Simplicity

 i don't need 

fancy or shiny things

give me 

slow hands

honest eyes

and your full attention

with ease

and butterflies

give me you

that's all i will ever need

to be happy

The Difference

HE: Darling, let's have sex. I am horny

SHE: No hun 

HE: No?

SHE: No, let's make love.

HE: What's the difference?

SHE: People have sex simply because they are horny, we make love because of intimacy. Sex can easily be done by anyone, making love is with someone you love

HE: I love you

SHE: I love you too. Making something means we're putting thought and heart to it, not just chasing after an orgasm. Love making is not about who is horny and needs an orgasm but the both of us. Love making is kissing, love making is speaking love to each other, love making is pursuing me, knowing me. Love making is opening up to you a world that you view as sacred, not just giving you a wet vaglna. Love making is touching each other with affection. Love making is looking to each other's eyes and seeing faithfulness, depth, honesty, vulnerability. Do you know many wives wish their husbands would make love to them as opposed to having sex?

HE: I am guessing many?

SHE: So many my love. It's just that many wives don't know how to voice their frustration. Their husband's don't put heart into it. Little foreplay. They cannot give but want the wives to suck, bend, do acrobatics. Their husbands just want a penis inside, pump, pump, then cum and sleep. No affection. The wife gets little or no pleasure. No touching. Boring. The wife just lays there sexually frustrated and feeling used

HE: That is boring

SHE: But love making is knowing me. Knowing my body. Pleasuring me as I pleasure you. Pure desire. Pure drive. Honey, this body of mine is all yours to touch and explore; don't just peruse through it

HE: I want to make love to you

SHE: I am yours. Let's make love that is spiritual, emotional, physical and mental. Drown on my lips, pour on my body, flood inside me. I want to open up to you, to wet all over you, to tremble on you. Go deep in me. I am a sensual woman, drive my senses wild.

HE: When you talk like that, you turn me on in a way that I can't explain.

SHE: That's because making love is such a strong connection. Touch me my love. Come here I give you my honey. Let's make love.

And so we have.  And I will never have sex again. 

Half Measures

 

"Tell me we are hopeless and I will give up hope for you and I but until then that hope stirs within my head projecting images of us telling stories that we have yet to tell."
                          -S.L. Gray

Maybe we were just bad timing.  
Maybe we'll meet again in another three years from now.  
What if we were only trying to be bad because being good to each other was hurting us too much?
Just a stagnant reminder of all things that went wrong beforehand.

My entire body is tortured.  Not having you;  not touching you.  
You were the rabbit hole I'd been searching for.
One look at you and all I saw was an entire universe waiting to be discovered.
You were a wonderland and inward I fell.
I wasn't looking for a relationship.
I just wanted a partner to laugh, smile and enjoy life with for a while
Or forever...
I wanted to connect to your soul, have you talk about your complexities
and push each other out of our comfort zones.

You asked me a little while ago when we were discussing doing that thing that you like
"Why no other man has kept me."
The answer is quite simple you see;
I have never kept anyone around who had any interest in knowing who I am.
Never.  Not once.
I have never opened myself up to anyone.
I always just kind of "went along"
What drove me to do that, I can't say
Fear that they'd leave if I was myself?
They did anyway so clearly it wouldn't have mattered
Through weird vibes in the universe that are completely out of my usual realm
and in every fiber of my being that wishes for this to make sense:
nothing about what this is does.
I can't explain what happens to me when you come near me.
It's like all this time I've been this feral, wild beast in a cage and then you were my rescuer.
With one touch I was instantly tamed in spirit and I had no choice in the matter.
Whatever the fuck peace was, being with you was mine.

In other words:  I gave you an unparalleled access to wreck me.
And so you have.

And still I wonder if my relentless ability to hold on is a blessing or a curse.
Hope and ignorance are good drinking buddies on a foggy night when 2 a.m. memories 
of your smile wake me up.
Everything I have ever let go over has claw marks all over it.
I have a soul that longs to be loved for who I really am.
Maybe you were just some random sign from the universe 
to prove to me that miracles really do exist 
and to prove to me that I really do have a heart.

That is now broken.

We are all a little fucked up, so let's just be real with each other.  
You and I have more skeletons in our closets than most and can barely close the doors, 
so let's stop placing blame and pointing fingers.  
Forgiveness.  Put down the sword.  
To expect a soul's mate to be mistake free is dumb.  
You're only breaking your own heart by expecting this.  
I don't want to play that game anymore.  
In saying that it would mean I wanted to play it to begin with.
Frankly, the only answer I feel I can ever utter when it comes to you is "Okay."
I have spent more of the time that I've known you emotional, 
upset and confused than any other time in my life.  
Some external to us, some caused by us.  
If only you'd stop viewing love with your own narcissistic entanglements.  
We all want what we want until the person that wants us expresses pain 
that we've caused them
Finally a light has come on;  
I cannot give a person the blessings they deserve if they are not interested, even if that blessing is me.  

Please understand, there is a Grand Canyon of difference between the girl that likes you and the woman that needs you.

For me, some things are not options:  
I love hard and completely and I laugh even harder.  
I expect a call when I am told that there is an existence of intention to do so giving me hope. 
I was raised to never allow another person to feel like they are nothing 
I will hold you accountable when you do;  
even if it is after the hundredth time I've bit my tongue.
 I've finally had enough.
I devote myself to those who want me because that's who I am.  
I'm not begging you to stay, 

I won't chase what doesn't want me around.
I was never asking you to trust me.
I was only hoping for a chance.
That you decided you couldn't afford to give.
There will be no more, "I'll call" and then don't respond madness.
I am a person worth having, 
So commit to being in my life or just watch me from social media.

Half measures are not allowed.

If you wanted me, you would have found me.   
The only certainty I know is that if knowing that someone is who you should be with the second you hear a syllable of their voice, 
then I'd rather be condemned for loving all the wrong things than loved for hating everything you consider right. 

It's not letting go of the past that is a problem for me.  
It's that the cruel and unusual mind wants to keep its fantasies.  
Even when they're wrong and cruel to our hearts.  
It's that it's a constant struggle to let go of the possibilities that I saw 
in those rose colored kaleidoscopes.

            "It's all right."  He touched her face, gently, with the back of his hand.  "You disappear so completely into your head sometimes," he said.  "I wish I could follow you."
            You do, she wanted to say.  You live in my head all the time.  Instead she said, "What did you want to tell me?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I am dead,
And over me bright April
Shakes out her rain drenched hair
Tho you should lean above me broken hearted
I shall not care.
For I shall have peace
As leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough
And I shall be more silent and cold hearted
Than you are now

-Sara Teasdale

Sheets and Sparks

 

Guys, this past weekend was the closest I have been to crossing off several items on my Christmas list that I have ever been.

Laying underneath the stars in Northern Maine, I started this piece.  An actual blog post is coming, I promise, but right now I would just like to have something that's mine if that's okay with you. And if it's not, then please go where I'm not.

I sent it out into the ether
That I won't stand for mediocre love
I want it to make my knees buckle
Like they do looking into your eyes
I want love to swallow me up 
Like the arms of storm clouds
Keeping me safe
I want love to rinse me clean
To shock me
I spent four years refusing lackluster love
And the world brought me you
A brilliant wildfire
And now there is not a single part of everything you are
That I could live without
Water and air
Yada yada
I want love to be something both as thrilling 
As it is reassuring
I want to curl up with it in front of a fire
I want to lose track of time 
Because there is no hidden agenda in our phones
I want to make a new world in our sheets
One that no one else can see
I want our feet and bare skin brush against each other 
And feel my heart skip a beat
I want to feel at home in your arms
I want the taste of you atop my tongue 
While my wild hair graces your body
I want your bated breath
My arching back in your hands
Feeling every curve 
As gentle sparks set fire to everything that once mattered
I want to feel your love for me coursing through my veins
I want to be this awestruck by you forever
Banana pancakes and Sunday mornings
I want to love you in every way that you've prayed for
As I have you
In the way that I wrote about you 
Before you were here in front of me
I want a love we've been waiting our entire lives for
There are things in life best enjoyed in small doses
But this
My love
Is not one of them

~cynicallovebird

**I don't know if I feel like this is finished, but I'm publishing anyways.

Call Me George

 This man was a shock to my system

What do you mean you want to respect me

How dare you be a considerate lover

And call me when you say you're going to

I don't know what to do with this

Amazing everything

The power of the pen

I wrote about him

Manifested a partner exactly like this

YEARS AGO

It's as if my Mr. Perfect delivery idea 

Has come to fruition in an alternate dimension 

And the idea of a Marvel comic multiverse 

Isn't too much of a stretch

Because he was created in a lab somewhere

I'm certain of it

I want this man to do borderline disrespectful things to me
Like 
Things that would land us in jail in some countries
Unspeakable things
So hard and dirty 
That it was such a thrill to the senses 
That we can't do anything
But lay there for hours after just breathing
So much so that we have no idea what planet we're on
That it'll take days to snap back to reality
And if anyone knew what we did to each other 
They would be so horrified and proud at the same time 
That all they could do is high five us
Things that I can't wait to describe out loud in public
With everyone watching us talking about it 
And thinking we've been together forever
But it's been less than a month 
And rather than talking about our white picket fence 
We're talking about the dungeon in the basement

I also want to let myself turn into the purring kitten

I feel myself become every time he looks at me

And have dome light dinner every Wednesday

And sing karaoke with my person 

Who makes the lyrics make sense

I want to make out in a room filled with people watching

Who think we're adorable together

I want to create content with context

So great that we change hearts and minds

And if I have to spend the rest of my life

Being honest with him

Then chop down my cherry tree

And call me George right now

Jessie Says

 

 I am a vixen
                                 Always
I love control
                              Power
But you
                                   Disarm me
I want to ravage you                    
                          But this new weakness 
                               Foreign
Exhilarating                  
                   Calming
Freeing                 
My hardness
                            Softened

The lioness is now a kitten

I made the decision to show you who I am.  And due to the above, you were such a shock to my system that I was only able to show you who I am when I am with you.

I took my power back and I made the decision to show you who I really am, sprinkled with a little of whom I would love to be.

It was the best.  The preparations made my soul tingle. I had put all of my special toys away, giving up on the idea of ever getting to play again. I don't usually enjoy secrets.  Yours are most definitely the exception, yet I'm certain that we've established this. It's nice to have something that's just ours. I never thought it would be something that I would ever get to have.

The game was Jessie Says.

Jessie says eat the dinner I made you.

Jessie says get in the shower and wash your ass and put on what I handed to you.

I let you choose your implements.

Experience.

Experiment.

Touch.

Taste.

Sound.

To be continued.....

I have to keep it sort of appropriate here.  My grandmother reads my smut.

                                 

27 Orgasms

 I was minding my own business

Out with friends

The way that all spinsters are supposed to support each other on their birthday

Zero interest in dating, sex, or anything to do with a man

Who would turn out to just be another neanderthal 

Papier mâché walls up

It was the only way to be if I was to survive

And then you sat down

And your face turned into the sun when you looked at me

And I knew that the only appropriate thing to do would be to kiss it

"I like your face.  I'd like to see more of it."

Apparently my lack of the ability to effectively flirt actually worked this time

I've never been so allowed to be myself

Permission withheld only by myself of course

I was fine with avoiding

I think you have a magnet inside you 

Or something I can't quite put my finger on

But I don't know if I want to know

It's something that can only be brought to the world by the eclipse

Stop thinking and just do dummy

My papier mâché walls 

Crumbled

You threw all my past lovers into my hot chocolate moat to distract the piranhas' 

Who knew they were conspiring to build a bridge for you out of their bones

Fuckers

Your body is the only one I want to feel ever again

We are so much alike that it scares the shit out of me 

In a place nobody has bothered to scratch

"You do something to me that I can't explain"

The line from my favorite song

It never made sense until now

But I do know

That if my weekends continue to consist of Sunday mornings

And 27 orgasms

You my best friend

Aren't going anywhere

Quieted

He laid his head on her lap with his eyes closed as if she was the most comforting place in the world and her chaotic mind quieted in the way she had only experienced once before in the presence of the grandmother she was still haunted by.
      She noticed he was relaxing under her hands as she continued to feel his anguish from the inner workings of his mind fade away while she held him closer;  letting everything she held in her heart for him ooze out of her burning fingertips.
      She felt him start to become aroused when she moved his hand he held over his heart as if he was trying to hold in everything he was feeling and her finger grazed his nipple; knowing full well that he always loved it she continued to do so.
      Mentally prepared for it to be commanded to a halt as she was convinced that he was over her, she continued as his breath grew quicker and he melted into her like a sundae cone in July.
      "What are you doing to me?"  He groaned under his breath looking up at her with one eye.
      "I'm not sure," she said breathlessly.  For she was genuinely perplexed at this reaction that she had gotten from a man that she never thought she would have her hands on again.


To be continued....

The Game

I am getting ready for the evening.  I’m so excited to see him.  My best friend's big brother makes me feel so safe when he holds me.  But this night is different.  He called me at work and said that he needs to talk to me seriously about something; that he's picking me up for dinner at 5, no ifs, ands or buts about it.  I love it when he takes charge like that.  He always knew what's best for me and I trust him as much as he trusts me.  I'm not like the other girls; he likes that about me.  I love that after 27 years of friendship, my best friend still has no idea we've been doing this since high school.

I hear the knock at my door and my knees quake so hard I can barely make it down the stairs.  I call down to my son to let him in.  They make chit chat as I make my way down, trying my best not to cum and show him how bad I want him again.  The usual talk about life goes on as we make our way to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant we love to call ours.   We both order dirty vodka martinis with pickle brine - the best ever here.  He orders the mac and cheese and I order the steak quesadilla without peppers (we both dislike cooked green peppers with a passion).  My clit throbs through straight faced dirty talk over dinner.  The usual "how's life" and complaints about our dating woes; as if we don't already text each other a hundred times a day.  Since we were kids, we have become experts at the conversations that nobody can tell we're having; looking like best friends hanging out.  We were raised to take care of each other, and so we did.  

We decide to go back to his place to watch Titanic.  It's always been his favorite movie, much to the chagrin of my love of watching things blow up.  Just like daddy taught him, he opens the car door for me and holds my hand to help me out.  He holds my hand as we head to the front door, fumbling with his keys, I notice he's different tonight.  He proceeds to lead me up the stairs to the couch, reaching up my dress and ripping my panties off my round ass, bending me over and pushing them deep inside my pussy; stopping to take a nibble mid-way.  With a stern look he tells me to sit down and make sure I'm centered on the towel already waiting for me.  My panties are already soaked to capacity inside my tight little hole and I just can't help myself as I feel the juices dripping down my leg as the realization hits me that he planned this.  

I'm already trembling in anticipation as he puts my dirty little panties in my mouth to dull the moans he is sure that he's about to invoke from me.  My brain comes to as he helps me with my dress just long enough for him to spin me around and suckle my engorged breasts as he sits me down and then it's gone again.  He takes both of my hands and places them on the back of the couch as if silently instructing me to hold on for dear life; sliding his hand downwards until he reached my clit, still sucking my breast as the other drips.

His grey-blue eyes burn into mine with the same desire I've been dying to give into all day.  Before I know it, every inch of my body is trembling and pulsing and writhing in pleasure as I bite down on my panties trying not to wake daddy up.  He stops suckling and removes my panties from my mouth.  He has a mouthful and he's going to share it; he's such a thoughtful man to know how thirsty he makes me.  Dribbling out of my mouth onto my chin on purpose so he has to lick it off and give it back; my favorite game.

Then suddenly, he stops everything and gets up.  Smiling.  It's time to watch the movie.

TO BE CONTINUED......

Vanquish

 "Just because I am not outwardly asking for anything
doesn't mean that I am not inwardly pleading for your everything"

To be not just that girl
Your company or mere companionship
But to be THE girl in your eyes
Oh for Pete's sake
You are the one that I breathe fire for
One millisecond in my mind
And I'm standing here smiling like I've just learned how to

I want the passion that builds
When two have a deep and mutual craving for each other
The one that leaves me longing
Awake at night reaching for you
As you need me so much too
That you hunt me down in only the place we know to find each other
You captured me with your illusion of desire to be inside my thoughts
A black cloud of carefully placed words
I have found myself falling for you at a terrifying rate
This growing anticipation is requiring a patience that
Leaves me feeling like I'm going to hit the wall any moment now

I want the novel turned Rom-Com
But I don't want the process
I'm not too sure about the apologies and cynicism and the binge drinking
The tears and breakups and friends opinions can see themselves out of the plot line too
Which then begs the question
Why do we have to lose love to learn to appreciate it?
Can't we just love what we have when it's in front of us the first time?
And then we laugh and high five because we did anything but that

Deep within I am repairing
But you've chosen to live inside there and rip to shreds
I've known for awhile, my love
The impact you were going to have on me
Every piece I sutured carefully
I'm convinced I'm going to go mad
Under these deafening alarms I'm trying to ignore
Trying to thread the needle when all I can see or hear is you

I wanted to look into your eyes and fight about it
Screw apologies that I owe to myself
Kiss and make up about it
Ego screams "Never in this lifetime"
You need to be the one to get out of this vortex
Because I am not ever going to be able to stop dropping everything for you
I surrender so easily without a single punch thrown
My bulletproof plan was defective
The exit wounds match my smeared lipstick
Save the sulking for someone who isn't dying to feel important in your arms
I hung my DO NOT DISTURB signal up
But you still managed to find your way in
That's not why we're here
We miss that thing we do
Our dirty games
Ending in swearing that I'll quit you
One touch quiets the exclamation marks again
Maybe next time

Seven Year Itch

I cannot forgive you,
The man who has hurt me. 
But I can forgive the child that was 
      Before you became this monster. 
He was innocent once.
Before we all grew up and started trying to kill each other
     And loved and adventured without fear of a THE END.

You sang hypnotically to my soul
     And I ran because I saw that you were bleeding and needed me.
There was so much red I stopped being able to see straight.
I knew that you were going to be one for the books.
I have fallen and gotten scraped from time to time,
     But you simply gutted me.
In what feels like seconds you had me drowning 
     In your hypnotic confusion.

The words you spoon fed me were holy.
Not like religion as you had hoped, 
     But like Swiss cheese.
I still nailed myself to a cross made out of apologies anyway.
I know I'm nothing to you.
I'm a fucking plagiaristic copy of every other being 
     You spewed invisible promises at.
I'm still finding myself wanting answers to this myth of yours.
You were always more beautiful as a stranger.
Are you sick or just from Hell?

One of these days I will forgive myself for falling in love
     With someone who never existed in the first place.
In minutes I was ripped from my happy place by you.
And somehow thought I'd be fine,
And just grateful that I made it out of your sickness alive.
Bright sides...
     There'd be no art if your rose colored glasses 
          Weren't kaleidoscopes in disguise.

I keep wondering why I'm not telling myself 
     That I'm going to be alright.
I'm reaching,
     But there are not arms for me to find solace in.
There is something about this new found silence that now has me more scared 
     Of being alive than of dying.
I am an escaped hostage who can't find her way home 
     Standing in her own living room.

I was always the brave one.
         The warrior.
If you know what's good for you,
     You'd drop the act and do the right thing.
You should have killed me.
As always it was half-assed 
     And still managed to rip everything I am out of my soul.
I'm still in here somewhere.
What will you do when you find that your discarded pawn 
          Was really the queen you were searching for?
I still find beauty in your "almost".

Mid-Morning Observation

I'm messy when I'm human.
I mistake puddles for oceans and before I know it, 
I'm having a drunken one night stand or changing my hair or rearranging furniture and deep cleaning my closets or starting a new project that I'll never finish in an attempt to disinfect my feelings that are crawling under my skin like the sand worm in Beetlejuice in an effort to get you off of my mind.
I need a new escape plan.

My dog will watch intently while he decides whether or not you are worthy of putting your hands on him.  
This could take minutes or it could take months;  
but he will never rush to his decision.  
Once he has chosen you, 
he'll spend every moment in your presence reminding you of his love and demanding yours.
He is the smartest 9 year old I have ever met. 
I want to be more like him.
I on the other hand,
seem to be a big dumb dog who is stupid excited for a belly rub every time that way you look at me crosses my mind.
Mind shut off, 
not caring how vulnerable I've just made myself.
Foreign, alienated.  
Invigorated, yet settled.

None of the physics-defying devices that I've crafted over and over in my mind have been able to outrun those who have left my life. 
I don't miss most of them.
Chronically allergic to human relationships.
That's what I've always described this "thing" that goes on inside of me as.
I've never lost a limb; 
but I bet that's exactly what losing you would feel like.

Museum

I used to believe in signs.                         Perhaps I still do, but I don't go looking anymore.  

Words I thought were painted vividly are showing themselves to me but they're as muddled as braille.                  Honestly!                                          Constantly wishing and hoping...

If the Gods wish for me to read riddles, I wish that they would please take my permission and not hold back when they hit me with "Hello" square in the face.

There's a strange reassurance in your existence that helps remind me of mine - as if being here and loving you has begun to make me real.

I'll let you into my brain.                 Walk amongst my favorite memories,   safeguarded behind ropes and glass.          I won't let you touch them.                The broken little girl I have let you see isn't the one you're touching when you lay your hands on me.                                The heart you're watching beat behind the gilded sign is too damaged to ever be whole again.                                Remember, you're here on a free day pass.   A view like this isn't going to last long.           I'll show you a glimpse of who I am and shutter the doors because I saw that you weren't paying attention.                    I will recount all of my favorite memories; not that you have any interest in getting to know who I am.                  You are a visitor, only welcome to listen.
It's not like I can't live without you.                I've done that already.          It's just that suddenly being without you feels unnatural.                           I've never been willing to pull the sun out of the sky for anyone.

Memories are meant for visitation not for residency.                                   I never wanted to be loved.                 It's just that being in the same room as your presence hits me in a place within that tells me I could have fallen in love with you with my eyes closed.                            The memory of the sparkle in your eye that you had watching me when you thought I didn't see you has made a home in my mind.         It was as if something inside of you had caught fire.                                   It was as beautiful as it was unsettling.

Carefully pay attention to the signs that read "Do not touch" and "For safety reasons, stay inside of this line".  I wish you had brought a sledgehammer.

So, about last night.....

PICTURE IT:

When you're physically sick because of all of the insanity and there      is one thing in the world that would make it all go away for a      little while because you really suck at stress.  
And that "thing" is actually a person.  
And you've never needed anyone.  
Not ever. 
And for some screwed up reason that has yet to be defined, 
they do something to your soul you've never experienced yet             feel like you've waited for your entire life. 
And you don't understand certain behavior and it all defies logic to      you.
Things have been going on that have caused you to almost give up on this person entirely.
You restarted your dating website profile last week in an effort to patch over the hole their existence left in your mind.
Why not?
They won't commit to you.
Even if you don't want to, 
you're certainly free to do as you damn well please.
And you so don't want to.
You chat a bit.
Get hit on a bit.
Get asked out.
But your heart isn't in it anymore.
You know exactly who and what you want and nothing else is going to         do anymore.  
Patience and time;  
a new-found mantra that strangles you because you have anything but.
Because you're already in a heightened emotional state, 
     everything else is horrible too - including him.
A fact that is recognized after you proceed to lose your shit            entirely.
And you put your foot down that come Hell or high water you're going      to see them and get what you need.
Maybe he really was just as busy as he said he was.
Maybe he really is just the douche bag you think in your head that         he is. 
And yet, you canceled a date that you had set up so you could see him. 
It turns out to be way more than you expected...
          emotionally. 
You two say things to each other that have need to be said. 
You clarify that you aren't an option.
He clarified that you are wrong about what you said.
He also clarified that he is in no rush for anything.
You find yourself no longer feeling that cuddling feels more like            you're a hostage than it does comfort. 
It's actually quite nice and you even allow yourself to relax a bit.
You bond over politics and the debate on TV.
And then you fidget because you realize this and it starts feeling       like a hostage situation.
They tell you that you make them happy just being around them.
You spend the night in each other's arms.
The entire night.
And it's wonderful.
And you freak out inside.
And your brain is stuck in this peaceful, 
     floating space between La La Land and Pure Joy.
Then the vision hits you like a fork in the eyeball:
     What appears to be a tiny, black plastic hair elastic on the         bedroom floor.
After they told you that he hasn't had any other women there.
But it's the same type of elastic that you used in your daughter's        hair - only hers are rainbow shades.
Bullshit is called.
And the walls around your heart fly right back up 
     - filled with holes like Swiss cheese where they were napalmed      by the floaty space you were just in.
And you turn into this fact finding weirdo you don't even recognize.
You start feeling feelings.
A whole shitload of them all at once. 
An Olympic sized swimming pool full of allllll the feelings.
Right out there in the open.
And then you jump out of it spewing the weirdest shit out of your facehole....
it was like an out of body experience.  
You're more grossed out by the sensation of being a human being more      than the fact that you possibly feel things that you shouldn't      be.
He just goes on with no fucks given.
Wants to know "What my problem is".
"It's probably the housekeeper's".
Such is life.
He has no idea where it came from.
Thanks you for saving his cat's lives because they would have eaten      it.
You start spewing things out of your mouth that you have thought but      vowed (until you were angry) that you weren't going to say.
Now that you've calmed down and think back on it, you don't even          know who that chick was.
You get dressed in a hurry with "Maybe you should choke on it, d-        bag" dancing through your deranged head.
You get home.
You cool off a little.
You go "say anything" on him.
As if I haven't done enough of that already.

**Note:  When I'm sorry for doing or saying something, I have this odd tendency to over-admit to being wrong.  Like, I have to explain the root of the problem and my thinking behind it, so they understand where I'm coming from like it makes the apology more real; or something.  I don't even understand it myself, to be totally honest.  For lack of a better term, I get verbal diarrhea.

And then there was this:

There is a small possibility that I am a dickhead.

I was at work.  

Yes, I made it there without harming anything or anyone.  

I was even in a better mood.

I was minding my own business, and my friend E. from work comes over to chat before her shift like she always does.  

We've been talking about "him" since the beginning of things.

She's married.

She helps me understand men a little better and sometimes talks me off of the so-called homicidal ledge.

I tell her about last night. 

Then I tell her about this morning.

Halfway through my description of the elastic, she asks, 

     "Was it black?"

Dumbfounded as to how she could know this, I respond yes.

She smiles her gentle, motherly, "You're an idiot" smile that she         gives so well.

"It very well could have been an elastic that comes on a cord when you buy something that holds it together.  My husband is notorious for leaving them all over the house."

And there you have it;  I think we may have made a few passersby worried by the fit of laughter and stupidity that we melted into.

Little Voice

I find my mind quieted and unable to bring myself to leave.
I fell  as easily as fingertips that trace over my body.
       Teasing.
Bruising my ego with every goose bump and loss of breath.
Leaving me with a longing that I'm not used to.
Don't go.
          Beg me.
                 Please.
Don't brush me off.
            Don't put up a wall.
I promise I'll stop being honest if you would start.
I don't want to stop feeling this way.
I set out to destroy you.
     It was I who am destroyed.
Check.  Mate.
Imploded upon myself.
        Point.  Proven.
A brilliant plan without a plan that backfired.
    You belong to no one.
                  I wasn't supposed to.
Finding that I'm wanting so much that I never knew existed.
           I wasn't supposed to feel.
So much that I can barely breathe just thinking about you.
You weren't supposed to prove me right.
   My heart doesn't belong in my body anymore.  
               Please take it.
We waited so long for each other.
                       And now we're still strangers.

For The Love Of Logic!

I just read something...

it kind of struck a cord.  And then that cord actually turned out to be more like a fuse to an internal mine filled with dynamite.

1.  You're
2.  Really
3.  Over-thinking
4.  This
5.  You
6.  Could
7.  Probably
8.  Just
9.  Point
10.  To
11.  Your
12.  Chest
13.  And
14.   Say
15.  The
16.  Word
17.  Boobs
18.  While
19.  Winking
20.  And
21.  Giving
22.  A
23.  Thumbs
24.  Up
25.  And
26.  He
27.  Will
28.  Be
29.  More
30.  Turned
31.  On
32.  Than
33.  He
34.  Ever
35.  Has
36.  In
37.  His
38.   Life
39.  Because
40.  Men
41.  Treat
42.  The
43.  Most
44.  Recent
45.  Erection
46.  As
47.  The
48.  Best
49.  One
50.  Ever.

There you have it folks.  It was an article titled "50 Words Every Woman Must Know To Drive A Man Wild In The Bedroom".  Given that I have a lot of experience with cock, I would have to say that I used to agree on this.

However once in awhile, someone comes along that changes everything that we know about what we think we want.  Who we are.  What we know or think that we've learned about human behavior.  Someone who makes our nostrils flair and our pupils to dilate just a tad at the sound of their voice.  The world seems to turn to a haze around the world you've been living in and normally could find your way around even on your worst bender.  Now after coming home from spending time with them you're lucky if you can stagger to the bathroom in the middle of the night and remember to put the seat down that your kid left up before sitting.

They have fucked your shit up entirely;  and you know it the second that you could have landed the perfect one nighter and walked away because you'd rather be snuggling on the couch watching the news with Mr. Twilight Zone than with the banging bod from out of town who you know would understand that you don't do sleepovers and leave just like he was never there in the first place and you're not even mad at the Universe for that test.

Meeting

I didn't want to like him.  One octave out of his mouth and I had no choice in the matter.

We talked several times on the phone in between text messages.  I found myself thinking things that everything logical in the world tells me I shouldn't be thinking yet my inner hopeless romantic wants to dance on the edge of the cliff anyways.  And then my not so inner socially awkward moron says them out loud.  This man is a walking library filled with my favorite words.  He hasn't run screaming yet.  I guess that's a plus.

Then came the night we met:

He warned me that he wanted to rub my leg on the drive and asked if I'd let him.  I kept trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing and act like I was a good girl.  And I am, for the most part.  I can behave.  I know how....I mean, I might pull a tendon and pop a blood vessel, but I can do it.

I was a wreck the entire day at work.  I knew exactly what I was going to wear but I changed my shoes 3x and then when it came time to leave changed my mind again.  And of course I made the decision to wear a pinup style halter dress on the most blustery day in November.  I still managed to look cute even with the wind trying to make a fool out of me.  He was already doing a wonderful job of that.

He walked through my door with a look on his face that I couldn't read...anticipation but extremely confident in a way that wasn't cocky about it.  Maybe a little cocky.  Instant goosebumps.  I still get them when I think about that exact moment.

I was not expecting him to drive the kind of car that he does.  A Lincoln.  Given some background information it sort of makes sense, but still not really.  Sturdy, reliable, timeless.  Oddly comforting and sexy.

It is so fortunate for us all that we don't have something I can only describe as a mental screen projector, just showing everything we're thinking right out in the open for all the world (and him) to see.  I had so much going through my head and without fail one look my mind went totally blank.  He'd look away just to start the racing up again.

Conversation with him is weird and wonderful and unsettling and right where I know I want to be, almost like a long lost friend that I've been missing all this time.

We went to a little hole in the wall place that is amazing and had dinner.  We both hate cooked green peppers to my dietary relief.  I've never had a dirty martini with pickle brine, I am now hooked.  I had a steak quesadilla, he had the mac & cheese at my suggestion.

We talked about a lot of random things.  I do recall how I felt.  I do recall being blown away that he was into much of the same things that I am into.  He had seen my pictures that I have on my Fetlife page of the modeling that I do for fun and said that he enjoyed doing that kind of thing himself.  Oh who the fuck am I kidding?  I was so ridiculously gaga and so busy trying not to say something stupid that I barely remember half of it.

Then we left.  The second both of our feet hit the sidewalk he gave me a grin and before I knew it I was back to the building in his embrace losing my sanity and finding it all at the same time in the Holy Grail of dating moments.  Purse to the ground, my arm automatically reached up to seal the deal.  I was gone.

I don't know what I was thinking (frankly I wasn't, at all.) but something was said and before I knew it I didn't have the top of my dress on anymore and he was sucking on my nipples so perfectly that I didn't care that we were in a parking lot.  The way we kissed made me giddy.  I saw his face aglow in a way that you look when you have won something.  Nobody has ever looked at me like this before.

Things continued on and before we knew it his car seat and my dress were soaked and two hours had passed.  It was like we were on the cusp of being two kids who had no idea what they were doing and two porn stars knowing exactly what would bring out the intense waves of heat out of the other.  Taylor Swift's "Wildest Dreams" is one of the songs I remember playing on the radio.  That moment is the only thing I can think of whenever I hear it.

That was not the end of the evening.