Mr. D came home early in the afternoon, since all of his dress clothes were still at the house. We got ready for the company party together and dropped our son off at the grandparents’. I wasn’t sure how the whole evening would go, but the company party is usually a decently small enough gathering not to completely sap my weak and easily drained introvert energy. I know most of the people and the food is always amazing. So, I managed to truly have a good time, and I’m sure not a soul in the place could tell there was trouble in paradise. I also know he’s not likely to talk about his personal business at work. We have a few very close friends that know, so it wasn’t awkward in that way and no one asked about or brought up our situation, which was good.
I had one too many glasses of wine, and he (who had not touched alcohol since he left the house 4 weeks ago) had just one too many glasses of scotch. We weren’t drunk, but we were comfortable and warm…and obviously just weak enough to see in each other some of the reason we still can’t let go: we have fun together, we support one another, we are entrenched in one another’s story, and we still have a lot of desire for each other.
By the time we got home, where both of our vehicles were now, it was late, and it didn’t seem like a good idea for him to drive home.
He began with, “I’m not going to beat around the bush…I could drive home tonight, or even get a ride, but I don’t want to…”
He took my hand in a silent question, which he didn’t need to ask, because I wanted him to stay.
“I could also sleep on the couch, but I don’t want to…”
I’m not certain of all the little things that occurred after that, the soft kisses quickly turning to passionate, my dress on the floor, his cock deep inside of me, first my pussy, then my ass. We ended up in our expected spoon, comfortable in the scent of our own love.
We woke up to coffee and a decision. He would move back in, because it feels impossible for us to really work on our relationship when we are apart. Yes, it is easier to work on ourselves, and maybe that should come first, but I’m guessing it can also happen simultaneously if we are more open with each other about what we need. I know some would say it’s too soon, or maybe a bad idea. But then, those “some” are not us.
He isn’t drinking. He’s going to school. He’s reading at night instead of losing himself in the internet and playing games on his tablet. He knows we both have things to work on and that this is not just my fault or his fault. But then, he already knew that. What remains to be seen is whether or not he can face his own demons when it comes to resentment and trust and forgiveness. That’s his journey, though, not mine.
My journey is a different one. It includes him…in fact, he is an integral part of it. My journey is one of erotic re-education. I need to find the sleeping fire in me, and stoke it deeply. I need to find confidence and the ability to speak my desires…to ask for what I want. Of course, that takes knowing what I want first. So, as I go into the new year, I’m inviting you on a journey. I’ve mentioned it before…I’m calling it the Erotic Journal Challenge. Each week, I’ll post a prompt…a question or topic for consideration and writing. Give it a go. It might be fun…and will surely be illuminating.