Thursday, December 30, 2004

Ms Goody-Goody Two Shoes

Around midnight last night, my angel demurely removed her halo and proceeded to kick my devils ass. It was fierce!

I dialed up the want-you-back-so-bad-and-will-stop-at-nothing-to-win-your-heart husband and we talked for a good two hours. Among many other things, I told him I was feeling lonely, scared, restless and, well, frisky and that I was very tempted to call my pal. We talked about what I see as a lack of sexual chemistry between us and he was able to take me back to a time where I was able to remember when his kisses made me weak in the knees. We both acknowledge how fabulous it is to be able to completely abandon your role as mommy or daddy (as we have been afforded during our separation) and share a night/morning with someone who wants nothing more than to rock your world. That being said, I believe that he (finally!) and I are on the same page. We both want what he describes as a connection on a deeper level. Niether of us is willing to relinquish mind blowing sex and so that means we, like every other married with kidlets couple we know, will have to get creative and find ways to take off our mommy and daddy hats long enough to- well, in short, make it about us.

I figured out some time ago that junk food sex wasn't really for me and that although my friend is awesome in bed, there was little else going on between us... it wasn't until last night that I was finally able to admit that I am a junkie. My pal was a quick fix, a band-aid, a rush, a high, a space filler, a low risk recreational drug. So it follows that it's no surprise that I would find myself fighting the urge to call him up on the heels of spending a whirlwind month with my ex. Until these last few days, I have had little time to stop and catch my ask myself what I'm doing, what I want, does this feel good?

It's been extremely difficult to set aside my cynicism, some would argue, common sense, (insert image of me here, covering both ears and loudly sing-songing la-la-la-la-la...I can't hear you) long enough to believe that a committed relationship built on trust and intimacy with this man is indeed possible. Our past points to a big fat NO but there *is* something different about him. It's intriguing enough for me to want to get back on the ride albeit with a helmet and a seatbelt this time. Did I mention that I'm scared out of my wits? I am going to hold on for dear life but keep my eyes wide open and I am *not* going to call my pusher to somehow anesthetize the whole experience.

Anyway, turns out that honesty is incredibly sexy and I'm still way hot even in flannel pj's. Oh and my angel, in all her glory, has dusted off her wings, donned her halo once again and is keeping the devil's horns as an, uh, souvenir.


Blogger Betsy said...

I, for one, am very glad to have gotten a good ass-kicking by the good angel.

Never let it be said that I wasn't afraid to admit it when I was Wrong Wrong Wrong. And I was here, when I encouraged you to go with the bad angel. Absolutely Wrong.

9:43 AM  

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