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Archive for the ‘Sex’ Category

I Was Sick

Ugh, like the new kid at school, I caught a cold and was a snuffly, cranky mess for the week.

Colds run a predictable pattern with me:  days of sore throat followed by hacky cough.  Next is a crescendo of runny nose, sneezing and general germy  demeanor that halts people in their track from approaching me.  The cold fades with sneezing, some strong coughing and snot.  Lots of snot.

I’m cranky when I have a cold.  Leave me the f*#k alone.  The Hunter walks on egg shells because his natural inclination is to hover and cuddle and nurse.  I hate that.  Seriously, it could be anyone trying to do that and I’ll bite their head off.  Just hand me a Coke, some DayQuil or NightQuil depending on the time of day, a box of tissues and the remote.  Retreat.  By the end I’ll want food, but otherwise, do not acknowledge my existence.  Thank you.

The Hunter thought he was sexy and adorable telling me he can’t wait to get me in the sack and ravage me.  My nose is red and runny, I’m coughing/sneezing/blowing my nose. I’m exhausted from a week of commuting 2 hours round trip and a long day.   Really?  Sex is the last thing on my mind.  Snuggling is not an option.  Read my above statements.  Ugh.  Seriously?  I just want sleep, lots of sleep, and the remote.

I know I sound ungrateful, however, I think sick folks (meaning not seriously ill, just minor maladies) fall into two categories:  1) ignore me and 2) nurse me back to health.  I am the former and the Hunter is the latter.  I guess part of my problem is that I want to be ignored because my history involved having people that always wanted something from me, even when I was sick.  “What are you making for dinner?”  “Where is ____?”  “Can you take me here, there or yonder?”  “How long are you going to sit on the couch?”  Yeah, being sick in my previous life was not an option.

Now I revel in the glory that if I want to sit my ass on the couch all weekend to read books and watch movies, I can.  Add in a rainy day and you’ll lucky if I say four words.

Today I’m feeling human.  I’m about to jump in the shower and clean all my cold germs off me.  It’s a catch up day of paperwork for Maggie & Co plus my personal bills and what not.  It’s not sexy day.  I’m not feeling it.  I feel lucky to feel simply human right now.  Now, how do I reject him without hurting his feelings?  I have no idea, but I better think of something because he’ll be home in a few hours….

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Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

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My Beach Read

My beach read for my recent trip was “The Naked Truth” by Leslie Morgan.  That damn bitch wrote my book.  Actually she wrote the Hollywood version of my book.

She’s doing the newly divorced 50ish woman re-discovering her sexuality with a flair that only privileged white women can do.  That’s my snarky side peeking out.

Leslie is a beautiful, fit, successful writer with two homes.  That hussy was living the dream — my dream — in her memoir.  OK, enough of my green-eyed monster.  Give me a minute and let me tuck my monster away….

OK, I’m back.  Leslie was right on point.  Her pain, her honesty, her humor but mostly her blinding candor made this book a great read for me.  It reminds me that women in our 50’s with an empty (or nearly empty) nest really need to spend some time discovering and uncovering ourselves (pun intended).

No spoilers.  If you have a chance to grab the book, you’ll spend some time with someone who automatically feels like a friend.  Here are some of my favorite quotes – no spoilers, I promise.

“I was crazy about men now the way Lyon had loved each of his high school hookups.  Including me.  Each of the men in my life was a chip of self-worth, helping me rebuild myself”

“Ever ask yourself what are you really looking for, honey?  Sometimes it seems like you’re willing to pay an awfully steep price in order to feel loved.  That’s what you always say about your first marriage — that the definition of an abuse victim is someone who pays too high a ransom in exchange for love.”    This one hit home for me.

Sara (this is her therapist) had warned me to be careful.  She cautioned that the first serious relationship following a divorce can be more intense than the marriage itself, because after a divorce, you are raw and broken and filled with hope that the next time, you’re going to find lasting love to make up for the love you lost.”  Damn, did that ring true.

“You know it sounds to me like Jake (her boyfriend) is your burn ointment.  Your sexual healing after years of Marty’s (her Ex) sabotage.  But that doesn’t mean he’s your soul mate.  Each man you date now is a building block for your self-esteem.  Not the foundation.  Don’t confuse the two.”  Damn, I need her therapist.  That woman is worth her weight in gold.

“Withholding emotion is a form of manipulation.”  Yeah, I may be guilty of this…

“Part of this journey was, obviously, that I had to learn and re-learn that the way I allowed men to treat me was up to me, and only me. I had to thread a particularly challenging needle:  to find validation from men in my life without completely giving myself over to them.”  Yep, still working on that.

“You grew up in an alcoholic home.  Fundamentally, this means that the people who loved you, who were supposed to take care of you, didn’t protect you.  It’s why you are so independent, and yet paradoxically susceptible to abuse and manipulation by those closest to you.”   This was a biggie for me.  My family wasn’t necessarily an alcoholic home, but it was dysfunctional.  Something to ponder further.

Anyway, buy Leslie’s book.  We divorced nymphomaniacs need to stick together.

Naked Truth

He Said It First

He said it first.  The Hunter called me yesterday and said we needed to talk.  I agreed.  He doesn’t want to move when the time comes.  We agreed our relationship has run its course, but we don’t want to be angry or bitter.  We still care about each other.

He asked that we hold all of this for a face-to-face conversation, but he’s relieved that we are both approaching this like adults.  Me too.

We had a brief chat before I had to head out to some appointments.  He had two concerns:

  1. Was there someone else in my life?  Of course the answer is an emphatic No. 
  2. He needs time to get his shit together so he can figure out his living situation.  We talked about the timing and he was relieved that he had almost six months.

It was a low-key, friendly conversation.  I had to leave because I had a busy afternoon out and about, so I got home late.  We didn’t have much of a chance to talk last night.

This morning we fucked and went to breakfast.  Funny, right?  OK, OK, I know the sex is suppose to stop after a relationship is ending, but right now he’s not using it to keep me around.  He just wants to fuck.  Afterwards he sighed and said, “How can we get along so well but don’t want to be together?”  We both chuckled.  We both agreed that living apart would be best and that we would see where things would go with the relationship, but our friendship would continue.

When we first moved in together, we had agreed that we were adults and we would live together until we didn’t want to.  That time has come.  Now it will be interesting to see how things morph and shift during the next six months.  Will he be able to stand on his own two feet?  I hope so, because I will be withdrawing my safety net during this time.

This is just one more piece of my life that is getting sorted out as it should.  It’s a no stress, low drama ending to a relationship that has run its course.  My stars are aligning.  This is my time.  My second chance — now let me take full advantage of it and not blow it!

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Photo by Harli Marten on Unsplash

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