Monday, July 17, 2017

Poetical

I'm grieving loss of my youth as my virility and stamina wanes. 

Seeing it all grey, and less than half empty.

No youthful passionate risky sex, not at ten thousand feet, nor the soft grassy ground.

No long-haired head casually tossed to one side innocently. 

No short skirt view offered for my  guiltless pleasure.

Man Up

So, I did wonder once if my self-worth was wrapped up in my sexuality, and I remember thinking in the back of my head somewhere distant and unformed the thoughts, 'what would it do to me if I can't 'perform'?   Well twice in one weekend it happened.  First I'm angry that I can't "get my nut" selfishly.  Then I feel guilty that I'm being so selfish and feel bad that she's not enjoying it anyway, but putting up with me and my needs--and I'm wasting her time.  That awareness that she's not into it is part of what put me off and stopped me being able to climax.  Plus I'm missing the very physical benefits that come from her being turned on and engaged and enjoying it.



So, I need to think more before revving up my engine if she's not into it.  I need to say, 'no' or not expect her to say yes if it's not really gonna work.  Sigh.   It always comes back to decreasing our sex, decreasing my expectations, doing it less often, hearing 'no' more and not expecting it as much.  Sigh...

So if she's not really up for it, I shouldn't expect to "get whatever I can" as it's oddly reminiscent of her being a masturbation toy.  Yikes.  That's not loving.

The fact that she's gained weight does come to mind, but I really know that's not what this is about.  Even if it's related, it doesn't matter as I can't say anything to her that's going to be constructive.  I need to be the man.  That's kinda the answer in all this:  be a man, feel the pain, do the right thing through it.


gone gone gone

I've let go of another fantasy.  i write this on a flight home from Ireland.  Just returned to my seat from the loo (toilet).  As i was in there, I accepted that it is too small, to smelly, and not private enough for passion.
So, I let go of ever joining the Mile High Club.  It was easy.  I didn't feel angry nor do I expect to miss it.

The whys are plenty, but they aren't really the reason I let go.  Probably a gift from Him that I'm able.
what am I letting go of?  The hope for excitement and an encounter that symbolizes that I am Really really desired.  enough passion to risk embarrassment, social disapproval.  So much passion and desire that usurps common sense.

For every thing I let go of, there is more freedom to enjoy than loss.  It takes some bravery and trust to see it that way.