Being separated is harder than it used to be. Guess that is just a reality I will have to deal with in exchange for a good sex life with my own husband. It's just too easy to start thinking about my knight and get turned on. Youtube doesn't help. I'm trying to avoid the more suggestive songs. For me, perhaps there isn't a non-suggestive song that Jack White sings. My body has gone Pavlov, only its bell is Jack White. In between my toes have gone ultra-sensitive. I can feel and smell my knight. I hear or see Jack White, and my whole body longs for the touch of my very own husband. I WANT him. I don't want to be in this bed alone. I want all of him. To lick and touch him.
My head turns to mush imagining scenarios. Some as simple as just a long kiss when the opportunity presents itself. Others racier. Is it healthy to be this in love with your husband? When he's out of town, it sure is the hardest button to button.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Take a Mountain, Turn it into a Mole
Argh moving.
My knight has Stuff. Not the kind of stuff you think about. Or the amount of stuff you think about. Stuff with a capital "C". Serious amounts of stuff. So much stuff. Normally I don't really think about it. As character flaws go, its not so bad. I don't usually think about it and purposefully don't notice.
Moving changes things.
It could be said that I have an innate ability to see spatially. I know how to pack things. If falling blocks never sped up, I could be a champion Tetris player. Now aim me at an eight foot wide, nine foot high moving truck. The problem with having to arrange all my knights Stuff, is that I then have to actually look at. Acknowledge it. Notice. At the end of the first day, during which we only got his Stuff loaded, I was not in a good mood. There is a mountain coming home to its range. So much Stuff. Having to actually be fully aware of this could break a person. Luckily, loading does not last for ever, and we were lovey-dovey again before the end of the weekend.
Now, at the other end of the move I must prepare for the imminent arrival. Storage units and hired movers will be involved. Plans for massive, dual climate zoned warehouse/office in our yard. Jokes about moving my knight out of his own house. And garbage. And Goodwill. So much.
Yesterday was the anniversary of our wedding. Six years we are married. And we don't hold hands with the fingers. I love being married to this knight. I love him. I love being home. On the way home from our "date", I made sure he knew that. The excitement of feeling his body convulse--fighting to continue to drive safe while his senses are overloading--are intoxicating. When we made it into the driveway, it was like being teenagers at an empty house. Good thing the occupants were not the kind to hear cars pull up and look out windows. Things were happening everywhere.
We were able to redress and make it into our home with groceries. Then not being able to keep our hands off each other still, we made it to our bedroom. The room where both our children were conceived. The room in which our son was born. Our room. Our home. Together. We are oversexed teenagers and thirty-something parents. And we are finally home together. Who cares about stuff?
My knight has Stuff. Not the kind of stuff you think about. Or the amount of stuff you think about. Stuff with a capital "C". Serious amounts of stuff. So much stuff. Normally I don't really think about it. As character flaws go, its not so bad. I don't usually think about it and purposefully don't notice.
Moving changes things.
It could be said that I have an innate ability to see spatially. I know how to pack things. If falling blocks never sped up, I could be a champion Tetris player. Now aim me at an eight foot wide, nine foot high moving truck. The problem with having to arrange all my knights Stuff, is that I then have to actually look at. Acknowledge it. Notice. At the end of the first day, during which we only got his Stuff loaded, I was not in a good mood. There is a mountain coming home to its range. So much Stuff. Having to actually be fully aware of this could break a person. Luckily, loading does not last for ever, and we were lovey-dovey again before the end of the weekend.
Now, at the other end of the move I must prepare for the imminent arrival. Storage units and hired movers will be involved. Plans for massive, dual climate zoned warehouse/office in our yard. Jokes about moving my knight out of his own house. And garbage. And Goodwill. So much.
Yesterday was the anniversary of our wedding. Six years we are married. And we don't hold hands with the fingers. I love being married to this knight. I love him. I love being home. On the way home from our "date", I made sure he knew that. The excitement of feeling his body convulse--fighting to continue to drive safe while his senses are overloading--are intoxicating. When we made it into the driveway, it was like being teenagers at an empty house. Good thing the occupants were not the kind to hear cars pull up and look out windows. Things were happening everywhere.
We were able to redress and make it into our home with groceries. Then not being able to keep our hands off each other still, we made it to our bedroom. The room where both our children were conceived. The room in which our son was born. Our room. Our home. Together. We are oversexed teenagers and thirty-something parents. And we are finally home together. Who cares about stuff?
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