Healing Through Living Vicariously

I think from now on, I shall think of my dear friend from Tribeca when I consider the subject of a man giving a woman flowers.  And that should remove the painful associations of that act from my mind.

Wait.  Let me back up.  First off, he's not really from Tribeca; that is just where we met when I visited Manhattan.  He is from the west coast, but was traveling out there and we arranged to meet for lunch.  It turned out just to be for pie, but the pie was delicious, and so was he.  Not that I actually tasted him.  He had a head cold, and I maintained a strategic distance to avoid catching it.  But he is delicious nonetheless, with his lovely personality and handsome face.  We had a splendid visit. 

We started off as prospective lovers - online lovers, since I am only on there for erotic chat - on a BDSM site.  I was curious about all the kinky stuff one can do, and I put a profile on there.  I began as far more submissive, then realized my true nature as a switch, and began to get some interesting men writing to me.  Our love affair was highly formalized.  He is a very cultured Dom.  He knows how to spank a woman, of course, and does so often in 3D.  He is capable of quite rough sex, I believe.  The sort that requires safe words.  But he is also extremely old fashioned in his courtship rituals.  So we never got beyond the early lovely dating stage before he realized I was an innocent, never having had another man but my husband, and that I need to remain in my marriage at least until my children are raised.  Also, I am a few years older than him.  My profile there shaves a bit off my age.  Those factors combined to make us exceptionally dear friends, pouring our hearts out to each other.

He falls in love pretty easily.  The most recent object of his affection is a pretty woman who says she wants a TPE.  TPE, for those of you who do not know the acronym, means Total Power Exchange.  One partner gives up all decision making rights.  The other dictates each aspect of the person's life.  This rings my dear Tribeca man's bells big time.  He is part German, you see, and those people can be quite into dictating.  They like to oversee details and make schedules and such.  He is the first to admit her sort of submission dovetails with his OCD.  He has told me his personality can be rather anal, and so a gal who gives him complete control must be a dream come true.

After just one date, he told her he loved her.  She was a little freaked by this, but he managed to reassure her that he was not a crazy person.  I find his declaration endearing, but I understand why she might be concerned.  It takes time for some people to fall in love.  Then he jetted away on business and missed her horribly.  We chatted the other day, and he told me of his recent adventures and feelings.  I do love that he shares so openly with me.  I live a bit vicariously through him, thanks to the wonderfully descriptive things he writes to me and the photos he sends me.  He is such a dear fellow.  I hope this woman works out for him.  But if not, there are other fish in the sea.  He hears from many of them, ready, willing and eager to submit to him.

Although they tend to have sex with him pretty quickly - most on the first or second date, it seems - he does not forget the value of courtly gestures.  When he mentioned sending flowers, my immediate thoughts were rather sour.  The first was that the only time my husband has ever ordered roses delivered to a woman was the time he sent them to the girl with whom he was having an affair, to her workplace.  He spared no expense for the one he adored, as I stayed home with our toddler, flowerless.  The other is worse, in a way.  He had so rarely given me flowers, and when he did, they were usually unusual ones, often something colourful I could plant in our garden after enjoying them in the house for a bit.  When he came home one day with a large bouquet of roses, I looked at his face and saw guilt there and I knew.  Something was up.

So men giving women flowers is not my favourite thing ever.  But when my Tribeca friend wrote to me of his intent to give TPE girl some flowers, all of my past history was swept aside.  There are men who love women, who want women, who wish that women were with them in their fancy hotel rooms so that they were not alone and lonely, but could make love to them and lay beside them when they get too exhausted to do more than simply feel their naked bodies touching each other.  Perhaps exchange a kiss or two now and again, because that does not require an overabundance of energy.  But just be together and be happy about that.

Tribeca Man is in Moscow now, wishing TPE girl was with him in his fancy room.  As I write this to you, I'm reminded of all the many trips my husband took for work, and all the times he never told me he wished I was with him in hotel rooms.  How I rarely heard from him when he traveled.  How lonely I felt, and undesired.  And I realize it is not about the flowers.  It is about what they represent.  Desire.  That is what I wish to receive, and what I have to offer.

12:54 AM 
him: Still up?
me: Yes!
  How are you, dear man?
him: Just arrived in Moscow. I had some issues with room availability at the hotel. 
me: oh jeez
him: I expressed my disappointment that I couldn't check in yet.
  They upgraded me.
him: I am in a three room suite in a 5-star hotel overlooking Red Square.
him: It's ******* insane. Art on the walls, jacuzzi, two TV's.
  I simply must find someone to take back here during my stay ;-)
  Real quick, before I have to run to a meeting.
me: Okay...
him: Things with TPE girl seem to back to normal. I texted her that I wish she'd be here with me and she said she did too.  Sounds like a good thing to me.
me: YES
him: (He asks sheepishly)
me: Definitely.
him: Good.
  I will just take it slow, ask to see her on Tuesday when she is off work.
me: Grand.
him: I also plan to bring flowers. When you are so explicit about your sexual needs, it seems like courtship gets easily forgotten.
me: Nice.
him: And here's the second piece of news. Remember the SoCal woman of whom I ask to send me pictures regularly?
me: Love?
him: Yes?
me: Can I include that line about the flowers in a story I'm writing?
I love it.
him: Sure.
me: grand
him: Anyway, SoCal girl.
me: what about so cal lady?
him: She told me that she is looking for a specific kind of relationship.
me: jeez
  it never rains but it pours
him: Seems like there are two women in my life now who want me to control them.
What to do, what to do....
me: well done, stud
him: I told you I sent her some toys, right?
me: nope
him: Sent her some "toys". And I got her all set up on Skype. Should be fun.
me: sweet
him: I think so.
me: you are so depraved. I love it.
him: I am? I don't think so. I just do what comes naturally.
me: yes, dear
  I know
  I have to scoot
  but I am very happy for you
him: Same here. Gotta run to a meeting. I will send you some photos of the room :-)
milkynips milkynips
46-50, F
1 Response May 16, 2012

I have learned to live extremely well by being vicarious to others lives. The things one can learn by doing so are greatly rewarding, especially when they allow you to live that way.