Ol Reliable

I love my Honda.

It's everything I imagined. When I first saw one, I thought to myself "that's it. That's the one. No matter what anyone says, I will have it. I don't care if I should be sensible. That's what I want, that's what I'll get".

What baby wants, baby gets.

It took time. Research. Thought. Prayer, or whatever you want to call it. But, quietly, with my eye on the prize, and my focus unwavering, I drove off the lot in my dream car. I had to stand my ground. I had to raise a little hell. It's my way. I don't hold back anymore.

Now, when I drive it, I feel good. I feel sexy sometimes. I feel secure. I take care of it, it takes care of me. Sometimes I drive a little fast. Sometimes I take my time, enjoying the ride, enjoying the day. It doesn't fuss. It lets me be. Its what I need, when I need it.

I love you like that too. My love for you is like my love for my car. Except, there isn't any warranty, and now that I think about it, one of my tires has a slow leak. But damn, that car is hot.

Merry Christmas.

Ever since I was little girl, really - as early as I can remember - I wished for someone to love who would love me too. Even though I don't believe I was shown what real love could be like while I was growing up, in my heart I knew what it meant, however incapable I was to put it into words. I would literally wish on every "first star" I saw, I would pray for it at night. "please send me someone to love".

As a teenager, I could more clearly imagine what I wanted him to be like. He would be smart, someone I could talk to about anything going on, or come to for advice. He would be funny, someone to appreciate my quirkiness too. He would be strong enough to protect me and soft enough to hold me. He would never hurt me.

As a woman, I had to go through alot before I was ready to receive that someone I longed for for a lifetime. Maybe it was self imposed, I don't know. But finally.....you've come. The moment I saw you, I knew. If it had to be cheesy, I would say the clouds opened up and the sun shone down on your face. It was like arrows pointing down on you from every direction. But really, it was the slightest tug in my chest, the breath I missed for a second when I first looked in your eyes.

I don't care if you think that compared to what I had before, that of course you look like a price. Because to me, it's like I never really lived before I met you. Every second of my life was in preparation to meeting you. Every bit of goodness of you and every fault you have are the gifts I wished for. I wish now that I can hold on tight to it forever.

I love you always.

Ugly truths

I re-wrote this twice. I hope you didn't read the previous version.

"Why are the things that HE used to make you do, that traumatized you - are now things that turn you on?"

I knocked that one around in my head a long time. Here are some scenarios I ended up with.


When I met him, I felt sexually confident. Prior to that, I was desirable and I knew it, humbly. I had done some things, and I think with the right person, I would have grown even more, I would have matured in a healthy and acceptable way. But somehow during that time with him I shrank. He made me feel that I wasn't worth anything. And anything I did or had a desire to do was wrong.

I didn't respect him. I feared and loathed him along with loving him in a strange way. I felt disgusted with his dirty little secrets and desires. I felt like something was wrong with him. And for me to do the things he wanted to do would put me in the same category as him.

I did have secret fantasies. I fantasized about having sex out in the open. Maybe with the curtains open. But I couldn't tell him that. Because anything I did or said would be brought up later against me. I couldn't afford to give him any more ammunition. I held on tight to my good girl image. It gave me a little "something" to hold over him, my little holier than thou attitude. It was something he couldn't take away from me. Also it perpetuated our sick cycles. I was good, he was bad. Then later, I was wrong, he was right. In my sick mind, I also feared that the only reason he hadn't already killed me was because I was "so good". If he saw that I was any less than that, I suspect it would have been worse. I know, I still believe it had something to do with me. That somehow it was my fault.

I lost myself. For a long time. I took a good year to find myself. To allow myself to think and feel my own thoughts and emotions was exhilirating.

I tried to be around other men. I knew that I held some sort of chemistry for some, but I couldn't get it right. I still felt the need to be prudish and hold back.

When I met you, I felt overwhelmed with a desire I felt for no one else. I mean, yes, I could see a man and think "wow he is so hot" or even have some sort of vision of having sex with them but it all felt like some distant "thing" that was not real. First, I heard your voice and I wish I could explain to you how I felt. What you said was simple enough, but your tone, the way you laughed a little when you spoke....I felt there was dimension to you. I felt there was more to know. To be quite honest, I rarely cared about getting to know any other man that way. When I saw you, I knew. I knew I had to experience as much as possible about you. Do you see what I see, within yourself?

In the beginning, I had some major reservations about actually giving in to my desire of having sex with you. I felt totally inexperienced (despite all my teenage experience - my entire adult experience to that point was completely dysfunctional). You made me feel like it was ok to want things, to indulge in another person mutually. It took me a while to get over my feelings of no self worth, especially in the sex department. I hoped you couldn't see the inside of me. The sad, sick, battered parts. I felt if you did, you would agree with him. I do realize how sad that sounds.

You were so patient with me. Willing to overlook my anxieties and insecurities. For a long time, I couldn't tell if by doing that, you really cared, or if you were just passing the time with me.

What's happening now is that I respect you. And because I respect you, and you are not judging me or belittling me, I must actually be "ok". I know that I am still deriving self worth through the eyes of someone else. It's something I hope I can get over eventually. I'm lucky I have you. Whether you wanted the role/responsibilty or not, in a way, you're my hero. You're helping me heal. No wonder I love you so much.

So why are those things turn on's now? Because you let me be myself without fear. Everything looks pretty good when you have nothing to fear, when you see the promise of a loving patient heart in someone else.

This is how you remind me

Last night, I got bored with tv and like I sometimes do, I rolled over and started drifting off to sleep. Instead of our usual spanks on the butt and "hoe down" routine, I felt you touch my back, caress my hips...I was half asleep, so I just kinda rolled back over, not sure of what you were wanting me to do. Your voice was low, deep, close to my ear, "roll back over to where you were." I don't care how silly you might think it sounds, but your voice is sexy. Many times, I will play it back in my mind over and over, just for the pleasure of hearing the tone of it.

I rolled back over. You ran your hands over my body. Even over the curves that are the very least favorite part of me. But your touch carried me away to where I didn't care about anything. You pulled me close and we were perfect spoons, your body cradling mine like puzzle pieces. My head ended up in the crook of your arm. Your face nuzzling in my hair....The moment was so tender....

When you make love to me like that, its like you are doing it because I belong to you. Like my heart and body are yours for the taking, but not like you would ever do so without really meaning it. Then this morning, as we both walked out to our cars to leave for work, you walked all the way over to me to surprise me with a kiss. I don't know how I can love you more. Just when I think there's no more room in my heart for loving you, you do something like that and show me. You show me that beyond the security of sleeping next to you, of coming home to you every day, of kissing your lips hello and kissing your lips goodbye, that there lies between us something there are no words for....that something that makes me cry when I write about us, that makes my heart fly with happiness, so high I may never come down.

You left tonight, to be with your little boy who feels like crap, who may or may not be scared, but who will surely feel better knowing dad is there. And you remind me again, how you are the best man I have ever known and will ever love in my entire life.

Glimpses

I had a dream that we were old, sitting behind our house, looking out at the wildflowers and grass. "Honey, can I get you anything?" I asked. You didn't answer, but put your warm, wrinkled, still softer than mine hand on mine. I noticed there weren't any sparks or desire like we had in the beginning. There was more of a quiet peacefulness and comfort between us. For a second, I let my mind wander and I imagined that I would look over and you'd be gone and I got scared. But I turned, and you were still there, holding my hand.

You saw me looking at you and you said, "remember when I got my first wrinkle?" I looked at your face, with all the little lines and crevices that come with age.....I did, I did remember. "You still love me?" you asked.

I didn't answer, just leaned over and kissed your wrinkled face.

I woke up and my eyes welled up.

How "you" make "me".

Today was a busy day. I kept myself busy, cleaning out closets, drawers, doing endless loads of laundry, cleaning out the fridge, taking out bags of trash. In between, I listened to music, or just listened to my own scattered and fragmented thoughts. I ran across some old photographs from a few years ago. It was funny to see my old yukky hairdos and different phases of weight. Each time, I would hold one up to my sister and say "oh, how do I look different in this one?" Mostly she said I actually looked OLDER back then. I looked WEIRD. I looked STRESSED or ANGRY.

Of course I warranted it to the fact that I am now divorced and have left some of the most traumatic moments of my life in the past. But I have to tell you, that you are changing me, too.

Oh god, sometimes I tire of myself. Sometimes I try to put myself in your shoes, and try to imagine what it is like to have someone always in your face, telling you they love you, praising all your virtues. "I love you, I love you, you're the best....blah blah blah." What can I say. I'm a pain. But since this little blog is about me and you, and no matter that you are there and I am here, and we are probably, if we are to be honest, enjoying a little space, away from each other ---I just wanted to post a little something about what you do for me.

It's not in the way we make love. It's not in the things you say or don't say. It's the very fact that you exist. It's the fact that the day you were born and I was just a year and 11 months old, in you was born someone who would someday take my breath away, someone who would touch my soul and complete the puzzle of me. Everything you hate about yourself, everything that gives you confidence, everything you've done and have yet to do.....you're the man I love without knowing anything and everything all at the same time.

Its the way you come up behind me and hug me tight, without me having to vie for your attention. Its the way you hold my hand and run your fingertips underneath my fingernails. Its in the way that when you are holding me from behind and your bury your face in my hair and kiss my back. Its the way your hand wraps around my shoulder when you have your arm around me. Its the way you look when I walk in and you are busy working away on whatever. Its in the way you hold your fist underneath your chin when you sleep, making you look like you are deep in thought with your eyes closed.

I know alot about book stuff, facts, scholarly things. But in your shadow, I feel like a girl again. I can't pick apart our relationship and say "this means this, and that means that". But I hope that true love is the name for how I feel like crying when I write this and how I can feel happy and fulfilled too.

Kissing you

Our second date was on a Wednesday. Nick called me that Tuesday, to ask if I wanted to do something and I was ecstatic. He said "I've been thinking and thinking of what we can do and I can't think of anything." This simple statement was enough to melt my heart and have me walking on air the rest of the day. He was "thinking and thinking". Even now, it makes me smile. I made a joke about how we could go to church and he goes ".....are you serious?". LOL

I guess we finally decided that we would just have dinner. That day was really hectic for me. A local TV news station was coming over to interview my kids because there was a predator in the neighborhood trying to pick up young girls and long story short, they came over to talk to my kids. I had to race them home, do the interview, get the sitter over, pick up pizza for them and race my ass over to his side of town to have dinner at Chili's. Nick had asked "Sonic or Chili's?" I said "...I don't know...I guess Chili's?". He said "Sonic it is." I said "Well, I'll be at Chili's when you get done at Sonic". This makes me laugh now because I realize he was serious. He loves Sonic.

I didn't have time to do my hair so it was a wavy mess. Since the contact debacle on date #1, I now had to wear my dorky glasses. When I got there and we sat down, I said, "wow, you look really different now that I can see out of both eyes." (Kidding, of course). I said, "Aren't you going to say anything about my hair?" He said "It looks nice". I said "No, it doesn't". I had about 5 glasses of water and must have got up about 4 times to pee. I told him I was leaving my purse at the table so he couldn't leave. He's like "good luck with that". Once, when I was coming around the corner back to the table, he acted like I had just busted him trying to leave. When we had finished eating and the waiter asked us about 20 times if we needed anything else, we finally walked slowly out to the parking lot. He asked if I wanted to sit in his truck with him and talk. I think we sat in there for an hour, just talking. I think it was mostly me talking about everything because sometimes I get hyper and jump from topic to topic. I made a crack about being ADD and several months later he told me he had ADD and I felt like an A-S-S. We talked about "bad boy types" and "bad girl types" and about how long we thought that people in general should date before they had sex. I said 9-11 dates would be good and he said that could be like 3 months!

The whole time we sat in his truck I was waiting for him to kiss me somehow, or to hold my hand. We still hadn't touched. Finally, I said, "I guess I better go....". We went from his truck to my Jeep and stood outside and talked some more, each of us waiting for the inevitable kiss. If he thought I would kiss him first, he was crazy. On the other hand I was dying to feel his lip with mine. While I was leaning against the Jeep, trying to buy more time, he said "You look like a librarian." I was insulted. He said "A hot librarian." I was still insulted. LOL. A couple of weeks ago he said he had a thing for girls in glasses. I believe him now.

We were quiet for a minute and he said "Do you feel the tension?" I said "yeah, yeah I do." He goes "how much longer do I have?" I said "5...4...3...2..." He said "Wait that's too fast!" But he slowly leaned in and gave me the kiss to end all kisses. His mouth was warm and soft, not too wet, not too dry....he took his time, first kissing only my lips, then I opened mine to let his tongue in....I gently leaned in to feel his body while we kissed. When we finally came up for air, my head was reeling. I was wondering how I was going to drive home. I can't even tell you what we talked about after that. We kissed again. But his sweet hesitation with me meant more to me than the actual kiss. After the first two kisses, when we were just standing there being quiet, he leaned over and kissed my forehead. In my heart, I hoped that he had never kissed another girl on the forehead before me. I know I am a jealous freak. As I got home he texted me, "I apologize for being so forward". I was like "oh please".

The next day he texted me all day, flirtatious messages, making my stomach clench with desire for more of him. He tried to get me to come over and bring some homemade tortillas. I couldn't, I had soccer practice and laughed at his persistence. He said "Can you blame me for wanting to taste those soft lips again".

Remembering this makes my nose tingle with little tears in my eyes. I walked away from that night feeling like I would never kiss another man again. I know he was probably just thinking about getting me in bed. I don't care.

Now a days we mostly have chaste kisses, kisses goodbye or hello. The other night, he gave me a full on open mouth kiss and I thought I would melt into a puddle. Those kisses are only every once in a while but when we do share them it's as if the earth stops moving for me. It's like I can feel forever in his mouth.