The return of butterflies and indecision. . .  

IamWetFire 53F
739 posts
9/8/2006 6:27 pm

Last Read:
9/20/2006 3:23 pm

The return of butterflies and indecision. . .

Oh, dear God. . .

I know better. I mean, Faithful Readers, you know that I know that I know better, right? Smart fucking cookie that I am alleged to be.

My policy has always been when I am quits with someone I'm quits. Walk away with as little acrimonious behavior as possible and don't look back.

Kick me now. . .hard.

First I found his name in the recent visitors here in the Grotto. That sent a thrill straight through me. Then he winked. That put my body in motion even before the Godzilla Brain could catch up. Dialing his number. Hearing his voice and feeling it straight into the deepest part of me.

You'd think I had feelings for this guy. The "L" word might come to mind. That's what my two closest friends accused me of. Being in that horrifying state of insanity referred in the vernacular as "falling in love."

Please, would some kind soul pass the BIG bottle of Prozac my way. . .NOW!?


We're to IM later this evening.

The butterflies I can handle. It's that panicked feeling of indecision that is making me ache all over right now.

Am I being "codependent" now? Damn me and my high falutin' education all to hell anyway!! Merde!!! Schei├če!!!! Mierda!!!!!

The only thing I wanted at the moment his Navy business voice soften to that sweet, sexy one he always (well except the last couple of times) had when we spoke, was to forgive, forget and get on with the business of laying him across my big king-sized carved fruitwood bed and doing the horizontal tango until we passed out or died from ecstasy.

Traitor cunt. BiPolyBabe so brilliantly calls it thus. I thought I'd taken care of that mess. It's MY cunt after all. That whole Vagina Monologues business where we women were urged to take possession of the word and the organ.

So if I HAVE successfully corralled willful little Grizzabella the Glamour Cat into obedience. . .why is every part of me CRAVING this man right now.

It's not like he's the only one out there. The last three days have been an explosion of young, interesting men pursuing me, despite getting a pithy one-liner courtesy of yours truly.

Please give me a chance, oh you Goddess of the Orbs of Wonderment.

Of course my logical, Navy wife mind is already making the shopping list, the to-do list for myself and my beloved housekeeper/partner-in-gossiping-about-all-the-hot-guys, figuring which sheets I'll put on the bed and the clothes I'll have on when I open the front door, as if I'm preparing for his return from deployment.

If nothing else, life with Toad trained me to be excellent at Navy-Wifery.

Faithful Readers, send those kind gentlemen with the big net and the jacket that fastens in the back. Please?

OR. . .

Since I do know he actually meant all the things he said, but wasn't emotionally healed enough to deal with the reality of US. . .is it okay to give US another chance?

(Shut up, Grizzy. . .we all KNOW what you want, you insatiable feline!)

I don't think a couple of weeks could've given him much more of a chance to heal, but. . .perhaps if we take it very slowly,


and not scare each other half to death again and force some sort of blow up. . .again.

Am I rationalizing all this in order to satisfy what my Klingon blood brother, Karn, calls my "Inner-Chiana," (Non-Farscape fans. . .she's oftentimes referred to as one of the sweetest yet wildest sluts in the history of scifi), and my yoni, "Grizzy," or is my response an indication that yes, I actually do care for this man, want to honestly give him the benefit of the doubt, wipe the slate clean and give us and a relationship another try?

Even after reviewing this previous post about this situation ( WHICH IS WORSE You decide ), I still think it's the latter. That's what the wiggly feeling in my gut--and that suspicious ache located just slightly above my left breast--seems to be telling me.

And unfortunately, my rational, analytical Spock Brain has now metamorphosed into Animal-Oatmeal Brain.

}}heavy sigh{{

Oh, help. . .

kyplowboy22 62M

9/9/2006 6:47 am

"I don't think a couple of weeks could've given him much more of a chance to heal"...

But, it may have given him the incentive to re-evaluate his wounds and determine that it is time to get out of that bed of misery and into one of prospect. Apparantly you have given him the medicine he needs to live with the pain and he is ready to begin rehab therapy now. And we all know, he (or she) who hesitates is lost. Later


IamWetFire 53F

9/9/2006 9:28 am

Sweet KPB, how the hell did you get to be so wise, huh honey?

I'm hoping that's the case. I do know from our phone conversation last night that he is still needing to Top me. That's not good and I told him so. We can either be equals, or you can be my sub. I also warned him that I'm not comfortable with me who want to Top me because their are only 2 types: the ones who want a woman as strong as they are, or. . .like psycho from the other night, the need to break her. I've been broken. It won't happen again. That will get a guy Bobbitized. Period.

I got that stern warning that he's not like other guys. Neither was my first husband--the bottom who taught me just how dangerous it is to switch with an unstable person. So, I let it drop. I'm not getting that CREEPY AS HELL vibe from him anyway.

My one concern is dealing with someone so emotionally raw. If I didn't care--I've accepted it now, I do--it wouldn't matter. I'd write it off as a lesson. But this one is going to leave a big old bruise if it goes wrong.

He's again insisted on coming when I'm not really prepared--still getting over the pneumonia; yesterday was only a week since the diagnosis, and the house a bloody wreck as a result. But I relented. I mean, let's just get this thing going and take it for a test drive. He's planning to stay for a couple of days. That should at least give us the time to fuck it out, whatever "IT" turns out to be between us.

I do have the distinct advantage of that Navy Wife thing. Most divorced Navy men do prefer to have a former Navy wife because we do know the ropes. We aren't going to go cat shit when it's time for him to deploy for 6-9 months. Luckily, being a submariner, he only goes out for 2 months. Hell, that's a cakewalk. Of course, unlike surface/air Navy, they only pick up emails when they can surface for radio traffic. So, that's downside. But there again, not something that would make me turn into the shrew from hell and make emotional demands he can't possibly fulfill because of what he does and where he is. (Rule number ONE in the unwritten Navy Wife handbook: DO NOT UPSET THE MAN WHEN HE'S ON THE BOAT!!!!!) Since we all know Murphy's Law sets in motion everything that could possibly go wrong around the house and with the car the minute that boat steams away from the pier. . .and I've lived alone for nearly 4 years now. . .not a biggy either.

And, frankly, I DO prefer Navy men. It's a personal thing. My Dad was Navy. I was. Toad was. Stephen (B) is, as are several of my friends, their husbands and wives. I live in a Navy town, 3 blocks from a base. It's a lifestyle choice for me. And, for the most part, these guys are conservative Christian Republicans like myself (Oops, I outed myself! ), so none of that icky conflict stuff over breakfast or in the bedroom over politics.

I do fear what you described as his rehab therapy. Maybe it's a Southern thing and you might identify with it, but my family taught me to heal myself and carry my own damned water without help. That's why I say folks need to step back and not become romantically involved for ONE YEAR following a divorce. You've got a lot to heal, no matter how amicably it ended. And that is best done by dealing with yourself, not stuffing it while courting someone new. I know. . .I made a lot of mistakes trying to regain my equilibrium following the end of the Toad and I.

I spoke with him about it last night--of course we were both sort of out of it. . .since we got each other so revved up it culminated in phone sex. I told him we need to be very careful with each other. I said that I tend to ask (A LOT) if the person I'm with is okay. I want to test the temperature in the room and give them the opportunity to say what's on their mind because communication is a MUST HAVE, and I do know this isn't all about me. And I do NOT want to walk on eggshells myself again either! I shouldn't have to treat the man in my bed and my life like some WWI minefield! I'd rather be alone the rest of my life than live one minute that way ever again.

I'm just hoping his agreement with this is real and not his overwhelming need to fuck my brains into the next century. That animal passion is there between us. That tends to cloud things very badly. Add to that the fact that he's gotten inside my barriers and made me care. That alone is HUGE. . .because as I've said here and told him numerous times: THAT IS NOT ME. Not caring is a gift given me from my history of abuse. It's just not in me. But. . .well, now it seems to be.


I'm trying to shake off that "heading for another big fall" sensation.

And I'm babbling. . .again. . .hypergraphia due to anxiety!

Anyway. . .

Thank you dear, wise KPB. I do so value your words. . .and you! You're a good friend.

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