I just felt like I had to let him go.

Either we would be great or we would be nothing.

Women and Orgasms And the Skill of Licking

"You know, I've only slept with two women, so I don't know..." I look to him to see if he's following me. "But aren't women harder to get to orgasm than men?"

"Not if you know what you're doing," he responds coolly and confidently. 

I laugh at this.

In the Eyes of the Public

I ran through the list, assuming he'd say no to all of them. "Okay, holding hands while walking down the street?"

"Yes," he says. 

"Yes?" I'm a little shocked. "How about kissing in public?" 

"Yes."

"Really?"

Hard On My Mood, and Not the Good Kind of "Hard" Either

This week predictably has been hard on my mood (or is it technically last week? Sundays are so confusing). I've noticed a dip. Yesterday, I woke up feeling surprisingly depressed, and only after I walked the dog (Beck) that I noticed a little shift.

"Do you want me to show you all the TXT-messages I sent you?" I say to Morpheus as we're both sitting on the couch. 

"Yeah, but you never call me! What am I? Twelve years old."

"I called you...twice, I think," I respond weakly.

Earlier in the night, as we were sipping wine, he said, "Where we are right now is my fault."

I told him that it wasn't true. At one point, he told me that he didn't want to deal with the twenty-somethings because of the "drama."

I said, "What do you think I am? I'm tons of drama...." Shit, if I was that great at relationships, I would have been married years ago--I'd be on my second child by now. Obviously, something is wrong with me (yes, seriously, it's called schizoaffective disorder). I honestly don't expect any man to put up with me for long, that includes Morpheus. Is that sad to say? Perhaps, but it's how I genuinely feel. A lot of my friends, I just stopped talking to because I was too depressed, I had nothing to say, I didn't feel like I was even alive enough to hold a conversation. Not surprisingly, most of my "friends" disappeared once the symptoms increased. But a few tolerated me, spoke to me despite the fact that often I didn't respond, and I love them for it. Now, I'm trying to reach out to the people who have been there for me in the past, like Amara and Brandon and, of course, Rosa.

Posing in Anger

I see anger as the most destructive force in long-term romantic relationships, mostly clinging to this view because my parents (especially my mother) only know how to express discontent. Surprisingly, despite the lack of word-based affection, they still hold hands while walking TV (sometimes), and still occasionally kiss each other.

I have a personal rule, which is more like a guideline that doesn't hold up well when it's supposed to be at its strongest, to never say anything in anger. Obviously, for those of you who read, you know that I lost my temper with my Grandma, and told her plainly, "Fuck you" because she wouldn't stop making up nonsense about how she would remember better if she paid attention, but she doesn't care enough to pay attention so she forgets--and on and on.

So, expressing anger towards Morpheus is a delicate aspect of the "arraignment" (as I defined it, he even went as far to say that we were "boyfriend and girlfriend," a determination that I don't agree with). I have spouted harsh words towards him, but as far as I can remember, I've never made any kind of personal attack, i.e., you're the world's biggest asshole (but, as may be predicted, I have had that thought over the past couple of days).

As we know from studying psychology, anger has its uses, primarily for self-protection. If we never got mad, then we would never stop people from using us, from being mean to us, taking advantage of us, and on and on. So, identifying anger in a relationship is a good start, but what to do about it?

Unfortunately, at least in me, and honestly, look, people--in you too--I have this desire to take revenge when I've been hurt by someone else. To even up the score, which is seductive. From that viewpoint, me blocking Morpheus looks like retaliation for him sending my calls straight to voicemail (a feature I haven't been able to figure out on my Galaxy S7 Edge). And maybe, that's at least partially true.

The main driving motivation is self-protection. How can I stop myself from being emotionally injured? If we really looked at the relationship as a whole, over almost ten years (will be ten in August), there was a lot of bad, and just hours inbetween of bliss. Is that really enough? The Morpheus I hold onto in my head is much more alive than the real, physical man walking around, paying his taxes, taking care of his kids, and then screwing blonde twenty-somethings. And, of course, who is this Morpheus? I read an article about the three key ideas to keep in mind when striving for a successful, long-term, romantic relationship. One of those features is "positive illusion," that you think your partner is really better, sexier, smarter, kinder, etc, than he/she truly is. This is a good thing. This keeps marriages alive.

I don't know if its healthy to be married to someone who drives you to the lowest depths of despair, and then moments later, days later, lifts you up to the height of ecstasy.

The Questions Left Unanswered

On April 12th, sometime in the night, I'm standing, leaning against the wall, just inside of the door, and I'm clutching myself. At some point, I must have cried because when I returned home and looked into the mirror, my expensive, brand name mascara was smudged under my eyes. I said to him, "What are we going to do?" I had the voice of someone who is growing panicked. All I want to do is avoid the pain of leaving him for months at a time.

He motions at me with his hand. "We're going to sit down on the couch, and we're not going to have sex..."

"No, I mean, what are we going to do after this?"

This is the question he refuses to answer, no matter how I pose it, no matter how I manipulate it. He will not tell me the rules and the regulations of our engagement with each other, he will not plan with me ahead into the future. Because to give into the future, one has to commit to a certain vision of the future, and how can one do that when his/her heart has been broken over the same illusion? 

A Review of Email Manners

So, I did invite the English instructor to the party for the annual literary journal at college. I told him that I owe him since he did much to encourage my writing.

While I was in COMM class, arguing with my professor about biological determinism (bullshit) and about Trump (more bullshit), the English instructor sent me an email back. He was very polite, and even paid me a compliment. He said that he didn't know if he could attend or not, but he would try to make it.

I seriously hesitated about writing him again--most days, I think about shooting him an email (I still think about him every day), but--there's nothing worse than this--I didn't want to come across as being creepy or crazy or to make any unwanted advances (come on's are perfectly acceptable in any situation if the two people deem it so, minus those who are too young to give full consent). There is definitely a line that can't be crossed, or if it is crossed, the two people are holding hands while they do so. In many instances, women have the edge on this situation because if we hit on a man, even one in power or has higher status, it is usually not considered intimidating or threatening. Because we are women, and men should always take sex whenever offered (to not do so means that they aren't men). Plus, as one of the students in COMM mentioned, women are just generally smaller and are not as strong as your average man; therefore, a woman is less likely to overpower you and rape you.