It's Christmas! Some really terrible things have happened to my family and property back home this weekend, but I have my love, my child, and I do have some really fantastic friends and family even if I never do get to see them. So I am trying to be happy, to count my blessings. The other post can sit and wait a while.
While we were snuggled together grieving over one of the terrible events, this conversation transpired between my husband and I while our child was busy trying to separate us.
"This little person seems to think we're two people or something," I observed.
"Yeah, funny, that."
"You are part of me, aren't you?"
"A part that likes to hurt me?"
"Yeah," he nodded, "are you a part of me that likes to be hurt?"
"Mmhmm," I buried my face into his shirt.
"Thought so," he said smugly, squeezing me tightly against himself.
That exchange has been stewing in my head all day. It's true, we're those people, the ones that make people roll their eyes and fake-gag, the ones that don't go anywhere without each other, the ones that actually get irritated when couples events are divided into "girls decorate ornaments, guys play cards." Screw that, I want to do stuff with this man, not separately from him. Besides, those events are so diluted for general consumption that they're practically meaningless, surely. My man isn't interested in cards for the sake of cards, I know.
So, if you're in one of this beautifully symbiotic relationships with your other half, and if, like me, you sometimes come to question the validity of your desires, stop it.
|These guys? No angst. None.|
If you're in a dedicated relationship with a person, you're part of each other. You scratch each others' itches because that's what the hand does for the back, or the head, or the balls.
Angst over "does s/he" or "should I" has no place in this sort of relationship. I have absolutely no qualms asking my husband to literally scratch a part of my back I can't reach. He even lets me grab his arm by the elbow and stick his hand wherever I want it to scratch! That right there is fabulous, you guys should try it. Seriously.
So then why do I often try to work myself into knots about my sexual desires? He's not working himself into knots. He just does what he does. The fact that I'm submissive shouldn't come into play as a bother here - he has no qualms, he's not concerned about anything, so neither should I be. He's not complaining because his figurative back itches, he just scratches it.
I'm going to stop it.
I'm going to simply be thankful for the blessing of deliciously kinky sex, and all the itches that get scratched between us.