sex

#26 The Best Parts of Breaking Up 12/22/14

Being almost 2 months out from my last breakup, I have begun to enjoy the shifts of my mind and heart. I’m no longer sad, I have the benefit of distance without emotionality and can see the flaws and all the ways my ex wasn’t capable of meeting me where I was. Once you see that, you have reached a level of acceptance that simply makes you grateful you dodged a bullet.

I’ve been back on the dating websites which will be a completely separate but most entertaining post but getting back in the game can be fun as well. There is the beginning of the transition where you get your life back, where you stop having to make accommodations that eventually made you feel resentful, now you do for you, just for you and it feels good. You go back, to those things that you perhaps let go in the informal unsaid compromises that happen, in attempt to make things work. It feels good, you start to feel like you again and you remember how great your life is. After a while sometimes you notice a feeling, a restless energy build. It’s hard to put your finger on it at first, it’s like feeling like to you need to go out for a run. A stirring to be physically active, movement, push, pull, exertions, sweat, force, propelling, hard, fast, exhausting and sweaty. You realize it’s not a run you need to go for, it’s not that type of release, but rather soon you realize, that what you need, is to get laid. The absence of your option to have sex, when you want it is temporarily gone. Rarely will a woman get turned down and in a relationship it’s almost never, I could wake my ex up out of a sound sleep and he was able and willing to take care of my needs. It wasn’t always the best of the best due to the tired factor but if I had a want or need it was available. You get a little desire dizzy and you begin to think of and be open to a new person taking care of your wants, and in fact you start to look forward to it.525

The first time someone flirts with you and you are receptive to it and flirt back even if it’s just for fun. The first time someone kisses you after your ex can be one of the best parts of breaking up. The first time you experience a desire and feel desired in that way can help put your mantra back in your strut “I’m hot and I don’t give a fuck.”  Now, this can be when you find a new love, begin dating, chatting with someone regularly or it can just be when you make the conscious decision to take a new lover. This sounds so very …..French ……but pourquoi pas?

As I entered my 40s I realized one of the greatest parts of myself is my sexuality, it is confident, funny, open to surrender, fun, and feel good moments. I have done this more so in the past few years and its fun and enjoyable a release of energy. These aren’t the loves of my life, intellectual match or soul mates. They are or well as a rule have always been younger than me, sometimes much younger because what I need is something light, something easy, something fun, FUN, get that? FUN. The relationship I just got out of especially at the end was not fun, it was miserable, filled with fighting, filled with difficult moments, filled with moments of not getting our needs met, heavy, at times boring, and definitely not easy. A new lover is all those things and sometimes more. A new lover is funny, a new lover’s kiss makes every inch of your body feel a buzz, a new lover banters, a new lover flirts, a new lover wants. Just like your relationship was in the beginning but without all the arguments, drama or baggage. Remember those good ol’ days? Well I’m about to, remember them, repeatedly with abandonment, cause “I’m hot and I don’t give a fuck……yet.”

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I want what I want, wait what do I want again? #20

I’m the youngest of 5. My three older sisters and older brother all grew up together with 3-4 years in age. I came later, much later, 10 years later.  A real oooops I suppose.  What I do know about myself is that I have youngest and only child qualities and that can make for some difficulties, especially in relationships.  I take every relationship as a learning experience and continue to work on my 80/20. There is a theory that you really only get 80% of what you want in a relationship,  and you may want your partner to be an avid reader or have an appreciation for the arts but he/she doesn’t, but it’s ok because the 80% of what you do get keeps you happy. People often believe cheaters forever chase the 20%. The key is knowing what is in your must have 80% and what you can let go of and put it in your 20%.

This is a theory I have applied to many relationships, he is great in bed but doesn’t like to give backrubs, he compliments me and tells me I look pretty but he isn’t into going to concerts etc.  My friends and I are forever trying to figure out what is in our 80%, what can we compromise on and what are our dealbreakers.  I look at the wonderful man I am dating now and still think of taking my fluffy side sleeper pillow in the middle of the night admist his buzzsaw snores and covering his face with the full weight of my body, slowly pressing the pillow tighter till I create an unbreakable seal between his mouth/nose and the pillow.  Why the hell would I want to do that? he tells me he loves me, he wants to see me and drives 1 hour and a half regularly to spend weekends with me.  He cuddles me as I fall asleep and when I wake up in the morning.  He recently built me a side table that marveled the one I wanted to buy in a bullshit fu fu store in Oakbrook.  I literally and I do mean literally made a pros and cons list long ago to determine what was our  my 80/20.  Some of the highlights vulnerability (especially at the start), incrediably loving and supportive especially when my mother passed, great sexual chemistry,  very open minded sexually, takes responsibility, great around my friends, smart, and non judgemental.  There is much more so why do I tend to react or sometimes get stuck on the 20%?  My biggest gripe? he seems to run hot and cold which depending on if you come from my perspective or his can mean very different things.  I feel like the romantic little texts, the little sweet texts reminding me that he loves me, that he is so lucky, that he is thinking of me etc etc go a long long long way.  It’s the way to a woman’s heart and eventually her libido. It’s romance and as a youngest who usually had attention bestowed on her and is an extrovert who is accustomed to speaking up and getting what she wants this can be hard for me.  Whenever I have talked to him about this he does everything he can to respond and show me love in the way I am craving it.  He sends those sweet, caring texts he remembers to remind me of how he feels about me multiple times during the day and then it dwindles….again.  People have told me to put it in my 20% and move on but I can tell you those short little middle of the night or day texts expressing how he feels about me directly impact my connection to him.  I feel loved, cared about and important, in turn, I feel more love, care and importance for him.  I want to be more physical with him when I am romanced like that I feel more sexual, turned on, desired and desiring.

Depending on the friends I speak with, some agree, some say it’s not as important as I am making it, but perhaps it is.  Maybe I would rather trade someone who makes a lot of money for someone who would bring me a single flower, a card or a hand written note reminding me of how he feels about me. Wait not maybe I would. The things we consider uber important in our 20s are such a crock of shit. There has even been some shifting since my 30s.  Now in my mid 40s I think I am so less willing to give up on the 80% and what goes in there and if it meets my needs.  To someone else this might be minor but for me it is perhaps my love language and how I feel connected to a person, a sense of belonging.  It also no doubt fills a void from childhood, words of affirmation were not used in my household, from my parents for any of us kids.  My Dad instilled a sense of responsibility and pride you did what was right and what was expected because that’s what was modeled.  For my Dad thats how life was, you don’t do something for thr praise, glory, reward, compliments or accolades, you just do it.  My Mother on the other hand was rough and many times abusive and critical and manipulative. If she wasn’t expressing herself in this way then you were ignored…..completely. Like some ghost sitting among your siblings, everyone’s name was called for dinner except yours.  Now if you got up to get something to eat or make your plate she wouldn’t stop you but she didn’t invite or include you.  She was a master at the silent treatment and would often want your siblings to partake in not acknowledging your presence either.  We never did that to each other, well I do have one sibling that sometimes did because she was to starved form my Mother’s approval.

Real life sets in when you start a relationship the honeymoon and swoon turns to everyday routines and a comfortable compatibility.  I get that and I to a degree can accept that.  However I am realizing more and more how important the romance and verbal/physical expressions of love are to me and why.  I think for now it will remain in my 80% with a compromise that for now I will ask him for it when I need it.  Time will tell how we and I evolve.

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An Anal Agreement between both parties required 2/17/14 #19

About 2 weeks after my mother died we celebrated our first Christmas without parents.  I’ve said it before being without both of your parents leaves you feeling somewhat lost.  It’s like you have erased your history, where you came from, who you belong to.  It feels as though you are a tree without roots.  The strange counterpart to this is I have spent my whole life trying to cut myself from my family, my tree and now I feel afloat without it.   Fast forward to Xmas, I had been dating someone for just a few weeks things are going well as they always are at the start of something new and fresh.  He is a welcome soft place to land as I sort through the feelings of losing my mother.

I had been fighting one of the worst migraines I have ever had it was Christmas Eve and the sister with whom I am still speaking to had invited me along with her family to my brother in-laws siblings home.    I like them, they are like the family my sister and I kind of wanted, they are not without their flaws but they love each other and they show up for each other ….always.   I am close in age to my bro in laws brother P, and for a short time in college he and I ran in the same social circles so I was really looking forward to spending the holiday with them and some old faces.

The headache prevailed and eventually I ended up right where I started on the couch sleeping away the skull crushing pain.  Tossing and turning, kicking off blankets and pulling them back on was alternated with occasional sips of water before I was reminded that the pain had not gone away.  Sleeping was my only option.  At about 3 am I woke up to an almost burning pain emanating from my arse.   Yes arse.  ARSE. ARSE. ASS, DUPA, CULO.  To be exact my arsehole.

What the fuck is that??? goddamnit, what the fuck, ow, Ow OWWWWW!

I jumped up off the couch and went straight to the bathroom, I had no idea what was happening but I knew one thing my ass hurt, hurt like a burn, like a scrape that gets hot water splashed on it in the shower.

Wait I felt this on Sunday after M and I had sex and I was in the shower, what the hell is my malfunction?

M the new guy I had been dating had left on Sunday for home, today was Tuesday.  On Sunday after a night and day of bent over the edge of the bed, hair tugging, arm behind my back holding, moan filled, back arching, face burying pounding from behind I was taking a shower and felt this slight burn/pain as the warm water ran down my back into my crack.  It was a momentary discomfort that I sort of glossed over I figured it was part of the well  over zealous physicality  from our sexual acrobatics.   Monday was a normal day and I had couple bowel movements which seemed relatively painless until maybe the one on Tuesday morning.  Again that slight sting/burn.

WHAT THE FUCK? DID? HAVE? WHY? IS THIS?  

Gave way to ……DID HE FUCK ME UP THE ASS??? 

Which then gave way to ….DID I NOT KNOW I GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS?

Which then prompted… IS THAT POSSIBLE??

Mental rewind, mental rewind mental rewind.  Ok yes right there, that second as though I was stopping a movie at minute 23 with 11 seconds.  I remember being bent over, really going at it and yep yeah right there, then ,exactly that moment, it started to hurt a little, feel slightly uncomfortable, the discomfort growing, growing and growing up until my pain threshold kicked in.  At the moment I was about to say aloud “ok that hurts” he seemed to readjust and it subsided.  What I would later piece together is he was back in the right hole.  Now I was in full-blown pain, couldn’t stand to have my underwear on or touch even toilet paper to it, note to self, buy more baby wipes.   It’s 3 am, I’m in pain, piecing together the events leading to anal injury and I started to seeth with anger.

Mother fucker, what the fuck, who the fuck does this, who they fuck thinks they can just fuck me in the ass? 

I get out my laptop and begin researching I self diagnose myself with an anal lesion.  It’s common to have a tear occur when one practices, has or has no intention of having had anal without any sort of lubrication.

M, he likes me, as he says he “like likes me”  which is usually a precursor to “I’m falling for you”  which is a precursor to “I love you”.

Why would he do this? Why would he breech my trust in such a way? Guys are pigs!  He doesn’t “like like ” me he doesn’t even “like” me.  He doesn’t have any respect for me, he is terrible at communication, he can’t just take it there without my permission, an extensive talk, long hours of research and  pros and cons list.  ANAL is an agreement, a venture one begins with a handshake of a mutual “I’m in” , at the very least it deserves a prompting of “ok are you ready? I’m gonna stick it in now”. 

As I researched and alternated my weight from side to side as to not apply direct pressure to what now felt like an anal tunnel I stumbled across even more frightening news.

“Transferring one’s penis from the anal cavity back to the vagina leads to exposure to various bacteria from waste.”

I wanted to puke, I was livid, I checked my phone it’s 3:45 I want to call him right this very second and scream “You ass fucked me without my permission, without even my interest, that’ s like rape, that ass rape, that is a violation, how about you let me fuck your ass? How about I don’t ask you and just do it lube free and tear you a new one? Huh? how about that, you fuckin fuck”

The pain sears I go back to researching online but this time for remedies.  I’m thinking like maybe icing, or a cold compress, I have no idea I’ve never tore my ass before….until now.  Most websites recommend ointment or Preparation H.  Makes sense what you would use to treat hemorrhoids would help treat a torn gaping butthole.  Ok perhaps I am exaggerating however in my head it felt like it.

This will probably be the least believable part of this story but I swear on all the ones that I love that still remain on this earth I happened to have Preparation H, not because I have hemorrhoids but because I am vain.  I have used it to treat wicked puffy eyes and bags, essentially it reduces the inflammation.  A makeup artist tipped me off to the trick and told me it is commonly done.  I used it when I began to process the loss of my brother and would cry and cry and cry for hours, the kind of sobbing that makes your chest hurt, your nose run and leaves your lungs gasping for air.  I could hide all of this but I could not hide my swollen eyes when I went to work in the mornings so I used Preparation H.

Eww now I have to touch my finger to my asshole, in a very deliberate way to get this on the tear.

Jesus effin Christ how can this be my life at 4am Xmas morning???

I do it,  and instantly wash my hands scrubbing the index finger which performed the procedure.  I feel instant relieve, a cooling sensation, the burning lessens and then stops but is replaced with an uncomfortable moisture in my crack.  It’s better and worse at the same time different way.

I want to call him, I want to read him the riot act, I want to scream and ask him who the fuck he thinks he is, I will break up with him.  My mind is racing I run through everything I will say I choose my words carefully in case he comes back with some sort of  butt rebuttal.  I check my phone over and over again awaiting the time to call 6 am?? 5 am?? how long do I need to wait?

I text at 6 stating this “as soon as you wake up could you please call me” and I wait what seemed like forever.  What exactly is forever when you are waiting to tell someone they tore your asshole when they shoved their dick in there without asking you?  Not sure.

Almost and hour and half later he calls.  By this time I have had ample time to think, I have calmed down, I have realized that this guys has been open, honest, trustworthy and supportive and 100% in my corner with the passing of my mother.  I remember that it is so unbelievable that anyone would stick around to try and start little less nurture a relationship with someone in such an emotional state, but he has, he has been there every step of the way holding my hand, making me laugh when I needed it , and wiping my tears.

“Hi Good Morning”  …….morning I reply.

“Merry Christmas”  and a flush of embarrassment runs across my face when I hear him say this.  I know I am about to follow-up his seasons greetings with “WHY DID YOU FUCK ME IN THE ASS???” 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas” I mumble.

“Is everything ok? are you ok?” he asks nervously

He knows something is wrong, he thinks I am about to break up with him which seems so counter intuitive considering the weekend we just had together but why else would I have sent such a text?

“I don’t even know how to say this, I know one of things we like most about each other is that we can tell each other anything, anything at all.  We have had such interesting and vulnerable conversations and it has brought us  closer.  What I am about to say is fucked up, really fucked up so I am just going to say it, directly and without sugar coating. “

There is a moment of hesitation, silence and the same hand that nursed my ass hours ago now cradles my forehead as I am about to say something awkward and difficult that will change everything.

“Did, well, Sunday when we were going at it,  um er did you fuck me in the ass?”

Silence.

“What? are you asking me if I, if I, if we had anal?

“Yes”

“No, I mean not that I am aware of in any way, no”  “Why? is something going on down there?”

“Yes, I have a tear or what I can guess after consulting Web M.D. is an anal lesion” 

“What? Do you I mean what happened? ”

“Remember when we were really going at it, well at one point I felt like an intense pulling and upward motion, I thought it was the angle of how you were entering me. I could feel the pressure building and building until it started to become uncomfortable and more uncomfortable and then started crossing over the threshold into pain.  I was just about to tell you but then you moved and it stopped”

“Uh huh, and you think I may have possibly been in the wrong spot?”

“It had to be, there is no other way this could have happened”

“I’m sorry I didn’t intend for that to happen and I never would have ever tried something like that without you and I or us having some sort of talk or discussion, it’s not just something I would do, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

” Yes I am ok, I know the more I thought I about it the more I knew it wasn’t you to do something like that”

“I’m sorry, is there anything I can do? I feel bad”

” Well no, according to google it will take time to heal but all should be normal in a few days”

He proceeded to ask me more questions about the timeline and when it started hurting and how                        is it that it didn’t hurt so much until like a day and half later. I said I had no idea but that according to all the stories I read online it was common for the pain not to settle in for a few days.  He deduced that between then and now I had well “used” my anus which probably re-triggered the pain or tear.  I explained how angry I was and how I almost called him in the middle of the night and despite him saying he wished I did I’m glad I didn’t.  I’m glad I calmed down and let cooler heads handle this discussion.   Uncomfortable as it was to have this conversation with a new boyfriend  we were glad that I felt I could.  I ended with the hope that one day this would be a funny story one day which we would laugh at and retell to friends.   By the following week I had already begun to share it with a girlfriend and guy friend.  Her comment was if he were anywhere near full penetration I would have known and my guy friend was just astonished saying “how could you not know????” .  I guess everyone is different but I think because I didn’t have anything to compare it to I wasn’t sure what it was….but I do now.

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