missrenie: (Default)

Sometimes I look at you and I wonder how it happened


I wonder if you see it as mystical and as magical as I do.  I wonder if you notice how everything had to come into synergy for us to be the way we are with each other now.


For the better part of a decade I thought I knew what love was.  It was tolerance, sacrifice, not kicking the other person when they were down.  It was caring for, cleaning up after, pushing and pulling and changing drastically for the "us", the unit, the team.  I thought that love was achieving the impossible.  That love didn't happen every day  so it had to be held onto, maintained, protected and kept guilelessly pure even if the vessel rotted around it. 


I thought it was convoluted.




You've shown me that I was terribly wrong

Love is simple.

Painfully simple


You do not protect and maintain  it.  IT protects and maintains you. It purifies you and give you a hope with which you can achieve the impossible.  It gives you the ability to endure and change.  To yield instead of pull... to push so gently that dust remains unsettled while breaking through an immovable mountain.


It is the honesty to tell each other the truth even if you are down, to give everything you have while sacrificing nothing.

It is perpetual motion while standing perfectly still


It is not romantic

or at least not nearly as romantic as I was lead to believe

It is real

It is blissfully mundane and in that lies it magic

Love happens everyday... that's fucking important to remember so I'll type it again.  Love happens everyday.


It's the warm hand adjusting the seam of your black fishnet stockings, or the careful yet ample application of glitter spray to a nervous, giggly body.  It's the battle cry of "Vajazzle" and "I live" 

It's a tolerated snore in your ear or drool on your shoulder


It's in reconnection and forgiveness. 

It's a shared night that we may never talk about again but think about every-time we see each other and smile. 


It's a bag of snap peas you didn't have to get

the extra tip you gave

or refused to take. 


It's the in following text:

"Where you at bitch? Dead in a ditch?  I haven't hear from you since go was a child"

It's telling me I have something stuck between my two front teeth.


It's taking my car and forcing me to call in sick when I am.  It's reminding me of me when I have lost myself.  You remember the little things and you are present for the big ones.


It's your breath against my neck at 2am


the sound of your voice over the phone at midnight


It's the open  invite to dinner or lunch or breakfast even though I never quite seem to have the time.


It's letting me feel safe enough to painfully vulnerable and trusting me to be powerfully strong for you.


It's letting go

It's refusing to let go


It's in seeing my faults and filling those empty spaces with your own unique perfection and allowing me the privilege of doing the same for you.


Thank you

I'm a better person

because of you~~~

missrenie: (Default)
Thursday I auditioned for America's Got Talent

Friday I danced burlesque in San Francisco

Saturday I was invited to be a guest speaker on a panel regarding sexuality and healthcare

Sunday I slept 14 hours straight

Monday I can hardly remember

Tuesday I saw my tits broadcasted on SFweekly.com

and today I slowed down.

I slowed  ... and for a moment all those other voices in my head all that need for speed all that desire to do do do went away and there was silence and you.  Both allowing me to be just me.  I struggled for the spoken words because they seem too intense. But now that I am hiding behind keyboard and computer screens it's easier to get out.

I have a problem with rushing into things way too fast.  I dive instead of allowing myself to slip in.  See I figure that if I dive in I will take the shock all at once and just get it over with.  But you are letting me slip into this.  What ever this is... what ever this will be.  And it's mighty fine of you and it feels simply divine. Inch by blessed inch.

Thank you
It's nice to have no expectations
It's nice to not be pressured

Thank you
It's a relief to be candid
It's a relief to be real

Thank you
It's a pleasure to be organic
It's a pleasure just to feel

Thank you
It's amazing to just be
It's amazing to just be present

I sincerely hope you are getting something from this
because I sure am
I like you
and I like who I am around you
I hope you like me too.
missrenie: (Default)
So I decided to take mom's advice and just enjoy this thing... 

~You're an ass.  I said leaning back in my chair.

He blinked at me his smile wide.  What did you just say?

~You are an ass... a complete ass.  And you're taking me to dinner tonight"

Oh am I?

~Yeah and you're going to pay for the pleasure of my company

Oh really?

~Yes.  I want sushi.  What is a good time for you?

Oh I get to have a choice in this?

~Just answer the question

How's 6?

~Perfect.  I have errands to run after work.  We can car pool.  I can drive.  It'll be good for you and me.  I'm feeling frisky, driving will give me something to do with my hands... oh you're taking me to a movie after dinner by the way. You're paying for that too.

Are you sure you want to go out to night you haven't been sleeping well.  You should get to bed on time... you know... so you can sleep

~Yeah I'll be fine.  Just get me to bed by midnight

So you can get some sleep right?

~Bed by midnight.

missrenie: (Default)

Last weekends sex-capades  left me all fucked up in the head.

After talking to a few level headed friends who suggested the following:


*Intimacy is a thing of perception.  What you interpreted as love making may have been his standard fair.  Remember hun you’re ass to elbow into some weird multi-favored shit… normal maybe starting to taste exotic to you.

 *There are guys who just want to please women you know (this was stated to me very defensly).  Doesn’t mean he’s in love with you just that he likes making love and until he asks you to formally be his girly then
A: just enjoy it with no emotional attachments
B: stop fucking/ making love to him

 *You’re not in love you’re in stupid.  I think you should come over so I can slap you.  Maybe give you that some sense you’re sorely lacking.

 *This guy is a stickler for rules.  And he is breaking his personal rules for you.  He may have real feelings for you but is freaking out about logistics.  Or he doesn’t and he’s using the logistics as an excuse. 

 *Maybe its your body’s way of telling you to slow the hell down you dirty whore.  Maybe you actually want one man and not three hundred. 

 *You… one guy, vanilla sex, no hair pulling or strap-ons?  Who the hell are you trying to kid.  You’re delirious from lack of sleep and a proper spanking.  Take a nap, get thee to a dungeon and talk to me in the morning.



I decide to take him for another run just to be figure out if: 
A: that I am in deep deep like with him
B: that I was delirious from lack of sleep and a proper spanking.

So last night I’m clutching the edge of the stove top and leaning dangerously close to an almost whistling teapot as he grinds against me enthusiastically from the back.  It’s hard to pour tea when someone’s biting on your neck but we both really needed it.  The tea I mean. Turns out that I gave him a nasty viral throat infection last Sunday that I wasn’t aware I had at the time.

We cuddle, drink our tea.  And I wonder if sleeping with him again is the best course of action.  Laying in his arms with my head against his chest felt too good.  But  then I figure that any guy who likes my herbal tea, doesn’t flinch or look at me crazy when I tell him about the coven and still thinks I’m sexy after serving him up a slice of the special hell I’ve been in since Wednesday  is worth another roll in the hay. 

Besides it would be like kissing after we both ate garlic… “a negating effect since I’ve already infected him”... this is his theory.  I suggest giving him a massage.  I actually do give him a professional massage with no hanky panky.

 I inform him of his body issues.  Suggest a course of action and I can barely get the lotion away before it’s all “hacha and whoopee”. 

And this time I screamed louder when I came.
This time I went into with a sense humor instead of heartbreak and you know what, maybe my logic is skewed but it worked out in my favor anyway.  I figured out that what I've got is something far better than a fuck buddy.  I have a love buddy.  Which is kinda like a fuck buddy but better. 

See my love buddy cares about my day, my life and when he is going to see me again, he wants to know what I am thinking, and how he can please me. He teaches me to load and shoot winchester rifles and remembers the things that I say and sometimes peer pressures me into eating beef.
I care about my love buddies goals and pursuits, whether or not he made it home okay, I know the names of his siblings and that when he was 12 he had a blond patch of hair... just one patch admist all that brown  and how a specific shade of green turns his eyes really really blue... and I make him laugh.  Alot. 

I really like him
and I really enjoy my time with him. We both enjoy our time with each other, moaning and laughing, touching and tickling. Holding eachother and breathing.

There was no embarrassment as he massaged a horrendous cramp out of my left thigh while kissing my right knee.  And in the after glow as we cuddled under my blanket I told him about my mother and he told me about his.    

I saw the pain in his eyes when he spoke of the cancer that killed her.


He knows my secrets.
He’s seen me at my worst and best
He likes me just as wild and free as I am.
He hasn’t asked me to change in any way.

His secrets are silent but on the surface.
And at he worst he is harsh on himself at his best he is passionately focused
He is controled and displined, intelligent and giving
I wouldn't want him to change in any way

His hands were warm as he touched me and I told him so.

He replied with “warm hands cold heart” 
I cupped my hands around my mouth and breathed out hot air against his chest.   I was smiling with childish satisfaction as looked back up at him.   He was laughing, the lines around his eyes deepening and within them I saw that struggle that hesitation but he drew me closer and kissed me anyway and rubbed his nose against mine.

So I love him.

So I  make love to him.

But I'm not in love with him.  See I’ve learned the lesson of the tree.  How some people are roots and stay forever, how some people are branches and can fall away, how some people are leaves and are for a season only.  There is danger in trying to turn a leaf to root.


Intuition tells me  that he is a leaf. 


And that’s alright. 

I accept that. 

I’ll revel in this season. Because right now he’s a little island of sanity within all the insanity of this amazing and awkward adventure I call my life. If he ends up touching me like that for only a little while…If we end up touching each other like that only for a little while then so be it. 


Because he has touched me


In a positive way
that will remain with me
long after he himself  is gone~~~


missrenie: (Default)

November 2011

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