps around the ribs, and tied off to the ring. Down to the waist, double coin, and I’m gone. Down in my head, in my body. Sunk deep into the rope, as he wraps my thighs. I worry I won’t be able to answer him when he puts me up, not sure I have control of my vocal cords. The biners are in, the lift ropes threaded and he lifts. Levels me out and it is good. He ties off my ankles. I’m able to answer, even ask him to run his fingers through the thigh ropes. So much more comfortable than my earlier scene, as it is meant to be. He ties a blindfold around my head, and I’m gone again.

Sinking into the ropes, floating in midair. I don’t know what order things happen in from here on out. I’m floating and he’s pushing me gently. Spinning a bit, slowly I think. And he’s hitting me gently. Shoulders, thighs, ass. I can’t tell what it is. A handle? Is he using the handle of a flogger? (I later learn it was his flashlight.) Walking with my as I spin to keep hitting the same spots. Am I spinning? I am not sure. I focus on my hands, so I don’t get dizzy.

Then he’s pushing me. High up into the air. Higher than I think the rig can go. I’m grinning and giggling. He is too. I move my arms, behind my back, across my chest, hanging down. Swinging and then spinning. A little too much, I don’t want to stop, I hold up a hand and he stops spinning and keeps on pushing. It feels wonderful. So wonderful, I reach for him. I want him. He turns me to him, my hands on his shoulders, gasping, heads together. Oh god, I can’t even describe the energy flowing between us. Almost done, I tell him, holding him tightly. I push up, relieving the pressure, two face-downs might have been a bad idea. Okay, yes, I’m done.

He’s up and untying, feet first, then lets down my legs, to my feet, blindfold off and I’m smiling at him, leaning into the rope. Arms wrapped around him. Thank you, so much. I float down slowly as he unties, handing off the ropes to the engineer. When he finishes, another tight hug and kiss. Thank you. Time to take are of him, we go back to the room.

Share

The Only Constant is Change

June 7th, 2012

Lots of stuff on my mind today. I’ll break it up into two short posts and one long post.

First things first. I now have all my ebooks up on the Erotica Collections Page. And they are all available in print over at HP Magcloud. I’ll be doing an anthology of all of them soon, as well.

I sent an email to my best friend this week entitled: The only constant is change. Things are changing in my world again, and not all of it is mine to tell. So, I’ll stick to what is. Schedules have been rearranged and I’m back to my old night with him. I always liked the reasoning for having had that night. Go home with him after playing at practice. And I agree, that some nights, having to go home to an empty bed has been quite hard. So, that will be nice to have again.

It also means a night to myself once a week (and one for himself, too). Which I haven’t had in quite some time. I’m told this is bad(that I haven’t had one). I know I’m not taking care of myself as well as I should be. Sure, I have tons of time alone during the week, when I’m not working on a day. But I generally spend that time on the computer and/or in front of the TV. And while this is fun, and productive, it’s not especially healthy, or care-taking. So, my plan, as of now, is to spend time taking care of myself. To spend time walking around in parks out of doors. To take a few bubble baths. To find somewhere I can go stargazing. To relax, unplug and unwind.

I saw a meme the other day about things not to say to an artist. One of them was about how nice it must be not to have to work. I admit, I’m far more lazy than most artists, and with all the stress and crazy going on in my life, writing has been far harder than it ought to be, and I’m doing far less that I want to be. So, I’m hoping to find my center again, and get the creative juices flowing more easily. As well as, have more energy to put into my relationships, and life in general.

 

Share

My Passion

May 21st, 2012

Today, I want you to do whatever is your passion. That was the start of the GRUE this weekend. People were invited to put their passion, in the form of a class title up on the wall, and to lead classes all day to teach/discuss their passions. I’d had a few ideas to put up on the wall until that was said, then I had nothing. Instead, I went and put up his passion instead, he wanted to fly people, and to teach his favorite tie. So, that’s what we did.

He taught the drum tie, with me assisting. It was a big class, so I went around and helped those who were having trouble. I pointed out where they had gone the wrong way, or I showed them what to do next when they got lost. I helped with the tricky knots. It was great, and he often praised or thanked me for it. Once folk were tied, I helped guide their heads off the ground and back down again. In between, I got to watch them Fly.

Oh, did they fly! So many new faces, so many first times. Such joy and amazement. And him, bouncing and running and grinning so wide. The onlookers staring and laughing, all of us enjoying the moment and the energy. And when they came down, and I cradled their heads in my lap. They were still glowing so brightly. It was incredible.

And he didn’t stop. He helped put up everyone from the class that wanted to go up. And then he kept going. People kept coming and asking to go up. He had quite the queue. We didn’t even get halfway through it. All day he kept going. And people came by to learn, as well. He taught the tie at least three more times throughout the day.

I was so full of energy, I couldn’t stay still. Often, when he was tying, I would wander off. I wandered off to a bootblack class for a bit. Talking with one of the bootblacks that I learned with, and discussing technique and products with the others that showed up. I cut out halfway through to see if he needed help when I saw him lowering someone, but her boy was catching her. He did have me run out for his gloves then. I went back to bootblacking after that for more discussion. I learned a lot about high polish boots, that being the side I don’t work with at all right now.

I wandered in and out of a lot of other demo classes. Fire, paddles, floggers, cigars, another couple suspension classes. But never for very long. I was curious, but not focused on them. I wanted to keep an eye on everything going on, but I kept coming back to him. Kept checking in. Bringing him water, making his sandwich after another friend insisted on getting us both food. Fetching things from the truck. Cleaning up the ropes between scenes. Keeping track of the queue. Basking in the energy each and every suspension created.

People kept asking if I was having fun. Some concerned that I wasn’t getting suspended. I told every single one of them yes. I was having a great time. Didn’t they See the huge grin on that girl’s face? Didn’t they see how awesome a time everyone was having? It was so great to see so many people have their first experience flying. I had an amazing day.

At the closing circle, my emotions were on a rollercoaster. I was so very near to tears then calm then up near tears again, all joy, full with the energy of that room full of people. Leaning against him, his arms around me. When he spoke up, he said how great a support I had been to him all day. Several people thanked him for his passion. I couldn’t speak, afraid I would cry and be unintelligible. We went to dinner, buzzing about the day, chattering, happy. It was a great day. I’m so glad I decided to go.

I began to wonder though, as he talked about having done his passion all day. What had I done? What was my passion? Had I fulfilled my purpose at the GRUE? Had I followed the rule? I fluttered around all day. Did that mean I didn’t have a passion?

No. No, I did indeed fulfill the purpose of the GRUE. I lived my passion. I spent the entire day serving him. Even my fluttering. To learn more about bootblacking. To keep an eye on who was using the other point. To check on everyone around and see what was happening and that everyone was happy and safe. To help him teach. To help him suspend new people. To share his joy and theirs. I spent the day fulfilling my passion of service to him. And it was wonderful.

Share

Round Two

March 22nd, 2012

“Now for what I want.”

“Yes, Sir.” She gripped the cross legs behind her thighs and grinned back at him.

Crack Snap Crack.

He landed a hit on each nipple and a teasing mid-air snap in front of her nose. She squealed and tensed trying to remain perfectly still. Clenching her hands on the boards lest she reflexively cover herself.

Crack Crack.

Crack Crack.

She let out her breath in a scream when he finished, barely able to keep her hands down, as he laid two lines across each breast. Bright red kisses pointing to her nipples. Mumbling curses as she caught her breath, gazing up at his giddiness.

Crack.

She howled and bounced on one leg as he caught her thigh.

Crack.

He stopped her bouncing with a strike to the other leg.

She gasped and half-glared, half-grinned up at him.

Then she saw the light bulb and he turned to get a different toy.

“Close your eyes.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Her breath quickened as she strained to hear a hint of what he was getting. She could tell where he was, but there were so many toys there, and he was being careful.

She felt him return, closer than before, and he wasted no time.

Thwap!

She yelped as rubber floggers slammed down on her breasts.

Thwap. Thwap.

She groaned into the hits, keeping her eyes closed and her chin up to avoid the falls.

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap!

Left. Right. Both. She gasped and moaned at the hits.

The he picked up a beat. And the rocked together. Single hits per beat. Double. And then triple. Six-count to the beat of the music. She started with a groan, building into a moan and ending with a scream.

He pulled back down. Double and then single hits per beat. Quarter notes on her chest. Pounding out gasps and moans.

“Can… I… Open… My… Eyes… Sir?” She managed between gasps.

His response was to pick up speed again until she screamed and tried to collapse, but there was nowhere to go. Pausing for a moment, he answered.

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She managed through ragged gasps, and she opened her eyes to see his glowing face before her. Tears filling her eyes, but her smile matching his.

He returned to simple beats, staring into her eyes now. They moved together, breathed together, energy flowing free and joyful between them.

A new song came on, and he picked up the pace. Not too fast, but fast enough to send her humming into space.

Thwap gasp. Thwap moan. Thwap gasp. Thwap moan.

Into six count, her head fell back, eyes closed, hardly remembering to breathe in as it all came out in a long, moaning growl, fingers digging into the wooden cross.

Thwap!

A downbeat to end the song and she nearly falls, but he is there, hand in her hair, holding her up, kissing her.

“Good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome.” He pulls her off the cross and against his chest.

“I love you, Sir.” She wraps her arms around him.

“I love you, too.” He kisses her forehead and leads her off to blankets and cuddles.

Share

Wonderful Night

March 8th, 2012

I may want tears tonight.

I smiled back at him, warmth filling me at the thought. I’d been aching for that, and we were both finally in a place where it would be healthy to go there. His boots needed attention, too. Having just gotten the soles replaced on both pairs. I hadn’t blacked the steel toed ones in a while. It was going to be a good night.

Arrive, hugs and snuggles. His boot toes are certainly dirty. The puppy is too rambunctious though, we head downstairs. My kit in hand, he sets up a chair in the back corner in a decent pool of light. Down onto the cold cement I go, think skirt barely any protection. Set out the kit, go get water. He gets distracted by a self-suspension and goes to offer advice and assistance. I wait patiently, preparing myself to serve him.

He returns and we roll up his pant legs. I unlace his boots, draping the waxed strings over my neck, bight towards the respective boot. Lather created while I waited, I head for the right boot, pulling it up onto my thigh. Snip a few strings. Saddle soap, brush, toothbrush and fingers, working into the soft leather. Switch. Left boot on right thigh. It feels good to have them in my hands again. Clean it up and snip a more strings. Switch. I have to sit at this point. Bare feet on cement with the added weight of his leg is doing no good for my feet. Black gold for the shine. Fingertips working every inch. The class has started behind me at some point, I’m listening, but the boots hold my focus. Switch. More black gold and work into the leather. China marker and I bring out the sole lacing, bright white beneath the gleaming black leather. Quick run with a cloth and done. Pack up and sit to his right. Arms around his leg, head on his knee for the rest of class. The engineer girlfriend on his left. He pets and strokes, and squeezes our shoulder knots as we listen and talk about violet wands.

Class over, I am responsible for a few minutes, organizing for the weekend. He warms up on the wall and then smiles over at me. Ready to go? Yes. I put aside my phone and glasses, toss my shirt to the floor below them and walk to the cross. Taking off my bra, I drop it against the wall and hug the beams.

He starts off with the short, soft ones, but they still sting a little with the power he uses. The music isn’t playing yet, he’s got mp3s playing in his ears, but I don’t know what song. I close my eyes and concentrate on the strikes. Catching his rhythm, I bob my head with the hits. The room is full of conversation, but I focus in on us. On the cross, on the floggers, the energy between us. The leather feels so good on my back. His hands beat into the muscles, fingers drag over the heated skin.

He rides the waves of the music in his ears. The strikes come harder and faster, bringing moans then screams. I bounce and stamp, my heel begins to tap with the beat. I am grateful for the mobility of the cross. I shake it and pull on it. We ride the wave back down. His hand in my hair, he pulls me off the cross and down to my knees. My hands on my thighs, I breathe and wait.

He pulls me up again. Stingy floggers, and I scream. Jumping and bobbing and writing against the cross. Falling deep into space. Growling with determination. I can feel the attention some of my screaming is drawing. I smirk, but it is swallowed by another scream. He pauses whenever I jump around. Waiting for me to come back to him. I hear the engineer beating the wall beside me. I know it is her, though I don’t look. Her strikes familiar. I feel his hands again, sending shivers through my body.

Now there are mop floggers. More solid hits. Hard, throbbing against the cross. I hear music, but it isn’t what he’s listening to, so it doesn’t matter. The mops beat into me and he goes faster. Six count and my head can’t keep up, it starts rolling as the flogs roll over my back. The scream builds low in my belly until it bursts free.

His hand in my hair, pulling me up. Your skin is breaking, we’re going to have to stop soon. How are you? I can only smile. I think I manage Good. Do I need to put you in the corner? I nod. He puts me back down. I nearly cry. My body betrays me.

He strikes again and I jump. Oh, we’re starting again, he grins. I nod and he hits. Hard and stingy. I scream and writhe. I hear the engineer beside me, singing. Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abuse. I smile through my screams. Her voice a perfect compliment to the end of our scene. My head bobbing with the song as I scream and shake the cross. I hit my knee once and bounce quickly back up. I hear him start to count with his strikes. 1. Scream. 2. Scream. 3. I drop, but not to my knees, hanging from the cross momentarily in orgasmic release. I pull myself back up. And he finishes off with a few more strikes.

Then his hand is in my hair again, pulling me away from the cross. Around other people and then forcing me down to my knees sheltered by some spanking benches. Head down, eyes tightly closed, hands out. I’m too deep in space to be touched. I can hear everything around me, but it doesn’t matter. The energy is all I care about. The floating, happy, gasping, shaking wonderfulness inside me.

Slowly, I float back down into my body. The sounds around me start to invade. I hear him start in on the engineer. The people beside me talking about blow jobs. Noise and cold air. I’m not ready yet. I ignore it for a little longer, my eyes still heavy.

I’m numb from the knee down before I’m ready to open my eyes. I look around. Who are these people next to me? I still don’t know. He flips a flogger out of his grip and we smile. But I’m awake now, time to move. I don’t want to continue listening to the conversation beside me. I drag myself up onto unfeeling feet and make my way to my things. Glasses on, shirt wrapped around me, text messages checked.

I head over to the bishop’s chair to perch and watch the rest of their scene. She stands still. I am amazed and a little confused. Her happy place, she’ll later explain. But then she starts reacting. Screaming and curling up against the cross. He grins with glee, and goes after sharper toys, even the dragon tail, though he only slaps with it, doesn’t snap. She curses and screams until he is done. Then he wraps her up against his chest.

A few minutes and then calls me over to join them. Snuggling together by the cross, until we’re ready to move. I scoop up my bra and we head upstairs. The couch is taken, but he heads for the big chair and we sit at his feet again, heads on his knees. After awhile the couch is free and we pile on in. Snuggled against his chest and shoulders, arms and legs entwined. Relaxing together until it is time to go.

My shoulders are wet and tacky, a layer of skin is gone, but they only sting a bit, not hurt. The next day they’ll be cold. A new and confusing sensation. Hers are quite tender and it makes me want to poke them when I hug her good night. We head our separate ways with hugs and kisses. It has been a wonderful night for us all.

Share

What’ve You Got To Lose?

December 1st, 2011

A journal entry from earlier this week:

The longer you’ve been around, the more you have to lose. As wife, before girlfriends exist, you have everything. All the love, time, attention, interest. Then comes girlfriend, and love multiplies, but time and attention are divided, and if you’re lucky, interest gets multiplied by the extra energy. Sometimes, though, NRE can make it feel like she gets more and you get less. It can take time to rebalance.

The cycle continues for girlfriend. You get all you can until second girlfriend arrives. Then, by the needs of reality, time and attention are further divided, love is multiplied, and interest fluctuates, hopefully ending up in the positive direction. As more partners are added, balance gets harder to maintain, and needs and wants are weighed more carefully.

One ripple causes waves throughout, and if it starts as a wave, storms can appear. Tidal pools of spiraling emotions, pulling everyone down until someone catches a life-preserver and pulls the rest back up.

So, how do you survive the divisions? By enjoying that which is multiplied. By believing the benefits outweigh the cost. By being heard, even when you don’t get everything you want. By being gracious, compassionate, compersive and by compromising. Life is a state of constant change, you have to keep up and ask for the love and support you need to do so.

 

This is relevant in two, completely opposite directions in my life right now. One, hubby is down to just me. This makes the time he has to spend with me greater, though my availability has not truly changed. It may, if needed, or as schedules naturally morph over time and situation. But he and I must find a new balance, as he will be home for time I’ve previously spent alone, and he may find a desire for more of my time than he currently has.

Two, he is up to a wife and four girlfriends, and his wife is changing to day shifts next week. For a while now, most of the time divided by him, has been time she is usually at work. Now, though, it won’t be, and I imagine she is feeling the sting sharper for the amount of time she now has available and the huge chunks of it already scheduled with us. So, we look for balance, not only of time between the five of us, but of place, to give her space in her home.

We don’t have answers for any of this, yet. But we are all committed to making it work. For the love we all share, and the community we are creating together, makes us all stronger and better, and fills our lives with incredible joy.

Share