It’s been a rough time for my man lately. Life has been kicking him really hard in all of the most vulnerable places. It’s been a lot. He copes admirably, but I see the strain of it all having its impact on him. It’s very difficult to watch, particularly from a distance. I’ve wanted to get in the car and go to him several times, but it just hasn’t been practical. Though I’ve offered anyway.
I’ve asked him how I can best support him. What he needs from me right now. His answer is always the same: exactly what I’m already doing. Be present. Be real. Hear him, listen. Hold space.
I can do all of those things, with almost no effort. In fact, I do them all the time, regardless. So, I’ve been struggling with feeling like it’s not enough. I want to do more. At a time when he may need extra, I want to give extra. But that’s my shit, and not his. We’ve had some really productive conversations about it, and he’s given me so much reassurance that what I’m doing is enough, that I am enough. I have some guilt about needing that reassurance from him, but I’m very grateful for it.
After I was so needy during last month’s PMDD episode I have been actively trying to need him much less. He is providing support to just about everyone close to him at the moment, and I don’t want to add to that pressure. I’ve told him that. I said I want to be a happy and peaceful place for him right now. He responded that I am, that I’m a very shiny part of his life. One of the most shiny. Fuck, that was so lovely to hear. I just want everything to be shiny for him. He deserves that.
We saw each other a couple of weeks ago. Spent a weekend in OKC in a cute arts district. It was wonderful. We ate delicious food, watched movies, went for walks. And, of course, had some truly glorious sex.
The second night there, our sex got very heated. I was on my period, and it was heavy, so we focused entirely on anal – which we both love. We got super into it. When that happens, I call it ‘beast mode’, it is hard, rough, primal, FUN. Getting to that headspace during anal was a first for us, and I enjoyed the fuck out of it! But, eventually, I was worn out, exhausted, drained. For the first time in my life, I called it. I asked him for a break. And, of course, he stopped immediately.
I felt guilty for that. Old traumas and societal influence hit hard sometimes. He had been close to climax, and I had stopped him. I felt bad. He didn’t. Again, it’s my shit and not his. We snuggled up and rested. We were done for the night. He was sweet and caring. He said he wasn’t surprised I needed a rest; he had been pounding my ass, hard, for at least half an hour. He had enjoyed himself thoroughly, and I had nothing to feel bad about. We took a selfie together afterwards, both entirely fuck drunk. I’m going to add it to the end of this post.
It is telling that I have so much appreciation for a reaction that is really just basic human decency. A reaction I would have myself if the roles were reversed. But I do appreciate him immensely. His healthy approach to just about everything is a breath of fresh air. I love this man deeply.
When he had some very difficult news a week ago, I wanted to go to him but it wasn’t an option. So, I wrote him a letter instead. Telling him how wonderful he is, how I see his struggle, how fortunate anyone is to be loved by him, and how lucky I am to be counted among those people. He read that letter last night, and I was gratified to hear that he found it helpful. That it had made him emotional. That it had been exactly what he needed to hear. I couldn’t give him my physical comfort, so I gave him my words. Sometimes, they are all I have, and I will give him as many as it takes.
This relationship is an incredibly shiny part of my life, too. I am so grateful to have it. I don’t know if I could ever adequately express just how grateful.
Fat and Slutty 