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 �what is Man? a miserable little pile of secrets.� - andr� malraux "i desire to live in peace and to continue the life i have begun under the motto, to live well you must live unseen." - rene descartes note random entry image credit design by : ilazarn ikmal powered by : diaryland |
rollercoaster.
2012-12-18 @ 8:44 a.m.
to elaborate a little more. yesterday, in a text, from me:
this only after wasting the entire day crying while laying in the dark in bed with boycat. he called me at the end of his day and said immediately, "[tinea]. everything is going to be alright. it is. it really is. [boycat] is not going to die. they didn't even tell you anything remotely like that when we were there! and i can say that because i was sitting right there. so please. stop worrying about that." i conceded this, because the vet had in fact called back yesterday afternoon and said that his blood tests all came back completely fine, and even i could admit that he was looking and acting a lot better. he also said that even though he acts like a tough guy concerning them, he only acts that way because of his traumatizing childhood experiences with pets. his mom used to kill his pets, give them away, let them run away, whatever. she never cared. he said he loves boycat and would do anything for him, and especially for me, because he knows he's like my child. he would put the same money toward boycat's medical expenses as he would little A's. for me. so of course by now i'm totally crying, again, and he says, "and [tinea], i could never hate you. not ever. you've been in my heart and in my mind since i was 17 years old." and then he went on to console me and tell me that i'm not a failure at life, or any of the other stuff i was going on about. that he's here for me, no matter what i choose to do, or where my success turns out to be. you see, my biggest source of anxiety (well, one of them) is that i feel such an imbalance of responsibility? i guess, because he works so hard at work every day, like physically killing himself, and i make like less than half of what i used to make teaching, but my business and my brand are my dream so he wants me to pursue them. i feel that he works disproportionately harder than i do, and that i make his life more difficult. though he insisted upon trying to assuage these fears, i still do feel that way, feel intense guilt. but to hear it from him that i should not at least makes it feel a little bit better. because he says, you have so many opportunities. if this doesn't work out, you have other avenues that you're able to pursue. regardless of whether you're making a lot of money or not, i'll still have to kill myself at work because i fucked up my life and this is all i can do. i have no other skills. if it's not this company, it's the next. i never really thought about that. at the end he says, you still have one leg up on me. at least you do a really good job of looking like nothing is wrong when you're dying inside. i'm a really bad faker. he's right about that. he's terrible at hiding his emotions. although i don't know if skill in hiding them is an advantage. it just means, to me anyway, that it takes longer for anyone to find out, to be able to help you. so, he came home and we ordered chinese food so i wouldn't have to cook and so we'd have plenty of time to hang out. we put up the tree, put on the ornaments, then sat down at the table together and made our own ornaments. listening to christmas music, you know the whole thing. after that it was time for little A to go to bed, and boy is like wow. can't wait for you to suck my dick later. and i'm like, ehhhh. like i really wasn't in the mood. i wish i could better explain it, because i was debating with myself whether i wanted to have any kind of sex at all. we hadn't had sex in like, 2 weeks almost? i guess? because he's either been so dead from work that he's fallen asleep on me, or i've tried to stay awake for him and passed out. so i really wanted sex, but i wasn't in the mood, if that makes any sense. i guess that's one of the horrible parts of depression. losing interest in things that were once pleasurable. my desire and interest were there, but my motivation was not. so i gave him a sideways look about it, and he could tell i was on the fence, and he says, "it'll make you feel better," and i was like ... you know what? it probably will. but the important part is that he never pressures me, and never makes me feel guilty when i'm not in the mood. i know that's a huge problem for some people, in some relationships. and it's just another thing that i love about him, that i'm never pressured, that it's never pushed, that sex isn't a weapon or bargaining chip. it just is ... what it's supposed to be. so indeed we went upstairs after i enjoyed some oreos, and he says, take your shirt off so i can look at you. and i'm super soft and moisturized from my shower earlier, and after a nice blowjob he kisses me all over and asks what i want. what do i want? as my little arms snake around his body, "i want you on top. i want to be all wrapped up." and he was, and i was. it was so excellent. my lips, covered in kisses, my nose, pressed into his neck, my hands, touching everything, but too often touching his hands, which are still incredibly sore from the tattoos two weekends ago. i kept grabbing him inadvertently, and at one point i squeezed so hard i thought he was going to cry, at which point he made me get on top so i could grab onto the headboard instead. i'd say the only other not cool part of tattoos (other than the initial pain and bleeding and whatnot) is having to think so much while having sex. like, i can't divide my attention between the present sexy moment and trying to remember which part of him is fresh and sore. i'm like, okay, it's on my right. your right? how far up the arm/hand/whatever? you know. distracting! but oh well. the price of being a fucking hipster i guess. so anyway, it was just fantastic. the bed was soaked until this morning. i went pretty crazy but he knows just what to do. and it did make me feel better. so, everything is going to be alright. hopefully my chemicals will stay under control long enough for me to fully believe that. the overwhelming need for a nap just came over me. there's so much i need to do. |