Love

Ang sketch

Love is just a giant little word.  One I am afraid of and have really only said and meant a very few times in my life.  Sure, there is platonic love like how you love a friend for being a friend, or parental love as in how we love our parents.  But there is also a thing called romantic love.  Romantic love is what I speak of here.  I have an issue with it evidently.   When I was younger and more outgoing I chased after love like it was an intoxicator that I just had to have to breath; to live.  But now in my older age here I do far less chasing after this type of love.

Currently I am in a long distance relationship with my lover from Virginia.  Long distance love just sucks when what you crave is the daily touch of another human being.  I want her hands on my body, her kiss upon my lips.  I want the sigh of a woman in my ear.  Distance just keeps all of this from me in a way that feels so cruel and stinging.

Love is one of those emotions I used to try to steer clear of for a few of the more recent years.  I don’t feel like I am very easy to understand for most people, therefore not very loveable to them either.  My exterior is a bit on the harder, rough side and I can be quite stoic in my emotions.  But believe me when I do crack and cry the tears flow like rivers.  It’s not that I mean to be sort of shut down sometimes, but I often am afraid of what to say and don’t want to make mistakes by saying the wrong things.  I tend to speak my mind and that’s not always a good thing I have learned.

Love is a very personal thing for me.  It never has come easy.  I am wary of being burned and thus I take my time with someone.  I have to know that the person loves me that same way that I love her.  I’m a very chivalrous type of Butch, I like to do things that some consider to be male attributes, like pull out her chair, open her car door and entry doors to buildings.  I believe it’s very easy to be kind and chivilrous at the same time.  I’m also one who likes to take care of my woman, make sure she’s happy and contented.  The happier the wife the happier the life!  And that is one very true statement.  And the happier she is the happier I can also be.

As you can see from this post Love has been on my mind heavily lately.  I’m hungry for the touch of another body, and for some ah-mazing sex.  But alas I remain alone here and committed to the path I am walking right now.

Peace!  ~MB

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Crazy Insomniac Rambles

Some nights I get insomnia like a mother fucker.  Just can’t get to sleep no matter what I do.  I know it’s my brain full of noise; ticking away at problems, thoughts and life happenings.  I tend to worry about things and sometimes it does no good to worry, I just need to learn to let those chips fall where they may.

So much going on in my life at the given moment.  Had to quit my job or lose my much needed health insurance benefits.  I liked working again, it sucked to have to quit.  I enjoyed my coworkers, my clientele and the whole fun atmosphere of the bowling alley.  It was a pretty easy job, and I managed to stay busy, despite the boring times when everyone else stood around and complained.  I found things to do; things that needed doing but others were too busy standing around complaining about being bored.  But all in all, the job suited my needs quite well and got me out and about several days a week.  I am going to miss that. And I’ll miss the extra money.  But with my chronic health issues I cannot afford to lose my insurance coverage, any of it.  So I had to make the choice between getting my life-saving medications and working a few hours a week…thus I had to quit.  It was the rational and logical choice

My personal life is in turmoil.  I have an ex here that is leaving after I return from a short vacation. She’s being gracious enough to wait and babysit Nola and the house while I am gone for 5 days.  I appreciate that.  But the tension is palpable, and it’s not going to be easy to see her go – as a friend I have gotten quite attached and Nola is madly in love with her dog.  I actually worry more about Nola going into depression on me over losing her buddy than I am about myself.

I’m skeptical and confused about the “love” word lately.  As much as I would like to be “in” love again I can literally feel myself pushing back from the words.  Sooo much has happened over the last 6 months, and it’s all weighing on my mind and has me quite flustered inside. 

I’m going to go to Florida in a couple of days to meet a woman I am interested in and see how that works out.  I have done a lot of thinking and had many conversations with others about how we tend to meet potential dates or partners online and we develop these online affairs, but you never really know what it really is until you are face-to-face and spending some time together in real life, if it’s going to be something that will work; something with chemistry and spark.  I was really getting attached to this woman via online communications, Skype and emails, but then some crazy crap got in the way and I’ve found, in reconnecting, that I have kind of backed up a notch and am waiting to see if what I feel is real or just some online torrid affair of the heart and keyboard.  She’s a peach for sure, very pretty and very intelligent and quite a catch.  She has her own stuff going on, and I have mine.  If we come together and it works, then great, if not then I will consider that I have made a very good friend and confidant. 

The pressure of going there to meet her weighs heavily on me.  I am afraid that I am expected to be some super Butch with great sexual prowess, and I’m scared of not being able to emotionally or physically live up to those expectations.  But I am pulling up my Butch briefs and going there to meet her, because that’s what I WANT to do and I need to know for sure what is there with us. 

I know I am worrying and wondering way too much.  But it’s my nature I guess.  I must try to get some sleep and rest this weary body!  It’s not Butch to be all exhausted and tired, and you know I am Butch!