It's been a while ...

For those of you who were concerned about my sudden disappearance from the blog world, rest assured that all has been well. I took a step back from the computer both because it was a healthy thing for me to do, and because I didn't really have anything to say. Much of the angst that has made up this blog has disappeared.

My life has been calm, and I think that I have finally accepted the fact that things will never be the way they were before, because I will never again trust the way I did before. But despite how that sounds, I do trust my husband and I have not been feeling jealous or insecure for a little while.

I'm smiling again. I'm starting to be more like the old me. The sex is good, but even better, DH and I are starting to be friends again. Best friends.



So why have I suddenly returned to my obscure little secret blog? Because I woke up this morning with a very vivid dream about the object of my husband's affair.

The dream was very simple, just a phone call between DH and TOW. In it, she told him that her divorce was final, and that her exhusband was going to have their kids every other weekend - Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Therefore, she would be free if there was a time that they could get together. Then, in the dream, my DH informed her that I was working this Friday and our kids are away at camp. They made plans to get together, and then they hung up.


That's it. That's the whole dream.


Normally I have wild, outrageous dreams - full of color, sound, scent and feelings. This one, though, was oddly stark, and felt even more powerful because of it. I know it was just a dream, and yet I can't shake this feeling. I'm actually considering calling in sick to work on Friday, despite the fact that I know that I'm being ridiculous.

I thought I was doing better. I thought I had achieved some equilibrium.



It's been a while, but sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Restlessness

There are days when I am happy, busy, and everything seems like it is going to be fine. There are days when I am sad, frustrated, and I think that my world is about to implode. But more and more lately, there are days where I am indecisive, antsy, and my mind starts to race. It's as if I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel restless.

I never used to be this way. I have always been the type of person who loved solitude and quiet time. As a small child, I could spend hours playing with stuffed animals. By the time I hit school, I had begun a love affair with reading that sticks with me to this day. In college, I learned to meditate, and I used to have an amazing ability to completely clear my mind and enjoy the peace.

But lately, if I am not either physically or emotionally busy, I feel fidgety. I am itchy for something to do. My mind starts going through all sorts of 'what if' scenarios. What if DH is still cheating on me? What if we are never going to be better? What if I never feel whole again?

I know that this is the opposite of healthy, and I wish I could make myself stop. But I can't seem to find that calm quietness inside of me anymore.

I can make that edgy feeling go away if I am active, and it disappears when I am feeling any strong emotion. It doesn't matter if I am happy, sad, or angry. Sex is also a wonderful diversion, but since that tends to be my cure for everything, I'm sure none of you are surprised.

But no matter what I do during the day... or even into the night, there are always those quiet minutes, laying in the dark, waiting for sleep to come. Those are the hardest moments. Waiting for rest and becoming restless.

What I Need to Be Happy

I met with Kathleen again today, and we discussed happiness.

I have always considered myself a very happy person. I used to always have a smile on my face to the point that my mother warned me that I was going to develop wrinkles from constantly scrunching my face.

Then, for many months after I found out about DH's affair, I completely lost the ability to smile. It was as if the muscles in my face were paralyzed by the shock.

Now, I am finding my smile again. When I am at work, I am back to my old smiley self. With the kids, I am laughing the way I used to. In social situations, I am once again "the happy one". But with my husband, I have not found that happy place yet.

It's not that I'm unhappy, it's just that I don't have the same sunny outlook with my marriage that I feel in the rest of my life. I used to, and I can't help but worry that it isn't bouncing back.

So Kathleen decided to have me do an exercise. She asked me to name the top five things that I need to be happy in my marriage. She didn't want me to think about it; I was just supposed to name five things off the top of my head. Here's what I came up with:

1. Love

2. Trust

3. Security

4. Acceptance

5. Touch

We then discussed the reasons behind my answers. The only answer that surprised her was touch, but for me that's a biggie. I need the physical reassurance of holding hands, or cuddling, or hugging, or playing footsie. Even just sitting next to DH with our legs casually touching makes me feel more centered and secure.

The answer that I didn't give which surprised her was monogamy. Apparently, after surviving marital infidelity, that's high on most people's lists. But honestly, that isn't something I need for happiness. If my husband had been honest with me from the start, I might have agreed to some version of an open marriage. Unfortunately, at this point we don't have the trust that that sort of marriage requires.

Kathleen wants me to spend some time this week thinking about which of those the things on my list I already have. She also wants me to really think about whether or not I am willing to allow myself to receive the other items on my list. My happiness is, after all, my responsibility.

But it's hard to trust when you are still afraid.


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Now, I think it's time for group therapy. What are the five things that you need to feel happy in your marriage? How many of them do you think you have? Do you think there's something missing from your list that most other people have on theirs? Do you think this whole therapy thing is a bunch of crap?

Enquiring minds want to know. I want to know!

Ms. Inconspicuous

Being that over 50% of the hits on my blog daily are referred from The Seduction of Infidelity, I am sure that everyone reading my blog knows that Ms. Inconspicuous is leaving the blogging world, at least for the foreseeable future. I am one of an incredible number of people who are going to sorely miss her blog.

I know that this must seem odd, especially considering that I have been rather vocal on this blog about how hurt I was by my husband's cheating. But, it is very difficult to read her blog without being drawn in by the beauty of her writing, and then ensnared by the thoughtfulness of the content.

I have never met, chatted with, or spoken to Ms. Inconspicuous, but about a year ago I did exchange a couple of emails with her, although not in the blogger persona that I am currently using.

I came across the Seduction of Infidelity when I was searching through my husbands computer, and I found that he read her blog on a semi-regular basis. I went to the blog fully intending to hate everything about it, but wanting to see if DH was leaving comments on a regular basis.

The first post I read was about how Ms. I loved her husband, and yet thought that she was a better wife because of her extramarital activities. This struck a chord with me, because at that point the pain of my husbands affair was literally overshadowing every aspect of my life. I can't remember if I left a comment, or if I emailed her first, but I had to understand how she could possibly bring those diametrically opposing views into harmony in her mind. I hope that I was polite in the way that I worded my questions, but I have long since deleted those emails, so there is no way for me to know.

Ms. I wrote back to me the very next day, and in a very short email, laid the first stone in the foundation that I needed to build to allow myself to believe that my husband still loved me despite his affair. I don't remember exactly what her words were, and I would never even begin to try to recreate them, but I do remember her saying that despite her actions, she would be destroyed if she found out that her husband was having an affair.

I never left another comment or sent another email to her after that short exchange, but I did start to read her blog on a nearly daily basis. While I often disagreed with some of her justifications, I loved the fact that her posts almost always made me think.

Many, many months later, when I started to blog, I was shocked to find out that she was reading some of the things I wrote, and unbelievably flattered to be put on the sidebar of her blog. The comments she left for me here were as well written and thoughtful as the posts on her blog, and I always appreciated her taking the time to write them.

Since the identity, Seeking Answers, is different from the email that I had sent communicated with in the past, I never mentioned to her that she had helped me get through a difficult week in my marriage. But if you are still reading blogs at this point, I want to take this opportunity to say thank you.

Thank you very much for answering my questions and helping me to understand a bit better the complexity of love. Thank you for sharing your amazing writing talent with all of us who read your blog. Thank you for making me cry, laugh, and always think. You will be missed.

Good luck to you and your husband. I hope that this new chapter of your marriage will be more fulfilling for both of you. I wish you the very best.

Sleepless Night

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night with the remnants of a dream teasing the edge of your mind?

I sit, wide awake when I should be sleeping, wondering why my brain insists on being alert. After several minutes of trying to return to slumber, I've given up. My husband is away on business, my kids are sleeping, and I am strangely restless.

I say strangely, because I am often alone and content. I am a person who can curl up with a book, an old sitcom, or almost any movie, and be completely satisfied for hours at a time. If that fails, I can blog-surf forever, letting one blog's sidebar lead me to another, indefinitely.

But none of that is working for me tonight - or rather this morning - so I decided to simply sit down and let the thoughts in my head ramble their way onto my blog. perhaps once they escape, I will finally be able to put my mind, and the rest of myself, to bed.



Things have been going well recently, but I did have one bad day last week where DH and I had an actual, verbal fight. We rarely raise our voices, but I was both crying and shouting. He had unintentionally said something earlier that day which was incredibly hurtful to me. He felt the fact that he had said it without thought as to how I would feel made it somehow less egregious. After all, he didn't intend to hurt my feelings.

I, on the other hand, thought that the thoughtlessness actually made the situation much worse. I am his wife. I think that he should be thinking about how his words and actions affect me. The fact that I didn't occur to him is not comforting in any way.

He sees my point, and I understand his... on an intellectual level, but neither of us is really conceding our position.

So, in my sleep deprived state, I have decided to ask any of you reading this if you have an opinion. And I am interested to see if this is one of those Mars / Venus situations where men and women see things differently.

Do you think that accidentally hurting your partner's feelings is excusable because intent is what matters, and there was no intention to hurt the other person?

Or, do you think that not considering your partners feelings is offensive, regardless of whether or not any damage was done? That the fact that you aren't thinking about your partner is a problem in and of itself?



I'm going to go to bed now - again - but I look forward to your opinions.

Reading My Mind

A couple weeks ago, I was chatting with another blogger who happens to be very involved in BDSM. She was telling me how she and her husband got started in their lifestyle and explaining what it means that she has agreed to be 'owned' by her husband. The mutual trust involved in this is really amazing. What began as a sexual fantasy for them now is a driving force in almost every aspect of their lives.

While I have no interest in having a steady diet of BDSM, I must admit that I enjoy the flavor of it liberally sprinkled into my sex life.

There is an amazing freedom involved in being tied up. The restraints prevent me from stopping an experience because it is new or different. I enjoy being put on display in a manor that does not allow me modesty. I love being a sexual object.

Being blindfolded is another of my favorite activities. I am not overly visual when it comes to arousal, so I lose very little by not being able to see. On the other hand, it is amazing how much sensation is gained. It is as if I develop new, extra nerve endings when I cannot see. Each kiss, each caress is amplified. Hot and cold take on new meaning. Anticipation and uncertainty add to the experience.

Finding the line where pleasure and pain intersect is also intense. Don't get me wrong, I have no interest in experiencing actual pain, but with the right amount of foreplay and arousal, it is amazing how incredible the slight burn of hot wax can feel. Careful flogging or a well placed smack with a leather strap can make the nerves in my skin so much more responsive. And better than any of those is the feel of my husband's hand reddening the skin on my ass.

But the common thread in all of those activities is what I actually draws me to them all. I love the dominance that my husband displays, and I love to submit to what he wants. There is no happier feeling than having his hand fisted in my hair, controlling me. No safer place to be than trapped beneath him with my arms pinned above my head.

But like every other aspect of my life, there is an amazing amount of trial and error built into these activities. Some days our forays into the world of Domination/submission are exhilarating, freeing and fulfilling, but other times, they frustrate me because I want something more or different than what is happening.

That frustration soon became the subject of my conversation with the other blogger. I was telling her that I am normally pretty good at verbalizing what I need sexually. I have very little difficulty asking for things to be faster, slower, harder, or at a different angle. It takes almost nothing away from my experience to request what I need in order to climax.

It is different though, when I am being submissive. Sometimes I want him to show more force. Sometimes I want a bit more pain. Often, I want my husband to talk to me like he owns me. If I ask, he is more than happy to oblige, but then I loose a lot of the pleasure that these things would normally give me.

My blogger friend tells me that what I was doing is 'topping from the bottom', meaning that since I was telling my DH what to do, I was actually being the dominant partner ... which is not what I was looking for in these sessions at all.

What I want, apparently, is for DH to read my mind. Unfortunately, this has to be a difficult task, because I change my mind on a fairly regular basis.

And it isn't only during sex that I feel that way.

Do you remember the movie, The Break-Up? During a scene when they are fighting, they have the following conversation. (I haven't looked it up, so I'm sorry if it isn't exact.)

Vince Vaughn: Fine, I'll do the dishes.
Jennifer Aniston: I don't want you to do the dishes, I want you to want to do the dishes.
Vince Vaughn: Why on earth would I want to do the dishes?!

I could be Jennifer Aniston's character. I don't just want my needs met, I want DH to read my mind and no what those needs are without me telling him ... even when my needs may be bewildering to him.

I know this isn't fair. I understand that I can't really expect my husband to read my mind. I realize that this is just an exercise in frustration for both of us. But still, I can't help but wish.

Because even if it isn't fair, it's just not satisfying to be topping from the bottom.

A Moment in Time

Things have been going pretty well these last couple of weeks. DH and I are coexisting well, even if we are not exactly connecting on an existential level. But there are more ways to connect than one, and as anyone who has read my blog for any amount of time knows, my answer to almost any marital issue is sex.

Being male, DH isn't opposed to this method - especially when I take matters into my own hands. He minds even less when I take him into my mouth.

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A couple of days ago, DH and I spent several hours doing yard work. We trimmed, pruned, weeded, planted and mulched until we were both streaked with dirt and covered in sweat. We had dinner plans with friends set for that evening, so when we were finished, I sent DH in to shower first while I put away the tools and straightened up the patio. A few minutes later, I went in to clean up, myself.

I was in our walk-in closet, picking the clothes I would wear after my shower, when DH finished his. He walked up to his dresser to get a pair of boxers, and the scent of his soap instantly filled the small space. Despite having quickly wiped off with the towel that was now wrapped around his waist, his skin was still damp and slightly glistening. As I watched him retrieve his clothing from a drawer, a drip of water escaped from his hair and started running down the indentation of his spine until it disappeared into the towel.

I stared transfixed for a short second, but as another drip started to form, I new I had to catch it. Without giving DH any warning, I came up behind him and pulled away the towel. Holding his hips to keep him from turning, my tongue found the base of his spine and I began to lick my way up his back, catching the errant drips and savoring the flavor of freshly clean husband.

As I reached his upper back, I stretched onto my tiptoes pulled him back slightly against me so that I could kiss his neck. After only a moment, DH shivered from the chills I was giving him and turned around to take me into his arm. He kissed me lightly, then looked down at me and chuckled. "Ugh, you're still filthy. Now, I'm going to have to rinse off again."

I pulled back slightly, so that I could look into his eyes, raised one eyebrow at him and said, "Sorry," in a tone that was anything but.

He rolled his eyes at me, kissed the tip of my nose, and started to pull away to grab his clothes. I didn't even realize I was going to do it, but as soon as he let me go, I dropped to my knees. Before he had time to turn away, I took him into my mouth.

He actually stumbled slightly, the surprise of my actions momentarily stealing his balance. He steadied himself quickly with a hand on my head, and as my lips found their way to the very base of his soft cock, his fingers curled slightly to grip my hair.

We moaned almost in unison. He from the feeling of my tongue swirling on his most sensitive skin. Me from the sensation of dominance exuded by his action.

Almost too quickly, his cock began to swell, thickening and lengthening to the point that it was impossible for me to keep him completely in my mouth, and lightly triggering my gag reflex when I would try.

The clean taste of his skin was almost irresistible, and I found myself devouring him voraciously. I couldn't seem to get enough of him in my mouth. Lips, tongue and teeth were all working in unison to elicit more of those low moans.

In a matter of minutes, I could hear the change in DH's breathing. The muscles in his legs were tensing almost rhythmically, and the gentle hand in my hair was becoming a tight fist. I quickened my tempo, using my entire body to bob against his cock.

Moments later, I could feel the telltale twitching of cock against the roof of my mouth. A louder grunt escaped from DH's lips, and his warm fluid started shooting into my mouth. There, on the floor of my closet, I knelt. Swallowing everything he had to give me, and then using my lips to milk every last drop from his cock.

When I was sure he had nothing left to give me, I rose to my feet, gently raking my nails up his legs, across his abdomen and up to his chest. I kissed him slowly, sharing the taste of his orgasm as our tongues danced together.

Then, without warning I turned and walked away to take my shower. Throughout our evening with friends, my smug smile never left my lips. And every time I caught DH's eye, his expression reflected mine.

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No, things aren't perfect, and one blow job is not capable of fixing a year's worth of problems, but I'm learning not to spoil good moments by worrying constantly about the overall picture. And that was a good moment.

Who knows, maybe my 'fix it with sex' theory has some validity after all. Maybe.