April 30, 2012

ELIZABETH ROSE

Have the courage to be sincere, clear and honest. This opens the door to deeper communication all around. It creates self-empowerment and the kind of connections with others we all want in life. Speaking from the heart frees us from the secrets that burden us. These secrets are what make us sick or fearful. Speaking truth helps you get clarity on your real heart directives.—Sara Paddison

My self indulgent diarisation of a first foray into girlfriendhood continues unashamedly today. I am of the opinion that since I have spent the last few years sharing the comic aspects of my sex life, I can now share the tragic.

Actually, it’s no longer tragic. There has been an upswing in the bedroom situation; literally as it turns out. My darling Handyman and I have previously enjoyed sex of a monumental nature. As I have already confessed, in developing all these pesky feelings after spending time convalescing in his company, it became a little more difficult to be my usual carefree self between the sheets.

This all changed yesterday. Hallelujah.

It started with a kiss, as all good songs, stories or pornos should. As we were getting a bit hot and heavy he mentioned how the recently reinstalled love swing must be gathering dust. I was hesitant at first as it was the cause of my prior injury, but it has always been a favourite toy so I didn’t take much convincing.

He strapped me back in and I suddenly felt invincible. All the neuroses of the past weeks fell away as we revisited some of our past abandon. It was divine. It was better than ever, because besides being fun and feeling ever so naughty, there was meaningful eye contact and very real feelings of closeness! I even remember thinking that if we can manage intimacy while I am suspended ass up from the ceiling, we’ve got this “relationship” thing covered.

When we finished, and he has finally stopped teasing me by spinning my helpless form around like a piñata instead of releasing the straps, we head back to bed for some of the dirty C word…

Cuddling (another new item in my repertoire).

And I feel joyous, like a weight has been lifted and all is well in the world once again.

As we are cuddling he decides to bring up the recent difficulty we seem to have been experiencing during our naked time. (FYI: We are both of English heritages, so communicating beyond small talk is a cultural challenge, but regardless he attempts it sometimes. Having spent years sharing my most depraved thoughts and experiences with the dear readership of Met Another Frog, I am now surprisingly open to deep and meaningful, so long as I don’t have to initiate them (still feels quite alien and a bit too Oprah for me). I stumble over my words. I don’t meet his eye. I say a lot of nothing. Then he pulls my chin up and gives me an understanding (and ever so slightly patronising) look as he highlights the fact that in all my ramblings I have talked about my worries and my feelings and my experiences while talking about our sex life. He makes an all too valid point that there are two of us now and rather than that being a bad thing – where I lose focus on myself in the act and let it stress me – it is a good thing, because we can solve any problems that come up together.

So, sweaty and sticky from fucking in the love swing, the two of us talked and figured some stuff out.

Team Awesome (I’ll work on our couple name…) came to the conclusion that it all dates back to the new terminology of “making love”. When this first came up, I joked and insisted that if we couldn’t fuck anymore then we should bone because I don’t know how to make love. Turns out I wasn’t far off the mark…In my psyche, making love should be something serious, silent and slow. Fucking is fun, varied, noisy and oftentimes hilarious. By jumping back into the swing, I’d been able to return to sex for the fun of it. And while I was working my way through all of that, he’d seen my change in sexual attitude as some resistance to monogamy or even second thoughts, and was afraid to address it, in case the end of such a conversation was the end of us.

I tell you, my dear readers – this whole relationship lark is quite the social experiment for me.

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