Wednesday, April 20, 2005


When I was a child my mother taught me how to swim. She would stand a few feet away from where I clung to the edge of the pool with her arms out-stretched, telling me that I could make it. I would thrust myself away from my secure perch and flail toward her.

Then I opened my eyes one time and saw her feet, underwater, walking backwards away from me. I came up spluttering and shaking and MAD AS HELL!!! I was furious with her for duping me.

Yet here I am as an adult, pulling the wool over my own eyes, as I propel myself blindly through the water, madly swimming toward a destination that is always receding.

I have never had a completely fulfilling relationship. Apparently I either get sex or security, but never both.

I spent years, YEARS!, off and on, trying to make a relationship work with a guy because the sex was SO AMAZING that, to this day if I smell the cologne he wore I almost pass out. But personality wise - we were a train wreck. We fought like cats and dogs (if by "cat" you mean "Bengal tiger" and by dog you mean, um, well, some big tiger-sized dog).

So now I'm married to a WONDERFUL man who lets me fulfill my dream of being a stay-at-home-mom, who thinks I'm sexy and smart and is a hands-on proud father. You can see where this is going, can't you? The sex is abysmal.

Originally I thought it was going to be like giving up smoking. I'd miss it A LOT to begin with, but eventually come to terms with it and miss it less and less. Come to find out, it's more like missing water. I can feel myself shriveling up with want. With need. I'm start to question just what lengths you might go to for a long cold drink.

"I thought he gave you everything you wanted."
"He did, it just turns out I wanted the wrong things."

Only I didn't want the wrong things, I wanted (and got) the RIGHT things. I just miss the "wrong" things.