Sex is good for me, so good, to move toward pleasure and connection. It’s healed me, taught me about trust, given me reasons to live. Thank you to my sweet spouse for giving me so much sexual joy, these past many years. Covid is a stressor, and I’m learning about covid love.
steam valves
Is covid destroying relationships? Doesn’t seem fair when people need things and can’t get them.
I have a friend who got married to this guy about five years ago, and they have their struggles, but certain things were in place to keep the relationship ok. Like steam valves–things they could do to release built up relationship-tension, ways to get space and take a break.
Don’t usually plan for a pandemic. When people can no longer fill-in-the-blank, what to do? The relationship needs to adjust. It was built on certain premises or assumptions. The rules were a certain way.
preference / need
I knew I like touching all kinds of people in multiple ways, but I didn’t know I needed it. Thought it was just a preference. My spouse does so much for me. In a way it’s an honor, but in another way, it’s work.
When he’s the only person I’m turning to with my physical needs, there’s a lot to do. I want more hugs.
We’ll be in the car, and he’ll be driving us somewhere. I like realizing I’m holding his hand. Didn’t mean to hold his hand–my hand did it without me needing to direct it.
I’m very comfortable with him. I didn’t know comfortable and excited could go together so well–thought I could only have one or the other.
fantasy life
There’s nourishment from my fantasy life, such as friend I cuddle with in my mind every day. I hold her and might place a stray kiss on the back of her head, as we spoon, with me as the big spoon. My lips imagine the texture of her hair. I feel weepy to write that. Will I ever learn that texture in “real life?”
I’m putting that in quotes because my inner life is my real life. My inner world is where I live, more often than not.
Another friend I long for more sexually explicitly, some days more than others. He whispers things to me, in my imagination, and I respond. He asks me questions. I tell the truth to him.
It can help me, to have these fantasies. There are many types of comfort in this world, and I need so many. I get harmed–even being careful, there’s too much pain.
Some comforts I like are music, dreams, art, humor. A good conversation, over email, letter, polo, txt, or in person. Delicious foods, a nice texture on my hands, like petting a kind animal. Feeling clean from a shower. The warmth of soaking in a hot springs. Nature time, sunrise, plant life, touching rocks.
maybe
Maybe my friend will break up with her husband. She already could have, and I just haven’t heard yet. So many people I love, it’s hard to keep track of all the relationships. There’s my spouse and five other people I talk to every day, who I consider my temporary family.
- the brilliant one elsewhere who I want to spoon
- the man who asks me questions in my imagination
- the vibrant ladyfriend who is such a good mom to her young children
- the disabled trans young person who feels good to check in with and encourage
- the bestie-like beautiful local who I tell everything and dream of a future with
The rest of the people can drift by. I forget about someone for a minute. Or we talk every day, then disengage for a while, then reconnect. All these different ways of relating and choices to make. Where to put my energy–who to direct ideas and words to.
not dating
I don’t date–there are so many people in my life already. No need to seek that out. I tend to fall in love with friends.
Someone I met on okcupid a really long time ago, I thought she liked me. We talked a ton over email, then met for frozen yogurt.
She said she liked me! Maybe something happened, an emergency, and I fell of her priority list. Or she uncovered a fatal flaw of mine, or decided to return to that ex and didn’t need me.
What’s real? I have all sorts of needs. Everyone I love, I love in a way special for them; it feels really different.
The diversity is thrilling, but it’s terrifying also. Losing someone is losing a world. There’s no way to get that specific feeling but from that specific person.
priorities
Covid is a stressor, like poverty, disability, racism, a mean boss, an abusive relative, overwhelming deadlines, trauma response, too many weeds in the yard, mean neighbors.
I need to budget for the stressors, adjust plans, self-care and other-care, stay connected. I need to slow down if possible, and give myself time to rest. Look at what we’re doing, and is that what we want to do?
Covid can push us apart, but also bring us together. I could love or hate the life I’m living right now, and please pardon me, that I love it. That’s the kind of hippie I am, and the kind of witch I am. I’m learning, which is the most important part.
4 replies on “what covid does to love”
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