holding on to what you know, letting go of what you know is there

OK, dipped into the familiar dirt of what I know is rich. Ty came over last night.Words seem elusive and constrained to the two of us.It's like you are with someone you have known for all the ages and at the same time they are completely an unknown to you. I look at him and try to wrap my head around the fact that we have been together almost 10 years and I don't know who he is yet he is all I know at this time.What a contradiction. He is a vague memory of better days. He looks at me and through me like I am not there.It is so uncomfortable. yet, that didn't stop me from getting all that I could from his body.

I was hoping that some kind of magic would be stirred up, the sex would be better than it had been in it's routine of marriage. I was hoping that the distance of time between us would create an unquenchable thirst for each others skin. It didn't. Sex was predictable, there. It wasn't anything I was hoping to be except sex. In the middle of the night I reached over to hold him and try to feel some warmth and love. he sleeps deep and isn't ever aware that I am awake thinking of him. trying to infuse him with my love like I have the power to cast a spell. I don't apparently. But there was a day long time ago when I was a magic spell to him. A cascading downpour of mystery that unfolded unto him. Where does all that magic go? it's like starting a bonfire and being dazzeled in the monsterous flames, not noticing that they are subdueing, getting smaller. Still providing heat yet not so intense as before.....until it just becomes a big ass chore to even maintain the embers. You keep moving closer to the fire yet feeling colder with each scoot forward of your lawn chair. You even try to change your position of the chair in a different place around the fire and there is still no relief. Not only are you cold, you know it's going to get colder. the only good thing embers are for is for melting marshmellows and watching the orange hues dance through the dead wood. That's what last night felt like. I felt like I was kicking around the embers, poking the hell out of them for a last hurrah of warmth, that's all it was.

I woke him up to get what I could from a nocturnal firmness he was holding hostage from me. He obliged me with a quickie yet it seemed like it was a chore to him. A token, a consolation prize. A crumb to the hungry girl begging for her food. Sex seems like work for Ty. I have never dealt with this animal before. I am not used to a man who don't pig out at the all you can eat buffet of bootie. It is very difficult for me to understand.

Anyway, he awoke in the AM and started to gather some of his misc belongings, with his familiar bitching throughout the task. It's hard to miss him when he is like that. he talks to himself and bitches about the most mundane and inoculous things. I couldn't wait for him to leave.



Then he walked out the door and I thought he was leaving, all those shitty "little girl" feeling came rushing in and I felt unloved, abandoned. I hate feeling that way, I am a grown woman for Christ's sake. He came back in and gave me that "one night stand" thank you, with a vague reference to calling me later. I hate that too.



I am considering being a slut. I used to be one. I had a riot. I didn't need all that mushy love stuff at the time I just needed validity that I was sexy and I loved sex and had fun. I never cried during those years. I didn't feel bad. I just used men a my personal playground and enjoyed the ride.I am sure they were just as happy. maybe it's time to consider the old way, this grown up responsible way of conducting oneself with expected dignity.....sucks.