Cleopatra

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

I’ve been keeping a little secret from all of you readers. All readers, except for one. And she knows who she is.

I don’t know if it has been a month ago or not, but some time ago I got an email from a regular reader who was not a regular commenter. I’m not sure how she found me (I’ll have to ask) but she was intrigued by me and my writing. I became intrigued by her and her writing.

I’m lousy at keeping up with people through email. I let things lapse for days, weeks and months sometimes, especially social contacts. For work you can’t afford to let those go, but you’re not writing anything very long, hopefully. It’s a lot more simple communicating facts and directives than thoughts and feelings. That’s probably why we see fewer male bloggers than female ones, and male bloggers generally turn over faster and update much less. I write for the blog simply because I have the heart of an entertainer, although not the face of one. I enjoy my audience and hope they enjoy me. It’s the audience that helps motivate me to write, although I would write anyway, but just not as faithfully. Writing for an audience of one is just less appealing for me.

At least until she showed up. I’m going to call her Cleopatra, since it does reflect a certain regal bearing that she has in her writing and even in her voice. I might shorten it to Cleo eventually because I like short names.

Her voice?

I’m getting to that, relax.

We swap emails on a near-daily basis. We discuss almost everything and anything.

Everything? Anything?

Well, yeah, just about. Remember, she is a regular reader of this blog so she is privy to the same deep, dark secrets as everyone else who reads. But she never comments. At least out where you all can see. But I get feedback from her on these topics and then we have our own line of conversations. Sometimes those thoughts end up on here, and sometimes they don’t.

Waitaminit, was she the one…?

Yes, she’s the one who asked the infamous question about oral sex that took Blogland by storm a while back. So, in a way, she has posted before. She freaked a bit when I quoted her, but when she saw the avalanche of responses it triggered, she liked her secret celebrity status. Cleopatra likes to be adored although she is almost as camera shy as I am. She knows that I’m rolling her out before you all, for an initial public viewing, such that it is.

So this is a bit of a milestone. I’ve been blogging over a year (sorry to Cleopatra and the other readers who never saw my old blog) and this is the first time anyone has ever been able to sustain that sort of interest. A few have tried to get ahold of me by email and engage me but none ever hit it right. She did.

But there is another milestone reached with Cleopatra. I’ve been on the internet over 10 years, active in Usenet, message boards, bulletin boards, Fidonet, web pages, chatrooms and all mediums of discussion and debate one can do via electronic text. But I have never talked to anyone I met in one of these forums over the phone. I got married too early to hit the online dating boom.

You talked to her on the phone? Did you have phone sex?

Easy. I’m getting there. It was during my overnight trip out of town last week that I did call her up. Yes, I was naked while we talked. Yes, she was naked while we talked. But no, we did not have phone sex. Neither of us knew the other was naked until long after the phone call! In fact the phone call had more religious/theological/Christian overtones than anything else. We talked for 2 hours until my phone card expired. And now we’re just doing the email thing for now. No, I do not have a cell phone. Glad I don’t, now. I would be incurring serious overcharges!

Are you attracted to this woman or what? Are you thinking about cheating? What ARE you thinking?

There is no way, under the conditions that I presently live in, that I could NOT think about life with someone else, in other circumstances in another place at another time. Cheating is a different thing. Cleopatra has been very generous with her overtures without being tacky, forward or even annoying. But she has been respectful beyond anything else. She does have a life of her own beyond what we have through email. I am very fond of her as she has been nothing but supportive and patient. You all have been supportive and patient too, but I like having a slightly more personal and private place to go with things. Cleopatra provides just that sort of place. While I don’t see her posting here, she might still be a good source of entertainment for you all. And me. She has agreed that she might like to be a virtual keyholder. “Virtual” being she doesn’t necessarily have personal possession of the keys but has control of them, nonetheless.

OOOOOooooooo!

Don’t get *too* excited. We’ve been down this road before…Haven’t we JeN??LOL!

I’m thinking I’ll wait for the 100 days to pass before embarking on new chastity adventures. Since I’ve gone this long, it would be a pity to simply give up when I’m so close to reaching another milestone in my life of semi-celibacy. While the prospect of getting to 100 days has been enticing, I have not stopped trying to put an end to the streak.

Last night, I actually went to bed earlier. Not at 8:15 when Arwyn turned in, but 10:30 is quite early for me. She was still awake or maybe woke up when I brushed my teeth but she just stirred. I extended my hand and put it on her hip. It might have drifted down to her butt for a time and she tolerated this for a time. Somehow, later in the night I ended up embracing her feet.

A note about sleeping positions (again). With her head at the opposite end of the bed and facing away from me, I can have decent access to the lower part of her body. With her on her side, facing away and curled up, if I turn toward her, the soles of her feet are right there. Since she wasn’t wearing socks, and her feet weren’t covered up, it was just a matter of hugging them right up to my bare chest to keep them warm. In the grogginess of sleep, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. She tolerated this very well most of the night, and it represents about the most intimate thing we’ve done in 3 months. Longer than that, sleeping wise. I would love to fall asleep draped over her, or intertwined or her spooning me or even her laying on top of me for a time. I long to touch and be touched. For us to cleave to one another.

She awoke at about 4:30 and she went out to get on the computer. But she was unable to do anything because it was automatically doing a virus scan and update. I got up soon after and we talked for the next hour. About the kids. It’s always about them. She finally went to take her shower. I started some breakfast, and then got in the bathroom just after she finished. I started to hug up on her a bit, and she simply continued to get dressed. I managed to steal a quick kiss. Once again, my touches and hugs were tolerated. Not anticipated and not enjoyed. Certainly not reciprocated or returned. I gave her a big from-behind hug and she stood still there, waiting for me to be finished. And then went on about her day getting the boys ready for school.

So it is against this backdrop that Cleopatra appears. I can discuss things with her beyond the kids, beyond autism and disabilities and the daily grind and she’s not afraid to converse about sex. She likes sex. She has some experience with chastity and Domming. And she doesn’t seem to be repelled by me. She doesn’t merely “tolerate” me like one tolerates oppressive heat, or mosqitoes or cold, rainy weather. Of course her involvement with my daily life is limited to emails, so who knows what real life would actually be like. We just have a number of things in common.

For fans of Return to Happiness, Chris has a character called Paris LaQuinta. I see Cleopatra serving a similar literary niche here. And then some. The telephone call put Cleo in an elevated category that I thought warranted at least some mention here. The keyholder bit gives her an even larger role. In the grind of the struggle that I’m engaged in, it is good to have something to look forward to. I’m sure more coverage will follow. Feel free to discuss.

D.

93

11/29/2005

Tuesday

I Wonder if she’ll read this one. What follows is a bit written directly to Arwyn along with some other content.

93 days.

93 days of involuntary celibacy. I know I never specifically asked for this. I never dreamed that when I got married I would be presented with this scenario. I remember you promising that you would never cut me off. Maybe I should have read the fine print. Somewhere in the marriage vows there was a pledge to love honor and cherish as long as we both shall live. I know that I have had lapses. Some of them more serious than others. But I have tried to correct them.

When I asked you when the last time was that you did something selfless for me, you had to reach back an entire month to think of one thing. My birthday cake. Was that something you did because you cared enough about me? Or was it another duty and obligation? I don’t buy you candy out of duty or obligation.

I do it from love in my heart

Do you really need a Mountain Dew or Coconut Carmels? Do I have to give you these things? Would you hold it against me if I didn’t?

I do them because you enjoy them. If there is something that brings you joy, why wouldn’t I do it? I’m not holding these over your head or lording them over you. I’m just using these things as small examples of how I express my love and caring for you. I try to touch you affectionately with no expectations other than some smallish acknowledgement. But instead, I am called selfish. I am accused of only thinking about sex.

Yes, I think about sex. But I spend much, much, more time thinking about real intimacy. I think that if I ever found myself in the arms of a woman who would hold me as I long to hold and be held, I would cry. Deep, mournful, runny-nosed sobs that would shake my whole body. I am entering a deep sadness that defies words and goes to the roots of my soul.

I remember being in the army, standing at attention having to be straight rigid and stoic. Some clown behind me murmured something funny and I began laughing, nearly doubling over and holding my sides, desperately trying to hold it together. A situation only made worse by the snickering of my comrades. Every time I would almost regain composure, one of them would begin snickering, and it would all start again, me trying to stop laughing with embarrassing futility. Until a thought rescued me from my involuntary mirth.

When Ellen (See Dead Ringer) abandoned me 15 years ago, it was the single most painful and agonizing thing in my life. My soul was ripped out by its roots. With a thought of that experience, I instantly regained my stoic, nonmirthful composure. That one memory could instantly extinguish any laughter and any joy that I would ever experience if I allowed it in. It worked that day in the Army like a switch. It was the most painful and traumatic bit of abandonment I would ever emotionally experience.

Until now. Time has faded Ellen’s memory and the hurts associated with it. While it was a soul-ripping experience, it was relatively quick. The scar lingers, as do the effects.

Today I have begun the realization of a new abandonment. Instead of taking a few weeks this has persisted for years. I am just beginning to feel the terrible effects as they have penetrated walls and emotional levees built to protect against those sorts of floods.

It is the prophetic nightmare of this anguish that haunts our children in the middle of the night, disturbing their sleep. Moans of deep anguish escape my own lips while I sleep. The ghostly pall of the bitter bile of resentment permeates the entire house like a poisonous fog.

How long will this noxious stench infect us and the lives of our children? How long must they inhale the ghastly fumes of a marriage decaying like a rotting corps? Has our house turned into an emotional tomb?

D.

Aneros Trial

11/27/2005

This thing is amazingly comfortable. I lubed it and my posterior up after givng it a preliminary washing. The directions say to lie on one side and then bring one knee up to your chest to insert it. I did that and it was in before I knew what happened.

It wasn't all that exciting, though. I mean it was there, no doubt. But is was almost too comfortable. I flexed my PC muscles a bit and could feel it working somewhat, but it will probably take some practice. And deprivation. It was so comfortable that I got up and took my shower and left it in. Then I wondered…

I got myself up to a nice, full erection and the sensations seemed a lot more intense. At the same time those sensations were distracting. I did enjoy the contradicting push-pull feelings and the Aneros definitely intensified that sensation. I decided not to go for broke at the time, but finished my shower and left it in for awhile. I got dressed and did a few things around the house. I was able to sit or lay comfortable enough which was surprising considering how the handle sort of sticks out. It's the only visible part of it, as the other curved part contacts the perineum, getting the prostate from the other side. When I removed it, it came out as easily as it went in. I put it in again, this time just standing up, and it slipped back in with no trouble.

Okay, one technical hygienic note for the (other) butt virgins reading. Graphic-ness follows. Surprisingly, it came out pretty clean. Yeah, there was some poo on it, but not very much at all. I thought it might look all gross and disgusting, but it was okay. It was easy to clean and wash for the next time.

I think I could have sex with my wife with this thing in and she'd never notice. It might be just the thing, but I could't tell her. If she thought I was fucking her with something up my butt she'd freak. But it might intensify things for me.

I'm going to have to post some questions to the CB list about this thing. Exactly how is it used for milking? Has anyone else used it by themselves with success? Any medical advice as far as using it to prevent prostatitis? (There is at least one M.D. on the list).

I'm thinking the sensations with the cage on will be much more intense. Because of the way the cage works, the prostate does invite more sensations as any erection backs up in that direction. Also, after a few days or weeks of no release, things will be more sensitive. I think it will definitely sweeten the chastity experience.

I don't suppose anyone else has walked around work with a butt plug in all day? Or this particular one? Sleep with it in?

This is not a well-discussed topic 'round the bloggers I frequent. Chelsea Girl is the only one I know of who has reliably covered the topic and her odes to anal ravishment run in a different (still fascinating) direction.

For those with any kinky disposition whatsoever, I highly recommend some exploration and experimentation. Just for my purely selfish aim of having others to discuss it with.

I used to think I'd never get into an anal kink. I couldn’t imagine it and didn't want to. But desperate times lead to desperate kinks. Relating to my last post I'm guessing Normal would not have treaded the waters he trod if his intimate and vanilla sexual needs were being met. Or maybe his case is different having dived into the world of swinging while still being sated with his wife. In anycase, roughly one third to one half of male chastity device wearers arrived in their twisted state as their wives turned into sexual prudes. I know I'd still be all vanilla if Arwyn exhibited half the interest of most of the women that I regularly read.

D.

NSN/PP

11/26/2005

Saturday

I’ve spent a little time catching up on the Pretty Peanut/Not So Normal story and am so thankful NSN is posting more of his side of the story. It is greatly needed and appreciated. His voice sounds remarkably like mine in a lot of respects. I wish he would have left his archive intact, because I caught up with him only right before Peanut did. His latest offerings give a perspective that had me originally tuning in to him on a more frequent basis.

FWIW, I discovered NSN and PP independently, meaning that at some point I discovered Peanut’s blog after I had been reading Normal’s blog for awhile. I knew his wife had one but since I hadn’t spent time reading his comments, I never caught the one left by his wife. I actually followed her home from a comment she left somewhere else. I love getting in early on new blogs and hers looked promising, describing a marriage that was a train wreck. Then as I read both of them, I finally connected the dots. Double the pleasure for me.

I like both of them as writers. They are both honest and raw in their feelings, but neither are what I would call abusive towards one another. They are just honest, which readers of my blog should appreciate.

The main reason my readers should follow this saga is because it provides a lovely counterpart to mine, only you get both sides. Normal is a guy with a HL and a few kinks. Peanut is the LL of the pair and has admitted that she doesn’t even have sexual fantasies. That’s one of several red flags I see.

I identify ever so strongly with NSN in this. By his account, he felt neglected and shoved aside, almost to the point of abuse. His needs were trivialized and minimized. Reading Peanut, I do see this as a persistent thing. She still is either not getting it, or else she simply is not able to bridge over to where her needs and his can exist together peacefully. I can see and understand how he felt the need to go elsewhere for love and affection after feeling reviled and hated in his own house. He is still called immature, needy and unrealistic. That isn’t going to bring him back anytime soon.

At the same time, Peanut has been trying to make some effort. Or had, until NSN left. That move shook her to the point where she wasn’t sure if, when or how to proceed. Now that he’s back, her insecurities are pretty massive, which is understandable. As if the affair didn’t make her insecure enough.

It still comes down to the sexual bit, though. Peanut feels assaulted by sexual pressures all the time while Normal is enduring a virtual sexual desert. Is there any hope of these two bridging this divide? I’m not sure I have much to offer either of them, while I support them both.

Normal needs to make a more determined stand for his marriage, I think. Even if it will be his last stand, make it his best. I understand and know the feelings of hopelessness. A feeling of anger that only now, after all this pain, does your wife start to come around. Be compassionate but be firm.

As for Peanut, the victim role isn’t going to work on Normal. It might win fellow bloggers but it isn’t going to win Normal’s devotion. He hurt her very suddenly and very deeply. She hurt him peristently over a very long time. Both are hurtful and painful but only one qualifies as torture. The counseling is a positive step. If Normal gets an opportunity to go, I think he should take it as part of making a genuine effort. I also understand his cynacism.

If Arwyn turned around today, I would be wary and suspicious. I would spend a long time waiting for the other shoe to drop. It would be hard to enjoy whatever good times because the pain would still be there and the fear that I would have to endure it again would loom large, casting a long shadow over everything. I’m not sure if I could give in to the happiness and pleasure of the moment. Ever. If someone else came along and sparked feelings that brought me hope and pleasure, could I go back to the cold, unfeeling, uncaring bitch who made me feel so inadequate and miserable in the first place? And then heaped all sorts of guilt upon me for seeking solace in another’s arms? Seperation would be a very attractive option if only to escape the misery of judgement.

Having said all that, I don’t feel Normal has exhausted his options. He’s moved back in, which is good. He is being friendly and cordial which is good. It’s certainly better than what he was getting before the affair. But he’s got to make his time count. Make it matter. Posting again is part of that process.

I have given Arwyn more than enough warning. I’ve gone to great lengths. I still have some lengths to go, yet. But I am making the strongest stand that I can. If I got the resolve to leave, I’m not sure I could find it in my heart to ever come back. I’ve wandered the wilderness about long enough, I’m not going back to the slavery from which I came.

D.

Black Friday

11/25/2005

Friday

Not much new to report here. I've got a couple of new posts on Unsolicited Advice (finally!) that might get people thinking.

I'm at 90 days and haven't scheduled any engagements in the War for Intimacy. But one may be brewing. Today it arrived. Arwyn brought the Aneros in with the mail. It was discretely packaged in a box and her and the boys were instantly curious. No, she didn't know about it although I did put notice on our little joint blog that she rarely reads. So she is still curious. Fortunately, that was somewhat put off by a new book that arrived for the boys; Aesop's Fables. So while she read the book to the boys, I took it in the bathroom, liberating it from its packaging.

By the packaging claims, you'd think this was the answer to every man's orgasmic dreams instead of a medical tool designed to enhance prostate health. It comes with a breif set of directions and a diagram showing all the parts of it. It does admonish the wearer to not try to massage by moving the thing manually, but by using the PC muscles to move it. That'll take some practice.

The thing is much heavier and sturdier than it looks in pictures. That was the first thing that grabbed my attention when I picked it up. But I have not had a chance to try it, yet. Since I've been wanking pretty regularly, it will probably take some days in the cage before I can fully appreciate it.

The cage is repaired. I bought new locks. I have my new toy. I might even have a new virtual keyholder. The stage is pretty much set. Now it's almost time to put players in motion for a run up to Christmas.

I'm reluctant to start, though. I'm still wishing Arwyn would get a clue, but this does not appear likely. I really do not want to celebrate 100 days of involuntary celibacy. I suppose locking up would be one way to short circuit that because then those locked up days would be voluntary, sort of. I'm also liking being up until midnight or longer by myself, blogging or playing games. I also like sleeping as late as possible. But these are not healthy for my relationship, so they are bad habits that the cage is well capable of bringing under control.

Note to self: Make sure to buy more toilet paper before embarking on this adventure.

I'll do it within 7 days for sure unless some catastrophic event takes place. Like passionate sex or some other fiction.

D.

Thanks for the Punany

11/23/2005

Wednesday

Am I going to have to be reading about what all of you are thankful for this week? Well, if you can't beat 'em…

-I am thankful for all of YOU! You have all lifted me up more than I could have imagined when starting this blogging lark.

- I am thankful to have ordered THIS.

- I'm thankful everytime I get a complete, clean flush.

- I'm thankful that my youngest is on the cusp of mastering potty training now that he is almost 4.

- I'm thankful for the health of both children.

- I'm thankful that my wife appears to be friendlier and more cordial

- I'm thankful for my health despite my own abuse of my body

- I'm thankful that we have two vehicles that are healthy

- I'm thankful for my vigor and passion.

Okay, there's a lot of other things, like air, food, water, house, clothes and money in the bank (at the moment) but I'm not ready to make another 100 list.

Entering into the holiday season, I'm ready to launch into some festive chastity cheer. The massager will arrive any day now, I've got the material to fix the cage and bought a couple of new locks. Hmm. The last time I was locked up correlates with the last time I had sex. Coincidence?

Hotel sex is always great. Even when it's by myself. I can lounge around naked without alarming anyone…almost anyone. My apologies to the maid, if she's reading.

And I can watch stuff on HBO that I normally would never get to see. Like an episode of Real Sex, where they had a Domme that specialized in latex. In addition to her latex demonstrations, it showed her dominating her cute little sub with some slapping, whipping and other domly activities. It was interesting watching the sub's face during some of the whipping and slapping. It was a look of pure bliss. This contrasted with the young woman who had latex painted on her. While the Domme liked applying the latex, it was clear that her favorite part was ripping it off, while her unsuspecting victim yelped. The latex suction bed was another definite favorite. He was rendered almost totally immobile and helpless while the Domme tickled him, making him squirm and writhe as much as he could.

The other part of the show I saw dealt with the Punany Poetry Society. This was an interesting and arousing segment dealing with African American women reading and acting out poetry celebrating African-American Punani. Apparently there's some disagreement about the definition of Punany. One guy claimed that the Indonesians translated it as "Rotten Pussy." A young woman took exception stating that the West Indian tranaslation meant "Sweet Pussy." That's about all the dialogue I caught, being more interested in the visuals.

Try this one at your family Thanksgiving dinner: "Please pass the punany."

D.

LJBF

Shoot. I feel bad about leaving everyone hanging, but I'm going out of town for a couple of days to take care of some business. Then there's Thanksgiving and all that.

Since deciding to leave town, there's little to no friction. Except for the frustration, of course.

Day 86, anyone?

Arwyn has said it in the past, and seems to be sticking to it now, where she says we have to go back to being friends before she can feel sexually attracted to me. She has shown some affection but nothing romantic or sexual. So, if she wants to just be friends, does that mean I can see other people?

Friendly intimacy is different than husband-wife intimacy. I don't remember God saying “Cleave to your wife and become one flesh after being friends for awhile.” We are either cleaving or we are not. Are we already cleaved together? Or were we ever?

This evening, I spent time trying to hit some of Arwyn's love languages, namely quality time and acts of service. I changed the oil in her car and then made chicken nuggets with onion rings for dinner…one of her favorites. Then we sat down and ate as a family and the kids actually did well tonight as opposed to the meltdowns of the past couple of nights. Then after they were put to bed, I spent time watching HGTV with her for a bit. She showed absolutely no inclination towards any romantic/sexual notions and ended up finishing up some housework before going to bed. I'm a bit put off by that.

If I'm going out of town for any length of time, I would think a smart wife might at least make some effort to contend for her husband by sending him off with a good memory to bring him back. I notice Desperate Husband's wife doesn't get this concept, either. Of course, a “Welcome Home” fuck would be just as effective provided there was some teasing or play over the telephone while away. But that isn't happening either. At least not with Arwyn.

I plan on doing some writing while I'm gone, but we'll see. You know how that goes.

D.

Battle of the Reptiles

11/19/2005

Saturday

Last night, the campaign continued. I debated about whether or not to give it a rest and decided to keep going forward. The Battle Over Breakfast was a very quick, but bloody skirmish involving some pretty harsh words. It was not very well planned but was executed well, on my part. At least that's what I still think. I leave it to you all to pick it apart and analyze it.

The War for Intimacy is progressing more slowly than expected. Today is day 84 without sex. This ties Desperate Husband's previous celibate streak which was finally broken 35 or so days ago. I know there are readers who have gone longer, and I've gone longer. But these have not been chronicled in a blog, so they don't count. You all can go back to late August archives and read about the last time I had sex.

Last night, the boys were in bed and Arwyn laid down, per her usual routine. I decided to see what I could start. She asked if I wanted any pie, as she has bought a pumpkin pie on her most recent shopping trip. But I had just eaten, so she padded off to grab piece while I brushed my teeth and read a few of you. When she returned, she turned out the light and we began talking.

My feeble mind can not remember everything that was said, sorry. Topics covered:

-Her attractiveness

-My attractiveness

-My selfishness

-Her selfishness

-The need for me to listen to her

- They way I'm generally treated e.g. me touching her and her touching me.

- Possible interventions

I can't remember exactly how we got into it or how it ended, but I'll try to cover the above topics.

The attractiveness bit started out with me touching her inner thigh as she lay in the inverted position. She moved my hand to her knee. I tried to hold her hand and she didn't want that, preffering to hold my wrist in such a way that I couldn't touch her. I commented that my hands must feel slimy and scaly. She replied that my hands were not slimy. A bit dry sometimes and rough, but not slimy. I commented that maybe my hands were scaly like a snake. She countered that snakes had smooth skin.

Not exactly affirming.

I then said maybe they were more like spider legs or something similarly creepy. She asked what was up with that analogy and I commented on how I felt like she was repulsed by me.

"I didn't say that."

Of course not in so many words, but her actions made me feel ugly and unattractive. She said she didn't feel like a beauty queen, and wasn't much to look at. I told her she was crazy. When I show her picture to others, they always remark how pretty she is. I asked if I made her feel unattractive and she said no. I told her liked every part of her. There were no parts I disliked or found unattractive. She asked about the fungus between her toes and I said that didn't turn me off at all.

My attractiveness is a different story. She said she liked my lips and my eyes. I guess the rest of me isn't worth so much.

I think we got into me touching her from there. She commented how heavy my arms were and I told her that I weighed exactly the same as when we got married. Maybe all my weight transferred. I also pointed out that she rarely ever touches me. Sorry, I can't remember the resolution of this topic. I'm not sure it was, but it was covered, just not with any depth.

Selfishness was something brought up in the previous battle and she brought it up again. I was ready. I asked her if it was selfish of me when after a long day at work, and after working late on a second job the I came home to make her dinner. No, she admitted. How about when I go to the store and buy her a favorite soft drink? No? How about me buying her favorite candy? No, not selfish again. All things done in the past week. Now, I asked…

"When was the last time you did something thoughtful for me?"

She thought. And she thought. Like Pooh Bear, in his thinking spot she thought some more. Think. Think. Think. The best she could come up with was making me a birthday cake almost a month ago. Perhaps I should have fired for effect then and there and asked her, Is that what I really wanted for my birthday? I wanted to fuck you and all I got was a lousy cake! It wasn't even my favorite cake. Not even in the top 5!

But I did not. This is not a war of conquest but of attrition. I let it go. But she was nailed on the selfish comment, and it turned and bit her in the ass. She knew it and I knew it. Hopefully we've put a stop to those comments if not that line of thinking.

The way we converse was a topic that was covered. She said sometimes she needs me to listen without judging and/or taking the opposing view. She admitted that like on many other fronts, I had improved on this. She admits that she sometimes gets off track and off on tangents but will eventually return. I pointed out that this was well and good, but me being interupted was unacceptable. If she pauses and I begin to speak she needs to hold off until it's her turn instead of running over the top of me. She had a harder time conceding this point. I told her that I would not tolerate a third occurance of this. She gets two freebies and then the conversation ends. She got indignant at this and I told her it was just rude, and rampant rudeness was unacceptable.

Towards the end of this discussion, she said she had no idea of what to do. It was like we were in some kind of stalemate.

We did a review of some things we've tried that fell flat. I invited her to come up with her own interventions or try some we had tried in the past, again. I was hoping she might mention the cage, since this really was something that held promise, albeit for a limited time. But that did not come up. In fact, sex was not a topic that was covered much at all. I held some hopes that she might get charitable, but she did not and it was quite late when our discussion concluded. Her idea of an intervention was for me to tell her what I wanted for dinner before I left for work, especially when working late so she could know what to make. I suppose it's better than nothing.

Arwyn commented that she did not know what to do and did not know how to access answers on what to do. I guided her by asking how she got information about autism. Same way we get answers for everything else; the internet! But she has not invested any time or effort in researching what to do with our marriage. If she spent half as much time looking into our marriage as she did with the mercury in vaccinations, the whole family would benefit from a more loving, secure environment.

The evening concluded with Arwyn actually laying with her head on my end of the bed, and her putting her hand on my back for a minute or so while I began drifting off to sleep.

Some progress has been made. There is generally less tension between us, but the lack of physical intimacy is still ahead for a major confrontation. I think her eyes are just beginning to open as to my unhappiness.

There are always openings in these discussions/battles for decisive strikes that would deal severely punishing blows. More often than not, I decline to deliver them. If I'm going to live with this person, I can't be delivering blows that would leave lasting scars and cause animosity and resentment. Been there, done that. This is a longterm struggle against forces that are mostly invisible. Arwyn's faults easily blend in and intermingle with her strengths. We need to work together to bring a lasting peace born out of her own self determination and her own volition. She needs enough freedom to discover whether or not she wants to continue to stay with me. Pulling out is always an option but one that can only be used once, for the most part.

In this, Square1 hit it in a comment on the last battle. There needs to be some trust building as well as some degree of security.

All of you had good comments. You all inspire me to become the hero of my own odessey by fighting the good fight. The odds are long, indeed. I'm not so sure I would still be engaged in this if it were not for you good folks hanging with me. I draw enough energy from you all to keep it up and then write about it. I'm conscious of the fact that I am the primary character in this adventure and if the pace gets slow, it is up to me to move things along. If my plot gets stale, I need to do something to liven it up. It's up to me to generate material worthy of your reading it. Sometimes my behavior drives my story. Sometimes the story drives my behavior. Which is how you, the readers become more than just observers. You are participants of a sort. Hope you don't mind me using y'all!

D.

Aftermath

11/18/2005

Friday

Oops! I had no idea but I left you all hanging loose, didn’t I? So let’s see if I can wrap things up.

After I asked her what she expected me to do, I did give her a hug and a kiss and told her that I loved her. She said, “I don’t feel like it, sometimes.”

I told her that love was not just some simple thing that worked like gravity. Leave it alone and stuff still happens. Actually, now that I think of it, apathy is like gravity. That is where things will decay to if left unattended and without investing any energy. I told her that it involved a willful choice, something we choose to do and work towards. Just sitting around and waiting for things to happen was unacceptable. I invited suggestions from her what I might do, and she didn’t really offer any. She merely complained that I didn’t spend any time with the kids and that we didn’t like to do the same things. I told her that preferences in hobbies and pastimes was acceptable. It’s okay not to like the same things.

But now it comes to me that she considers sex a hobby or pastime. Not something that needs to be done and certainly not if she doesn’t feel like it.

As far as the children and spending time with them, I told her that it was difficult to get too excited about it. Now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, it isn’t as much about them as it is about her. I’m much less inclined to spend time with her. I’d do stuff with them but not if it means having to do so on her terms which it always seems to be. So I’ve been inclined to let her go her own way.

I had to get going to work, and was late already. I gave her a hug and a kiss and left. We left on okay terms, I think. At least we had a better idea where the other person stood.

Last night I got home and had some short stuff to do on the computer, including grabbing as many posts by you all as possible. I then played with the kids, made a sandwich to eat while she gave them their baths. They had already eaten before I got home. One of the deals with working extra hours is that I get home later and the kids don’t do well eating later.

Next, I checked phone messages and we did miss one phone call so I went to tell Arwyn about it (it was from one of our friends) and gave her the phone. She was already in bed with the lights out. One of her chief complaints is that she never gats enough sleep. The kids’ sleep disturbances and my snoring being a primary culprit. Seems me going to bed much later would be in her interest as she could at least get *some* sleep uninterrupted. But she never told me she was going to bed. She was just there. There was no invitation to come in and talk or anything. So that was that. I finished reading various posts, did some other writing and then went to bed at around 11 which is somewhat early for me. This morning, the boys were up early so there was no opportunity to talk. The youngest had a serious meltdown as he wanted to ride the bus but it was not his morning to do so. I’m sitting naked, after my shower, trying to take a dump and I hear Arwyn “I NEED YOUR HELP RIGHT NOW!” Elmo is screaming his lungs out, fighting to get on the bus. I quickly threw some stuff on and went out to get him and had to do a bit of an intervention on him and then it was time to go to work.

So the short answer is, nothing much happened as a result of it. Nothing changed much. Not much of a resolution but I figure Arwyn and I need some time and space to digest this stuff. Then we will clash again. My take is that if we’re not making love then maybe we can make war. The War for Intimacy continues. It is a different kind of war, more like a war of attrition rather than one of conquest. The War on Debt is a war of conquest. The two struggles are intimately linked. The longer the former goes on, the more the latter becomes a war for independence and freedom. We need to be free from debt so that if I want to move out and set up an independent household, I can be free to do so. Right now, Visa and assorted other creditors own us. I wonder if I could convince them to sell one of us off?

Standing firm and strong is not an easy thing. Ever. I wonder sometimes about those who are forever urging me to leave. Is it really because it would be in my best interest? Or it because me sticking it out makes others less strong for choosing a different path? I don’t blame others who leave or even those having affairs. It’s only by God’s grace that I’ve been able to hold on. If I get His blessing for leaving, then I’ll do that. But falling off and slipping away to temptation is all too easy. I’ve fallen for enough temptations in the past I’m not throwing stones at others for whatever they get weighed down with.

D.

Battle over Breakfast

11/17/2005

Thursday

This morning I decided to continue the campaign in the War for Intimacy. This is the sort of war where you can’t wait for the other side to come to you, you have to go to them. And so it was. I began the morning thinking about exactly what I was going to do. Arwyn was in the shower, and I was laying in bed thinking about possible moves. I could join her (and get shooed off), I could wait for her to finish, and then come in. I could stay where I was and stroke myself off, which is what I really wanted to do since it’s been several days. The first choice expired as the water turned off, so I chose the second. I went into the bathroom as she was toweling off. While I brushed my teeth, she was combing her hair and trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. I gave her a hug that didn’t violate any of the touching rules and she gave me a quick kiss and scrambled out to begin the day. Then, only after she was gone, I stroked myself off. By the time I finished shaving and showering, the boys were on the bus and she was doing laundry stuff. We made a bit of small talk and then she went to hang stuff up while I finished eating. I followed her into the one of the boy’s rooms and there the battle began in earnest.

“Are you mad at me?” This is a typical opening move for me, because it does seem like she is perpetually angry at me, at least in her body language. She said she wasn’t, but she is always in a hurry in the mornings.

“Even for two minutes?”

“Well,” she said, “We can always talk after the boys get on the bus.”

I told her that this was for only 2 days a week, and that was unacceptable. I used the word “unacceptable” which seemed to throw her for a bit of a loop. Several times during our conversation/argument she told me to just leave and go to work. But I stood my ground. We needed to clear the decks.

I asked her if this is the way she wanted to live for the next 20-30 years and she said definitely not. I asked her what she was planning on doing about it, and she said she didn’t know. I told her that was unacceptable. She said she didn’t know if she wanted to keep trying. I said I was committed to continue trying to work things out, and that God hadn’t given me permission to step off, so I was going to keep at it. I was not going to just let things continue on this decaying trajectory until we both just withered away.

She said that all I ever think about was sex and commented on how absolutely selfish I was. I about laid an egg and coughed up a hairball on that one.

“When was the last time we had sex?” I asked.

“I don’t know. And I don’t really care because I just don’t want it.”

“When was the last time I asked you or pressured you for sex?”

She admitted that I had not been after her very much and went on to complain about me staying up and writing/reading all night. I returned fire with a complaint about her going to bed at 8 o’clock. “What do you expect me to do?”

This question was largely rhetorical. I told her that I was tired of being alone. I write because I feel like I am alone. I am lonely. She goes to bed at 8 and does not want to have anything to do with me. What am I supposed to do? I told her that sex once every 6 months was unacceptable. “Hurry-up-and-get-it-over-with” sex is unacceptable. She didn’t start bawling but was on the verge of tears the entire time. I told her I care enough to have this confrontation. We both HATE confrontations which is why this thing festers so often and for so long.

I’m going to continue for a bit extending some things that FTN had discussed, namely the Bible and Sex. Especially as it applies to my situation.

In Genesis, god creates the earth, the universe and all life. He creates a lovely garden. After each act of creation, he pronounces it good. He makes the stars and moon and says it is good. He creates the earth and says it is good. When he creates man, he says it is very good. Everything on the earth and in the garden is either good or very good. It was paradise. It was perfect. Except for one thing. There was one thing in the garden that was NOT good. Can you guess what it was?

No, it wasn’t the serpent. The serpent had yet to make an appearance at the one, single point where God pointed out that everything was good and perfect except for one thing. He said:

“It is not good for man to be alone.”

This seems like a funny thing for God to say, in hindsight. I mean, God was there! Was man really and truly alone? This is what church leaders and thoelogans like telling single people or folks in bad relationships. God is sufficient. But God, Himself, declared that it was not good for man to be alone. Interesting enough, God does try to negotiate some compromise in the deal by letting Adam name all of the animals. Maybe He was hoping a suitable companion might be found among them. But God quickly saw that these would not do. So, he put Adam to sleep, and formed a woman out of one of Adam’s ribs. A sort of cloning, if you will. Adam woke up and said “YOWZA! Bones of my bones and flesh of my flesh!”

Being alone is not good. Even in paradise. God said it straight away, almost as soon as he created man. We were not made to be alone. Notice that God did not take an extra rib, break it in half and then create some children for Eve. He could have. But God’s plan went far beyond children. The first teaching he ever gave them was that they would leave their father and mother and become one flesh. He didn’t say one spirit. He didn’t say one family. He didn’t say one village or one nation or one mind or one soul or one anything else. One flesh. What in the world was God taking about? Surely He couldn’t be talking about…SEX? No way!

Way.

This teaching is before the whole bit about being fruitful and multiplying. They are not mentioned in the same sentence or even the same paragraph. Sex was NOT about procreation. It was about intimacy, sharing, and unity.

This same section makes another point: they were naked and unashamed. The first thing these two characters did after eating the fruit was to hide themselves from God and hide themselves from their nakedness. God says, “What are you doing?”

They reply, “We were hiding because we were naked.”

Clearly, being naked and unashamed is closer to the original plan that God set before us than rather than being ashamed of our own bodies. Today, we do practice modesty but it is more for the sake of others rather than ourselves. Any guy who whips out his junk is going to get arrested! But in front of our spouses, in front of the one with whom we are supposed to be one flesh, this shame has absolutely no place. The insecurity people have over their own bodies is surely a scourge born in the Garden of Eden. Even didn’t want God or Adam to see that her butt was too fat. Adam was afraid Eve would laugh at his small penis.

Arwyn’s hang ups can probably be traced back to some form of insecurity. Those hang ups have become mine because we are supposed to be one flesh. Not that this union has been consummated with any sort of frequency lately. Without regularly reinforcing this bond, it is inevitable that it begins to weaken.

It’s not just about sex. But try going without food for 48 hours. What are you going to be thinking about? Oh, and every time to mention food or complain about how hungry you are, we add an extra day to your fast. And right before breaking the fast, we need to have a long talk about your obsession with food. Then we are going to break that fast with a buffet consisting of one glass of water and one slice of bread. Be nice and I might make it whole wheat. And if that is received with anything less than complete enthusiasm and gratitude, then we’re going on another fast. If you express appreciation, I might give you another slice of bread the next day. Kiss my ass extra tenderly and I’ll let you have some butter on your bread. If you get greedy, then I’m cutting back again because we don’t need you getting spoiled and getting a fat ass. Remember what happened to Eve?

Does this sound like God’s plan? Neither is it His plan that we simply bail when things get rough and hectic. If there was ever a couple who could have used counseling and cause to see a divorce attorney, it was Adam and Eve. She listened to the snake. He let her listen to the snake, instead of calling the exterminator. They both stood before God and heard Adam blame Eve, and then Eve blamed the snake. They got cursed and thrown out of paradise and spent the rest of their days carrying the guilt of screwing up the entire human race and all creation up. Later, one of their children murders the other. Talk about your marital stress! And they lived hundreds of years. Can you imagine carrying emotional baggage over a period of centuries??

Just comparing them to me makes me feel better already. Also, giving myself permission to decide what is and is not acceptable is also a positive step for me. I partially credit Supernanny for inspiring that one.

D.