A Quiet, Vulnerable MomentI haven't shared much in the way of stories, but many of you know a bit of my tale through my history of long comments. Part of what I have expressed about the pain of an SM is not just the issue about the lack of sex, although that alone can detonate the smoldering mess of a relationship. The real, visceral pain that chases us no matter what we do is the continuing realization that the spouse we loved, and continue to love, simply shut down on us. There is no eye contact, no nonverbal communication, no trust, no gratuitous giggles, no touch, no wonder, no play, no sense that you are wanted, no eyes that brighten up when you walk into the room, no sense of unconditional love, no joy, nothing spontaneous, nothing to look forward to, no reason to go home, no reason to stay home, no reason to listen when she speaks, no reason to wake up in the morning, you have 3/4 of the bed to yourself because your spouse clings to the far edge, and oh, right - you never agreed to be a broken down, celibate heart attack candidate either. This is why I find myself contemplating the social utility of murder by successive paper cuts whenever I hear some addle headed, doe-eyed woman pipe up and chirp "Oh, sex is all you males think about. Typical male!!" as she rolls her slightly glazed eyes.
And so I'm sharing with you my friends, that the ice is showing a few cracks. We had another blowout over the weekend, comparatively small as they go, the result of a buildup in pain and frustration. But somehow we both found an alternative to that slice and dice approach we all know and love so well, in pulling it back together. That led to a couple hours of quiet, intimate cuddling where we actually connected and spoke with each other of things that matter so much we usually fear to speak of them. It sounds tiny and pathetic, but to me is significant because it comes from the place inside that all the things I crave and have been denied come from. It felt as if she was making herself vulnerable to me, without the wall, without the blame, without the self loathing that has so often poisoned our attempts to regain our moments. It was honest.
And today as I'm thinking about this, it occurs to me that I really want to wrap up this work stuff and get the hell home early. It's 4:45 in the afternoon in my office and you know what? I'm the hell outta here. I want to be at home instead. Haven't felt like that in 20 years.