My addictions are mine and comfortable. I wish I didn’t have them, but they’re part of me. They’re like my disabilities– I know what to do. My addictions are like soft, frayed blankets, easy to fall into. I’m not proud of them, but I’m used to them. I know how they smell. my addictions Long
How I like to be hit has changed over the years. My spouse and I are coming together with renewed interest and love, after I broke up with my brilliant young lover who I had been spending significant time with. It’s a huge life change to refocus on my spouse as the person I most
“What color is your love for me?” is a question my spouse and I ask each other, through the years. I’ll ask first, and my spouse asks second. Every day the color can change. Post-sex cuddle is a common time I’ll ask. Thinking about quality of orgasms, I realized my synesthesia extends to orgasm synesthesia.
I’ve been reading a lot of ads on Lex, the queer app for dating, friends, and events. Maybe I’m overdoing it and they’re getting in my head too much. The terse, flirty cleverness is tiresome. I’d rather be real. For me, real means direct and vulnerable. But for most people, dating isn’t about real. It’s
I always thought couples therapy was a great idea. Talking about feelings, needs, the future, compromises with another person present who could add insight and might see things we don’t see. Sounds like it would make for a healthier relationship and might help us avoid problems. Therapy on my own has been great for me.
“What could we do, to make it easier for you to pee?” I asked my spouse. It was early morning, and we were talking about health. I was proud of myself. We were on a road trip, and I kept drinking water even though it meant lots of stops to pee. “Long time ago, I
My intro on facebook lately is “processing bonding cues creatively while Rome burns.” It came about when I was looking at something about autism online, months ago. The term “bonding cues” really stood out to me. Yes, the things people do to indicate closeness or distance, privately and in a group–thrilling. I love bonding cues.
You put all your stuff in our shed and moved away. You said you would come back in six months. I txted you as you journeyed north, and I loved you so much; I almost asked you to turn around. When that volunteer palm tree was growing next to the house too long ignored, I
dear Nest, I see what kindness you did. Giving, caring, listening with your body. Being there for someone. Doing love as spiritual practice, steadfastly. I admire how completely you gave. It was rare and gorgeous. Then I admire how you pulled away, when it was too painful to maintain. You tried many ways to adjust.
“What’s a community, if it’s based on lies?” I asked. “A community of convenience. Gentlemen’s agreement. Fuckery–bullshit. A charade. A waste of time.” I was having a lot of feelings about communication issues in the community that I live in. Some friction had occurred, when I said something true but snarky in a meeting. I