Itch

Spring is sprung, ‘cuz my eyes are watering like fountains, I feel like I’ve got steel wool behind my eyelids, and I can barely peer out of them to this screen.  Plus I’m sneezing.  That’s the most obvious itch that’s going on.

But there’s another itch, underneath, inside, an itch that’s been growing for a while, something I can’t even really put a name to. It may have partly to do with some things going on in the relationship right now, partly to do with age, partly to do with the fact that I’ve been doing the same job now for about 5 years, and that’s a long stretch for me to be at one job. Maybe it’s because it’s spring here, suddenly, with things popping out of the ground all over the place, and we’re planting seeds and they’re emerging, and maybe some new part of me wants to emerge, too.

There’s the “S” word. Sex. Yes, there I said it.  Like pretty much all couples, our sex life was great at the beginning, fabulous, wonderful, eye opening and mind blowing. We can do that with and for each other.

Then G confessed that “the period” for reasons of the past that I won’t elaborate on, is literally gag inducing for her.  Great.  I thought that being with a woman, it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but you can’t possibly feel sexy when you know that certain sights and smells make your partner heave.  Fun.

But then, she’d nuzzle around me, and flirt and tease, during that time, and here I am thinking–why are you doing that when you know if I respond it’s going to turn you off? So, that was a bit aggravating.

Then there were the various knee/hip/back problems.  I completely understand.  Pain is not an aphrodisiac–well, SOME kinds of pain are, I suppose, but not the systemic chronic pain associated with old injuries.  Anyway.  In my 2nd marriage I was completely celibate for 7 years.  Yes, folks, SEVEN years.  So, I am well versed in subliminating certain “urges”.  And a great relationship isn’t just about the sex.  I know this totally.

G has always been very forthcoming with how she feels about me and about my body. I feel blessed to be with someone who really thinks I am HOT STUFF.  But recently, I guess it’s been her turn. I’ve been more “frisky” and she’s just kind of “Eh, whatever.”  I know that part of it stems from the fact that often times, she just really has no feeling below the waist.  Nerve damage.  Or she will get certain feelings but they are very intermittent and fleeting.

We’ll get to “that point” and then all of a sudden…poof!…the thrill is gone.  I’m also lucky that she gets (or has gotten) a lot of pleasure from seeing me turned on.  She loves to watch my body respond to her touch, etc.

But for almost a year now we’ve also been battling the stomach stuff.  Not sexy to feel like your partner could throw up on you at the drop of a hat.  Again, no blame placed, it simply is a situation.

I’m just feeling a bit…I don’t even know the word…constricted? Restrained? Frustrated?  Deprived? All of them or none of them, I don’t know.

Here’s what I think the itch is…I would like to be in a place, anywhere, a bar, the library, a store, and see someone…at this point it could be a man or a woman…and a few words or looks are exchanged and there’s that SPARK, that flash and I drag them into a dark corner and fuck them cross-eyed, leave them gasping in the dirt and go home.  I think I just want that. I quick, hard fuck.  I don’t want to arrange anything or have a lot of foreplay (just enough), or ever know if they were satisfied or not.  I just want to get mine and get out. No explanations and no apologies.

No wonder women think they’re going nuts in menopause!  I think it’s time for Lady Gaga and the bicycle in the garage.

Later.

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2 thoughts on “Itch

  1. Yep. I feel you on this one. Wish I had an answer, or even a suggestion. Other than getting yourself off from time to time.

    Life and love are complicated.

  2. Just enough foreplay? Oh, no, no, no. One play, two play, MAYBE three play. (But I seriously doubt it.) But, no foreplay!

    We were vacationing in Provincetown, MA, we decided to get married at their beautiful City Hall. I tried and thought I negotiated an agreement to add an extra night of lovemaking to each week. I think it was going to be Wednesdays. After we got home, I snuggled up to her in the bed one night and she immediately whined, “I can’t. I’m too tired.”

    “it’s ok, baby. This is only Monday.”

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