A Rock Feels No Pain

In despero , obscurum ; In Diligo , Lux lucis. (In despair, darkness; In Love, Light). -Me

Cool Thing-

I came across a really neat site over at dangerous lilly’s tonight. I’d never heard of this place, it’s called “Gives Me Hope”.

Little snips of things that people have done, or observed, or thought of, that give hope to another, in some way or fashion.

This one, particularly, floored me:

A little girl was dying of cancer and her younger brother had a match for the bone marrow she needed.


The doctors told him it was a matter of life and death.

After he had the surgery, he asked the doctors how long he had to live.

He thought if he gave his bone marrow to let his sister live he would die – but he did it anyway.

Goosebumps, and, mebbe a tear or two- okay, so I’m not such a good rock anymore, lol.

Just wanted to share…

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Filed under: friendship, life, love, ,

Not My, but Thy

(This is really long, and rather wandering, but I needed to write it, and post it- so my apologies in advance)

I’m jumping back again, back to the fall of 2006. This would be post suicide-by-truck-into-bridge-averted-by-some-other-powers-hands-on-mine-that-saved-my-pretty-useless-carcass-for-some-reason (at the time) unknown-to-me timing. This would be post drop-the-kid-off-for-his-first-year-at-the-university timing. Post (or during?) the find-out-about-things-in-our-relationship-that-are-not-so-good-to-find-out-about timing. Anyone following that? No? Me either, but that’s okay.

The important parts, of the whole time period then, are varied- it’s sufficient for some of it, to simply note that a whole lot of garbage has been worked through, sorted, thrown away and is gone. A lot of ripping out of the deadwood, to leave behind what is real, and true, and valuable, in my relationship with Lynn. Of course, there is the minor detail that I’m still alive and around to care about this stuff, which along with our caring about one another again, is an ongoing process, as well as an ongoing commitment.

But something very very interesting happened, in the midst of all of the yuk. There was a time, a moment when my heart was breaking, when I honestly couldn’t have given odds that I would ever be whole enough to care about anything. But, once again, I was feeling those warm hands, that so soft voice- and because of that, I did something I hadn’t done in years.

I left my house, and went to church. Not on Sunday, not for a service, but just because I needed to be there.

I went to the church we’d found back in 1999, when we moved to this teeny village. The white clapboard little country church, where we’d found a spiritual home. Granted, I’d spent intervening years actively avoiding it, granted that during that time I couldn’t have, (or rather, wouldn’t have) acknowledged that God existed, much less cared- that didn’t matter. I knew, in the same way that I’d felt those warm hands on mine two months before, that I needed to get my ass to church.

I prayed there, sincerely, and for the first time in a long long time, I prayed the one prayer that I believe God likes to hear more than any other. Pretty much, I said, “Show me what YOUR will is here, show me where I need to be going, because I don’t know; I need you to show me what path YOU want me on. If that means I lose my marriage, my life, my place in this world, so be it.” YOU know- the whole, “Not my will, but Thy will be done” praying.

And, much to the chagrin of the part of me that had been running from it, for so long, so thoroughly, He did what will always be done, if we can but listen, if we can only see. He told me. He showed me. He made it very very plain to me, that despite all of my best efforts, He was there and waiting, patiently, for me to wake up. He made it plain, that my first job now, was to get my house in order. Then, he wanted to talk to me some more. (Know how it was, when your dad or mom would say “I want to talk to you?” Yeah, that’s the tone, right there).

At that point, there was still a lot of work to be done, of course. A ton of work, a lot of tears, and anger and frustration and ready to quit. A lot of learning, and relearning, and all the work of restoring trust, and rediscovering one another, and relearning about one another. (No, I’m not talking ’bout marriage here, although that was true, too- no, I meant between myself and God).

That growth is ongoing, of course, and will be forever. I started by making the simple changes I needed to, in order to make the opportunities for communication to happen. I started getting to church, and becoming more actively involved there. I began to make time to pray, and study, and think, again. I spent time reflecting on things that I’d heard, and known-but-denied, and acknowledging that sometimes, other people might know us better than we know ourselves.

And so, eventually, I took an opportunity to explore some things at the Seminary in New York; I jumped into some things at church that I’d never done before, and they were amazing. I started teaching the high school classes, as I’d done years before. I started working with various groups, and these days, I’ve found myself on the vestry- whodda thunk THAT, five years ago?

I’ve struggled, and still do- and probably will, forever, with wanting things that aren’t good for me, aren’t what God wants for me; and, no doubt, I will succumb to those temptations, and beat myself up for it, for not being stronger, or better, or whatever.

But, I’ve learned something that I can cling too, that I grasp, that I hold dear to my heart, and that I thank God for each and every day, each and every time I pray. I’ve learned that I am much happier, much more complete, much more than I used to be- if I remember to pray “Thy will”.

There is a whole range of things I can think of, and point to, and reflect on, that let me know that I am finally heading where I’m supposed to be, that at least I’m at the beginning of the right road for me to take. I’m not going to try to catalog them all, I’ll spare you that.

But, one of the steps that I took last week, is a huge one. A letter was sent to a carefully, prayerfully chosen group of eight people of our parish. This letter is the biggest thing I’ve ever tackled, and the most important thing of all, in so many ways- so, I’m placing it here, as well as in my heart and the hearts of the ones that received it in the mail.


To: ***
From: Father ***
Date: Ash Wednesday – 2009
Re: Discernment Committee – David ***

Dear Friends –

I write to ask your help in serving on a discernment committee for David ***. David has a strong sense of calling to serve in ordained ministry in the church, and has over the past two years begun the work of testing that calling by taking some classes at General Seminary and by substantially increasing his involvement in various church ministries here at Christ Church. The time has come to assemble a parish level discernment committee on his behalf.

The work of a discernment committee varies with the candidate they seek to serve, but always involves hearing the story of the candidate’s life and sense of calling, and helping the candidate reflect on their experiences of both church ministry and ministry in the wider world. Discernment committee work is typically prayerful, deep and nourishing for all involved. This committee will meet to assist and support David until he either moves beyond the parish level in the “process” of formation for priestly ordination, or until he is clear his vocational calling lies in another arena.

If you agree to serve on this committee, you can expect to meet about once every six weeks, usually on a Sunday afternoon. Past discernment committees have typically shared a simple lunch together after church, meeting for about an hour and a half. We will convene for our first meeting of the group at some time early in the Easter season.

You are receiving this invitation for very specific reasons. I trust you will honestly and prayerfully consider serving with this group. Your presence would be a blessing to us all, and David in particular.

I will call soon to answer any questions and see if you’ll be joining us. Thanks in advance for your kind consideration.

Faithfully Yours –

Father ***

Obviously, I don’t know for sure where this will lead. I think I do, and so do many others- but the point is to help discern that. But that’s okay, right? Cuz I get to say, “THY will…”

Filed under: depression, emotions, God, learning, love, lynn, marriage, suicide, , , , , , , , ,

Thanks

Almighty God,

We give thanks to you for all the blessings you have given us in this life. We thank you for our family, those who are gathered together here, as well as those that are far away. We thank you for the abundant riches that you have given us, for warm homes and sufficient food, for clothes and friends and our community.

We ask that you bless this food, that we may take sustenance from it, to always seek your will for us, and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others, especially those less fortunate than we.

We pray this in the name of the Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

This is the blessing I asked today, as we sat around our (too small) table. There were five of my clan, as Rob is spending Thanksgiving with a cousin in North Carolina; this is the first holiday we’ve ever spent where all six of us weren’t together, and that’s a strange, strange feeling.

In addition, we had one of Lynn’s brothers and his wife, and one of their kids- (the other is the cousin Rob is visiting). We had one of Lynn’s sisters, and her son and wife and their child. In all, we squashed 12 people around our table, sitting on extra chairs from the den, from the office, from the basement and from a bedroom.

We feasted, on turkey, squash, stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry. We had salads, and beans, and pie, and more pie. There was coffee, there was milk, there was wine and sparkling water, there was laughter, and jokes and stories. We giggled, we roared, we raised a ruckus and we shouted. We hugged, we looked at hand-blown glass, we shared and we loved one another.

I looked around, and thought, “Who cares, that this year we’re a little cash-strapped. Who cares, that I’m not exactly sure how to replace the tires on the car. Who cares, that the den needs carpet and that I can’t repair the ceiling until my arm will work. Who cares, indeed.

We have a roof; we have enough to eat, and the kids’ are warmly dressed, and we’ll be able to fix the ceiling soon enough. I don’t need tires yet, I can’t drive anyway. We have so very much, compared to some people, who are struggling not with how to fix a car, but how to fix their shoes.

We have family, we have love, we have a fire in the fireplace, we have friends and we have each other, and we have God.”

We’re doing pretty damn good, if you ask me.

I hope all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, filled with peace and love.

Filed under: family, God, love, , , , , ,

One flew into the Cuckoo’s nest

I know, the title of the book is “One flew OVER…” but, I didn’t. I flew into the cuckoo’s nest.

Flew into a brick wall, as well, or that’s what it felt like.

I’ve just returned from a few days in what I refer to as the nut-hut, because I had a major depressive episode on Sunday night. Looking at Lynn’s face and the expression in her eyes, as she was watching me, convinced me that the best thing to do was to remove myself to a safe place, but one where my own loved ones didn’t have to take on the responsibility of keeping me from hurting myself.

Not the easiest thing to do, because despite all of my knowledge and intellectual understanding, there’s still the underlying resistance to needing help for a mental illness. I can tell myself over and over that it’s just another part of the body that gets sick sometimes; and most of the time, I even believe it. But it’s still not the greatest feeling to know that your brain isn’t working right, and needs to have something just in order to do what normal people do without thinking about it.

So, a mixed week around here. Bad, in that it’s never fun when the black thing rears up, and this was a nasty vicious attack; but good, too, because I was able to ask for the help I needed, when I needed it.

I also realized, over the days, how much I love and value the friends I’ve been making lately. Many of them are online but I find that a pretty neat thing all by itself- it’s easy to talk here, and easy to share thoughts that would be much slower in coming, if there were more of the social conventions to be followed first.

I was struck again, by how loving my family is; Lynn was there, twice a day, for the full hour allowed, just to talk, to bring coffee that isn’t slop, and clean undies- and whatever else was needed, just to hear her tell me that she wasn’t going to let me come between us, was so fundamentally needed I can’t express it all.

I have so many things that I want to write about, observations that struck me, while I was there, but can’t yet articulate; so, if you read here regularly, you’ll have to put up with that for a while, I suspect.

Filed under: "cuckoos nest", "mental illness", depression, family, friends, friendship, love

Thinking about Trust, and a bunch of randomness too

Trust, is something that I never particularly thought of much. I either trusted, or I didn’t trust someone, or something, without really knowing why, much of the time. Perhaps because I’ve been pretty blessed throughout my life with people that were trustworthy, it’s not been a huge thing in my mind. I don’t remember horrible betrayals of fifth-grade confidences, nor being ratted-out in ninth. The people I encountered that I would think of as “Not trustworthy” were usually given that classification based on observations of what they had done or said in regards to someone else, not me.

So it’s been difficult for me over the past year and a half, to know quite what to do with myself, my emotions, on the occasions when I have been confronted with untrustworthiness. (Is that a real word? If not, it should be). I am finding that it’s a lot harder to deal with, for a couple of reasons. One part of it, of course, is the importance of the relationship; obvious, but something I had to learn apparently, is that the impact is much more damaging when the person is close to you, and you care about them more than even a “bestest friend”.

The second part I’m struggling with, is that we seem to go up and down, or two steps forward, one step back. We’ll be doing our thing, and I’m thinking “this is good”, feeling closer and communicating well, and I get hit with something that seems to stop me in my tracks. Problem is, when I get stopped like that, is that it brings back all the old feelings and concerns, in a huge rush of fear and anger and jealousy and hurt. And of course, I know my own reaction to that– shutdown, pull back, withdraw and let the coldness numb the feelings, and they’ll go away. Right? Right?

Oh, wrong. Doesn’t work that way, not anymore, not for me- I can’t do it like that anymore, and honestly don’t want to again. That way leads to misery, unhappiness, and coming way to close to dying. No, can’t do that anymore.

Each time, the apologies, the tears, the wanting to be held, are immediate. Each time, I’ve opened my arms, held and cuddled and we’ve talked; and each time, depending on how things progress, we’ve made love, and spent the next week or two being reassured and reassuring more regularly than before. Each time, after a week or so, the attitude seems to be that “it’s all gone, you shouldn’t be worried about it, I said I’m sorry what more do you want, get past it.”

Which I wish I could do, with all my heart I wish I could do that, so easily. Lynn has said: “You think to much”, and also “You worry about when things happened too much, like a calendar”. I guess I probably do, but it’s because when something happens, I can’t help but be reminded of the time before, or the time before that, or before that- and when the emotions are brought back repeatedly, so too are the memories of prior events, that caused them.

Unfortunately, each little betrayal of trust, each little lie or deceit, hasn’t happened in a vacuum. I can’t pretend that it’s not happened before; it has, and it’s hard for her to know I’m remembering, it hurts her to know that I am, but I can’t help it. I can wish they hadn’t, but that doesn’t change anything. I can wish for a selective lobotomy too, but my insurance doesn’t cover them- so, I’m stuck with my minds inability to forget that it’s not the first time, or more, that I’ve been smacked with something similar.

So I’ve tried some different methods, to minimize the ouch, some more successful than others. I’ve pretended that it doesn’t matter, that I don’t care, but that doesn’t work out very well. I’ve ignored things, figuring if I don’t acknowledge it, it wont have a chance to be a problem; that works to an extent, as long as it’s littler things- how much and who, doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t ignore being lied to, though, that part doesn’t work.

So now, we’re in the cuddle-talk-sex-overcompensation mode again, for the last week or so. There’s no real ending to this particular sequence of thoughts, because I don’t know what the ending is yet. We’re in the “talk a lot and reassurance” stage, and I’m trying to not be suspicious of every word or action or expression. So we just carry on, I guess.

The good things, are still going on too, of course. We are talking more intimately than we have in years and years. We’re sharing more of what our days are, of what we look at on the computer, who we’re talking to, and these are all good things.

Getting ready to go to Utah skiing, in March, and that’s going to be great- the first mountain trip for the three younger kids, and it’s been way too long since we’ve skied on something other than mounds- here in NY, they don’t have Mountains, only mounds, ya know.

We’re also planning another just the two of us vacations, in May- going to Cancun, with some friends of ours, and that’s going to be neat too. Granted, it’d probably be nicer in mid-winter, but we couldn’t afford that even if there was space at the hotel, so we’ll be going just after the price drops from the peaks. Should still be fun, and I’m looking forward to the day trips, they set up tours to some of the Mayan villages/sites, that should be a blast.

We’ve been having a lot of fun with the photography, too- Lynn’s taking photography II this semester, and loving it. She had a great time in Photo I, last semester, and took some really good shots; she gets to do her own processing too, which is fun, I remember loving that when I did it too. Think we should set up a black and white darkroom? Nahh, probably not- once she’s done with the film work, we’ll be back on digital and it’s so easy to crop and do the processing on the computer, and print at the local Target, or CVS, that it’s not worth it for occasional use anymore.

That reminds me, I’d mentioned that I’m going to Sacramento next month, and bringing my camera; there are a couple of fairly regular readers from there, according to statcounter anyway. Whoever you are, email me (addy is in profile page), and give me some suggestions. I’m not sure how much time I’ll have, and it’s going to be evenings mostly, when I’m free- but I’ve never been there and don’t want to miss something cool through ignorance of the city!

Okay, this got really long, as I’ve added to it over a couple of days; so I’m gonna post it and call this one done.

Filed under: love, lynn, photography, relationship, travel, trust, vacation

I’m thinking of heaven

One of the good things about traveling, at least if the travel is for business, is that I can spend some time alone, just to sit and think. The last two weeks, I’ve been away (although home on the weekend, yeah!) and been incredibly busy. Nothing like putting in 12-14 hour days, and then lock yourself in a hotel room.

On the nights we didn’t work that long, I found myself thinking a lot, particularly as I tucked in to try to sleep. Reflecting, looking back at different things that have happened in my life, different attitudes and thought patterns that I can see developing as I’ve gotten older.

Perhaps, as I’ve been accused of, I’m an introspective kook, who thinks too much. But, I rather think that looking at what motivates me to do certain things, examining the whys and wherefores of choices that have been made, is not a bad thing. I don’t always like the conclusions I come to, because sometimes it’s hard to look at myself and see just how inept I’ve been, at some facets of this thing called living a life. No, some things, I wish would just go away, so I don’t have to have the retrospective embarrassment that sometimes occurs, when I think of a particularly stupid or boneheaded move.

But the flipside of that, is that I can look back at some incredibly good things, as well. Some choices, some acts, are so clearly indicating that God has something in mind for me, that I can’t imagine how I thought I could fight it off for as long as I did. Maybe the biggest goof-up is that I wouldn’t listen for so long, despite the not-so-infrequent hints? I don’t know… Perhaps, as has been said in different conversations, I wouldn’t have heard until I’m ready anyway, so there’s little point in worrying about it.

I can look at four wonderful, healthy and well-adjusted and polite kids, and think “I had a hand in that, I helped to teach them manners, helped them to know right from wrong, to be polite and respectful.”

I can look at my family, my two brothers, my sister and my dad, and although not as close as some, I know that if I needed them, any of them, they’d be here in a heartbeat. I know, deep down, that they can feel that from me, too, and that’s pretty special on it’s own.

I have even made some friends, in the last year- which, for me, is pretty amazing. But they’re in my life, to one degree or another, some online only, some I’ve talked too, some are even in-person-friends; I’ve shared stories with them, we’ve cried and laughed and shared hugs, we’ve told each other dreams and nightmares- and a few of them, even come back for more! (Hmmm, what’s wrong with ‘em?)

So, I don’t think that some time to think is a bad thing, overall. But now, sitting here in my big ol’ leather recliner, with Lynn over there >>>>, the kids arriving home from school, well- that’s what I call heaven, really.

Filed under: family, friends, friendship, God, life, love, meanderings

Homecoming

For a long time, even more than I knew at that time, coming home didn’t really mean much. I used to call myself The Invisible Man- in fact, I had that on this blog, for a long time. I would come home from work, and when I asked how her day was, I’d get either no response at all, or a very perfunctory “Fine.”

Rarely, was I asked about my own day, and to be honest, I didn’t really care. When I tried to share what I was doing, the glazed eyes, and the obvious desire to be back at the game of the night, made me unwilling to open up and share- even to the extent of “good, or bad”. No, my days were also “Fine,” because it was simpler for me too.

Often, when I would say something about schedules, about events, about whatever, I would be completely ignored, if it was even comprehended at all. Frequently, I found myself not saying anything, because that, too, was simpler; and thinking about it now, I think it was also less painful that way- a fine defense mechanism! So the more I was ignored, the more I withdrew, and that, naturally, led to more of the being ignored.

Not a particularly fun time, now that I’m able to look back at it with a little perspective. Over the past year-plus, since the day I decided I didn’t want to die after all, I’ve been working hard, on not allowing myself to fall into that trap again. I can’t go back there, because I wont survive the trip again, I know that much. So, I work at being open; at sharing what’s going on, in my head and heart and life. I’m not very good at it yet, but God knows I’m trying hard, and when I stumble, I’m doing my best to acknowledge that, and not hate myself for it. And, I wont allow myself to be ignored anymore, I no longer let anyone treat me as invisible.

And you know what? It’s great. The more I can open myself, the more Lynn is opening in return. The more I play and talk to the kids, the more they give back. The more I pray, the more I hear God’s message for me.

Yeah, I know, you all knew this ages ago, but as I told a good friend of mine earlier this evening, “I never claimed to be quick at this, or all that bright about it.”

Friday afternoon, I flew back from Atlanta. I was able to catch an earlier flight, and so arrived home about 3 hours ahead of schedule. Lynn was there, and she was happy to see me, and I was so glad to see her, I am marveling at the change that I feel in that.

Been a long time, since I’ve had to travel without them, and even longer since we started making love before I’d even really gotten in- a lot of fun, to start stripping her clothes off in the kitchen,and playing around like that. Feeling her return the favor, yanking my clothes off too, what a great way to come home. We took a few pictures, that we’d been planning on, but then couldn’t wait anymore. Even better, was doing it again, later that day. Two years ago, if we’d had sex, it wouldn’t have been that urgent, and probably not multiple times.

I have to travel again this week, I’m wondering if I can find another early flight? Hmmmmmm…

Filed under: depression, invisibility, love, lynn, relationship, sex

A Year

A lot of “one year since xyz.” around this time. Overall, I’m doing okay, but there are the moments that it pops into my head. I’m trying hard to balance the ugly with the good, which is that primarily one year ago, I wouldn’t have given odds that I’d still be married at this time. I may not have said no, but it was, at that time, a lot closer to breaking apart than to continuing.

Amazing what can be accommodated, I think sometimes.

A year ago, I asked Lynn something along the lines of where do you see us in a year? Where do you want us to be?

The answer was pretty much “right here, but closer than ever, able to share and talk, and each of us still having space for ourselves as well.”

That fit with my goals and dreams as well, so we made the decision to work on our marriage, together. So we went to a counselor, (who as I look back more and more, I’m not all that impressed with), we talked, we cried, we made desperate, at times almost anguished, love, we laughed and we screwed and we prayed, and we tried to find things we can do together.

I read a lot, many books on communication, on marriage-building tips, on forgiveness. I read the Bible, I started a long, but very, very wonderful journey to rediscover God in my life, and bring Him into our marriage again. I found that the support I’ve been using for depression, some of the online groups and the therapist and the people who love me, are sometimes good to have when I’m feeling alone and apart from Lynn as well.

I’ve learned to live with some things that I never thought I would, and learned to love other things that never entered my head that we would do. I never thought, not in a million years, that Lynn would be having cyber affairs regularly, and that I’d like hearing about it sometimes. I never thought, in a million years, that not only would she let me take sexy pictures, she would suggest things for them. I didn’t ever think we’d be wandering around on a nude beach, at a clothing optional resort; nor, that we’d be planning a second trip for next spring.

I didn’t really think, especially in the depths of my depression, that I’d ever care again, ever feel the love that I have in my heart now, ever again.

I still have my moments, my doubts and uncertainties, but slowly, ever so slowly and surely, I’m coming back. I’m becoming, again, a person that I can like, someone that I can feel has enough value to be worth keeping around. No matter what happens in our marriage over the next few years, whether something occurs to blow us apart or we’re even closer than now, I know that I will be okay.

I never thought that my best friends would be people I’ve never seen in person, and two of them I’ve never even heard their voices. I never thought I’d be writing like this, publishing it to the world and take me or leave me.

Interesting to look at a year, and look back at where I was, and where I am, and where I still want to go.

Filed under: depression, love, lynn, meanderings, relationship, sex

Hot

“I have something to share with you,” she said. “I gave him a little flash last night.”

Hot, hot, hot.

She told me that she was chatting with a friend, one of the guys she’d been flirting with, and it got hot; he had a cam, she had a cam, and they talked one another into using them. She described for me her feelings, what was exciting and arousing, what was silly and fun. At the same time, I had her touching herself, telling me exactly what she was doing and directing her fingers and hands, while I was listening to her voice and breathing and little, oh so soft, moans and sometimes a gasp.

She showed me, via camera, what she had shown him, her gorgeous nipples and breasts- when she gets excited and they get dark and swollen and crinkly on the areola, it’s such an exciting thing to see. I showed her what hearing about and seeing her did to me, how much she excites me and how I long for her to be home with me, in our bed, in my arms.

We ended up on the phone for a long time, both while we were on the computers, and as she lay there in the double bed on the porch. I told her where I wanted her fingers, on her clit, in her warmth, pressing and rubbing until she couldn’t hold back, had to let go, had to let the climax arrive and the wave of sensations wash over her.

I love hearing her, seeing her and tasting her and feeling her when she comes, it’s more exciting to me than anything I’ve encountered. We shared fantasies, talking about positions, about anonymous blow-jobs, about giving and receiving them; we looked at a few pictures together, she at the magical island, me here, 1197 miles separating us, yet somehow we were side by side, feeling one another and hearing ourselves.

Sharing and exploring our sexuality together, particularly in the last six months or so, has been such an amazing adventure, such an incredible journey together. I’m so glad, so extremely glad, that we’ve worked beyond some of our own restraints, that however slowly, we’re learning to share with one another what we find exciting. There is so much that we didn’t do, didn’t talk about, took for granted, for so long. Even prior to the last few years when communication between us was at it’s worst, she had troubles telling me what she wanted, dreamed about, how she felt. Always a holding back, except on very rare occasions. Now, I revel in her revelations, the knowledge of what she likes and what excites her is, in itself, exciting.

Both of us have worried, sometimes, that what we find exciting together is perverted, or weird, or abnormal- but, we’ve come to accept, most of the time, that what is working for us is for us, and that it’s okay to let any/everyone else think it odd, we don’t need to care. No, we can enjoy who we are, and what we have together, and, now that we’re learning to talk again, we can even discuss it when we choose to.

This, is a good thing indeed.

Filed under: cam, chat, communication, love, lynn, marriage, online, relationship, sex, sexuality

Twenty-Two

Twenty Two. 22. XXII, if you like roman numerals.

For over half of my life, as of August 10th, 2007, we’ve been married.

We were young, we were poor, people said we were foolish, that it was a mistake. They were wrong, you know- or, maybe you don’t know, but I do. We aren’t all that young anymore, we’re still foolish sometimes, but it wasn’t a mistake.

No, it’s a glorious, wonderful adventure. We’ve dealt with things, for the most part shoulder to shoulder and working things out well. We’ve been poor, and there were times when the division of cash between gas money to get to work and macaroni and “can we get hot-dogs too” were pretty stressful.

We’ve been through the births and lives (so far) of four of the most wonderful kids that God ever graced this planet with, and dealt with the pain of a non-birth. We’ve had times when we’ve been on the top of the world, and others when the world was weighing so heavily, I wondered if we could survive.

We’ve been ill, we’ve been well, we’ve had periods when we couldn’t stand being away from one another for an hour, and times when if we had to see the other, it hurt.

But-

Through it all, through depression, alcoholism, through hormone-balancing medicines, visits to the emergency room and the island, we’ve managed, somehow, to continue in our muddling and inexpert way, to survive- together.

One year ago, plus and minus a few months, if you’d asked how we, as a couple, are doing, the answer could very well have been “what is this couple thing of which you speak?”

Today, we’re closer than we’ve been in years, and growing closer by leaps and bounds, every day. There are still moments, which will probably continue, when the effort is huge, the communication tasks are daunting. We’re probably no more sensible overall with finances and the mundane day-to-day things, but we’re in a position now where at least we know that we’ll eat, we’ll feed and shelter and clothe the kids, that we can enjoy some things that many others would envy.

So, if you ask today, how are we doing as a couple, the answer would have to be different: “Couple? We’re not a couple, we’re one with each other again. As it should be.”

I love you Lynn, with all my heart and soul and mind and body, with all that I am, with all that I have, and I am looking forward to another half of my lifetime with you.

Filed under: anniversary, love, lynn, marriage, relationship

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Ancient History