When I got home from work last night, I had worked out and was physically tired. However, getting in better shape and working out does help me mentally and emotionally and I find I’m more resilient under pressure. I’m going to need every bit of it.
Qrwyn started earlier in the week working on me and trying to talk me into going to her church with her and boys for Good Friday services. I was very reluctant, but she voiced how this was important to her and I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if I went. I’m willing to sacrifice in order to make my wife happy and, even though I was tired, this would be a comparatively minor sacrifice. It was a lovely service that included all the kids and it really did fit the mood and tone of the evening, where they showed some clips from the Mel Gibson movie set to music. Pretty graphic for the youngsters and was probably the most violent thing MY kids have ever seen. But they did really well, despite some yawning toward the end. I don’t many people at this church, but I do like the ones I do know and the music they sang was from more traditional hymns that I actually knew the tune for and the words were on the big screen. They did have the big wooden cross in front and had everyone take communion in front of it. It suitably marked the occasion which I should probably blog about but will leave that for others more capable than me.
Which might be pretty much everyone.
We got home and it was past the boys’ bedtime so they were quickly put to bed. I was sitting in a chair just thinking, and Arwyn sort of sidled up and said, “Are you just going to sit there all night?”
I was tired in anycase, and got ready for bed. Then Arwyn stated her intention to go to sleep.
It wasn’t even 9:00 so I considered the possibility of going back to the computer for a bit as if I go to sleep before 10, I’ll be up at 4. But I decided that we at least needed to talk. My opener was to ask her how long it had been since she was baptized, “Almost exactly a year ago, right?” She stated that it was. Regular readers might remember that it was also around this time when we had sex for the first time in over a year and what would turn out to be the last time in over a year. I also asked her about the ENQ and she said she intended to fill it out. Hopeful sign there.
We were both lying in bed, holding hands and then embraced and kissed for a bit. I was stroke=ing her back and hair and she was stroking my back. This went on for quite awhile and I was feeling less tired and more aroused. She said she wanted me to talk, but I was at a loss as to what she was after. So we talked a bit about the church service and then she asked the question, “Do you ever feel like you’re at war with God?”
Funny question, but I was keen to answer. Basically, yes. At times, it seems like God is a very sadistic Being who seems to put an enormous premium on suffering. The Bible is all about people who have suffered at the hands of other people, at their own hand or even at His hands. Whether or not God causes suffering can be questioned, but unquestionably He allows it and uses for His own purposes. So, yeah, I struggle and grapple with God on any number of fronts. However, I also subscribe to the view that a lot of the suffering we endure is largely of our own making as our fight with God is more of a fight with our own selves.
She seemed satisfied with this and didn’t really follow up accept to stress the importance of trusting God.
There was more intermittent kissing and hugging and general making out. I wanted to make love to my wife this night. As my hands wandered under her shirt, one hand got into the forbidden zone which would be anywhere near a nipple. She grabbed my arm and moved it away and I asked her why. She said it made her feel uncomfortable.
There was a long period of silence interrupted when she announced she had to turn off some lights and take a decongestant. when she returned some minutes later we sort of resumed the kissing and then she said she was tired. After some silence, I asked her, “How can you say that you’re interested in sex? I don’t get it because you don’t seem to ever want it!”
She said she was interested in only having good sex. Which led to the next burning question, “Just what exactly would good sex look like to you?”
“Well, I can’t go for an hour. An hour would be too long.”
“Okay, an hour is too long for you. That still doesn’t tell me what good sex looks like for you.”
“Well, I’d like to be satisfied>”
“Oh, you mean you’d like an orgasm!”
“And that’s been a problem for pretty much most of our marriage.”
“And you’ve gone on our entire marriage without mentioning this?”
“Because you were afraid of hurting me?”
“Yes, that’s a big part of it.”
She was not telling me anything I didn’t already know or suspect, anyway. I was past being hurt by that. But the next round did put me squarely in the two-choice dilemma.
“So you want to have more orgasm?” I asked, trying to reinforce the point.
“Yes, but I don’t want them through your hands, through your mouth pr through any mechanical means.”
“Which pretty much means only through intercourse.”
“Only about 1 in 5 women have orgasms that way.” I countered. I was pulling the statistic out of the air, or so I thought. As it turns out, I was just about right. (that’s the youtube link, here’s one to the text.and here’s one byDr. Phil.
” I have had them in the past.”
“Well yeah, when you and your partner were both younger and in better shape. We’re both older now, and in different shape. ” I did not point out that I was in better shape than I was when we got married or that the pubic bone she liked grinding up against was now more exposed for her enjoyment thanks to the weight loss.
But I went in a different (and perhaps predictable) direction. “Have you ever had an orgasm with me?”
“Have you ever faked an orgasm?”
“I don’t think so.”
“So you want good sex, where you have orgasms, but if it isn’t just intercourse, you don’t want it. You don’t want me to use my hands because it makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“So that’s why you’re uncomfortable using your hands on me.”
“Yeah, that’s a lot of it.”
“So if I ever got injured or paralized, sex would pretty much be over.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
It’s now midnight, she’s tired and I am frustrated beyond words. Sex tonight is out.
As she falls asleep, I lie awake, wondering what the future holds for us. It seems impossibly bleak to me beyond words. Basically, I’m not going to have much of a sex life (if any) with this woman unless she decides to change. She shows no signs of changing or maturing or developing sexually. I’m changing the things I can within myself and I do try to do things she likes but she seems unwilling or unable to reciprocate. She wants orgasms but is unwilling to to let me out of the procrustean bed in order to accomodate her.
So basically, I can
a. Stay with her, and totally sacrifice my sexuality and my integrity as a sexual person but my family remains somewhat intact
b. Leave her, and sacrifice my family but keep remnants of my sexual integrity
Or wait around hoping that an option c becomes available.