It’s been 3 years and I am starving for affection and attention from him. I’m in a catch 22 because he won’t give me what I need, but I don’t want it from anyone else. My heart aches and my body screams out for his touch, but he refuses to respond. His attention is focused on movies, facebook, pinterest. I pour my heart out to him in words, letters. I shower him with love, affection, attention, suggestive innuendo. He never doubts how much I want him. He responds with a chuckle, or not at all. The rare time that he comes to bed at the same time and I initiate, he might go along for the ride, but it’s all me giving, asking, taking. If I didn’t it would never happen. I know this because I waited it out hoping his desire would build, but after 6 months I couldn’t take it any more. He doesn’t notice my tears at the relief I feel at the touch of his flesh that I’ve been craving so badly. The pleasure is momentary as it’s over so soon and the connection is fleeting and heavily one sided. He lies on his back and drifts off to sleep as tears of frustration and longing slide over my nose and onto his chest. Those are the good times. The times that he outright rejects me sting like acid on my heart. During the day I am stronger, though that doesn’t help at all. The hurt manifests as anger, resentment and I am snippy and bitter. This does nothing to make me more attractive or desirable to him. I know this and I try really hard to swallow it back. My stomach is now a churning mess. I am sure I have an ulcer. I just want him to want me; to make love to me. I want him to lift my hair and kiss my neck like it’s the sweetest dessert that he can’t get enough of. I want him to press his body against mine because he can’t help but want to feel every inch of my body with every inch of his. I want to feel his hands roaming, soft, strong, rough and gentle all at the same time. I want to feel his passion and his patient restraint as he takes his time slowly kissing and touching me everywhere, not just the hot spots..knowing how the passion builds up with every caress. I want him to give as much as take and make love to me slowly, passionately, relishing the sensations that we give to each other. I want him to want me even after we climax, to keep kissing and touching until the fires build up and we are wrapped up in each other again. I want that feeling to still be there in the morning. I want to wake up to him looking at me, smiling, touching me, pulling me in close because he wants to touch me more, make love to me to start the day, kiss me until my toes curl. I want us to be able to have wild, passionate sex. To have him desire me so intensely that he can’t wait when we get home that he hikes up my skirt, tears down my panties and plunges deep inside me telling me how fucking hot I am and how much he’s wanted to do that all night. I want him to send me naughty messages or call me and tell me what he’s going to do to me later...I want him to pick me up for lunch and take me somewhere secluded..I want him to make love to me in the woods, on the beach, in the kitchen, in the shower, on the couch...I want to surprise him in the morning by diving under the covers and know that he won’t ignore me or push me away.. Version 1 These are the words I wrote in my journal just a few weeks ago. I read them to remind me that this was the right choice. That after I clean up the dirt tracked on the floors from the moving company, move the furniture around to fill in the gaps and re-arrange my closets and drawers to fill up the empty spaces, I can begin to live again. I look around and I am numb. I want to be happy. I want to feel. I just want to sleep, hide, shut the world out and dream about being seduced, wanted. My heart aches. My puffy eyes sting. My muscles are limp. I feel like my neck is not strong enough to hold my head up and there’s a tightness that is starting to throb from my neck up the back of my head. My brain feels like it wants to bulge out my ear and my eye. My stomach is knotted with hunger, but I can’t think of anything I want to eat. I know I should eat or my headache will spin out of control, but I just lie on the couch. It’s already getting dark and the room is cool, which at least is good for my head. I close my eyes in search of that blissful darkness of sleep. Pebbles jumps up and snuggles on top of me purring a lullaby in my ear. The tears that I thought were exhausted seep out from under my eyelids and slide down over the bridge of my nose and onto the pillow. I breathe in and out. Version 2 These are the words that I wrote in my journal just a few weeks ago. He looks up at me with tears in his eyes after reading them slowly, carefully. “I don’t know what to say”, he says. I say nothing because this is his typical response. I can’t tell him how to respond, I just need him to. Instead I wait as the tears fall silently down my face. I’m prepared for this. I know how it will go because we’ve been through this before. The difference is, I have nothing left to say. I’ve said it all time and again. I’ve laid my heart out on the line and I know that I cannot go back this time. “Babe - say something”, he says, a slight rise in his pitch tells me he’s feeling a bit panicky. My heart is beating so hard, it hurts and I’m feeling strained for breath. “I’ve said everything I can possibly say to you. I need you to actively decide what happens next. No more hiding in avoidance or behind depression. Take your time and think about this because it’s important - to both of us.” I’m prepared to give him time and space to think without pressure. I’ve booked a room where I can also be alone and just relax and I have a bag ready. I tell him that I am giving him time alone, in no way to punish or abandon, but to give him space to think clearly. I tell him where I am going and how to reach me, gently kiss his cheek and go. As I drive I feel a little bit lighter, but still melancholy and utterly exhausted. The noise of the radio grates on my delicate senses. I shut it off in favour of the soothing sound of the light rain on the windshield. Thankfully the lobby is quiet and the check-in is smooth and quick. The tightening in the back of my neck is the early warning signal for a migraine. In the room I drop my bags and coat on the chair, turn on the water to fill the jacuzzi and heat up some water for my soul soothing cup-a-soup. The modern room is comfortable with deep chocolate and soft golden tones and lighting that creates a warm cozy glow. The jacuzzi is framed with smoky mirrors and the same soft lighting that reminds me that I forgot to bring the tea light candles to create that same effect. ‘Smart design’ I think to myself. The towels are soft and thick. I roll one up to place behind my head and ease into the hot bubbling water to soak away the weariness and chill. Turning my head I look into my own eyes in the mirror. The puffy redness is minimized in the subdued light, but they still look sad and tired. I try to see myself as he might. My eyes are large, medium blue-green, clear and intelligent with just a few barely noticeable lines starting at the corners. Long, blonde hair piled on my head is shiny and healthy. My skin is pale, smooth, clear. My lips are thin and though unsmiling at the moment, tend to smile easily. Overall, it’s a kind and attractive face, though I can’t bear to see the sadness of that person in the mirror and close my eyes to concentrate on the soothing vibrations of the jacuzzi motor. I wonder what he’s doing, thinking, feeling. I wonder if he misses me the way I miss him. I wonder if he cares enough about us to work through his inertia. Will he succumb to the depression and just do nothing for the next few days? Will he be gone when I return? Will he pretend like it never happened? I don’t have a lot of faith that he will magically wake up. We’ve been down this road too many times so why would this time be any different? I expect that he might leave, but I hold on to the hope that he will prove me wrong. My tummy rumbles to remind me that my soup is waiting and I’m now sufficiently overheated, so I towel off and re-heat the now cooled cup. I lie naked against the pillows pulling the sheet over my mid-section, always conscious of my belly I automatically cover it. The hot, salty soup soothes both my tummy and my tired soul. I check my phone - no messages, so I put on some soothing sleep music and slide down into the comfy cocoon of sheets, blankets and pillows letting the binaural beats fill my head. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sleeping when I wake to the sense that I am no longer alone. My heart immediately starts racing when I realize that he is in the room in the process of undressing. I told the front desk to give him a key if he came in, but never really expected him to show up. He slips in beside me. “Hi baby” he says gently. “Hi” is all I can whisper and I can’t help but snuggle up beside his cool body, breathing in his intoxicating scent. Why do I have to be so goddam attracted to him!! He holds me tight and I just breathe in and out trying to feel calm, wondering what this is and if I should be falling into it. When he speaks I can hear the struggle and the desperation in his voice. “I’m not good at this, but you’re too important to me not to tell you..I know my heart and I love you...I want to spend my life with you… I get stuck in these moods, ruts and I don’t realize how long it lasts or how deeply it affects you. I know you feel hurt and angry and it makes me shut down more because I feel like shit, like less of a man and I don’t know how to pull myself out of it. I keep thinking that time will take care of it, but I realize now how that makes you feel abandoned and I’m sorry. My first reaction was to go to bed and shut down because I felt so shitty about it, but something made me get up and say no, I can’t do that. So here I am - I want to do things differently. I might make more mistakes, but please let me try and be patient with me…” All I can do is bury my face in his chest and cry for several minutes. It’s not pretty or sexy. Not the romantic coming together that I had pictured. I get up, wash my face, blow my nose and come back to him. “That’s all I want” I tell him and he kisses me. He actually turns to me and kisses me and I lose myself in his kiss. My whole soul responds and my body arches as I press into him. I want to melt into him, be one with him. He touches my face, my neck, my shoulder, my arm and clasps his fingers with mine for a moment. He cups my breast and pulls back slightly so he can kiss it. I’m instantly on fire and he knows how much I desire him. He takes his time holding me tenderly, kissing me, kissing my neck and ears, shoulders. Touching me, caressing me with his big warm strong hands. I feel his fingers slip into me and shudder with such intense pleasure. I wish he knew how good this feels… when I think he’s going to stop I push his hand back silently begging him for more, arching my hips up to him, kissing him deeply, suckling his tongue playfully.. “don’t stop” I beg as he kisses my neck …”let yourself go, please”...and I feel him relax and let the passion take over. His hands are touching me, his lips, tongue on me, suckling my breasts, trailing kisses over my body until he’s slid down between my legs and I’m moaning with pleasure, touching myself, touching him. He’s using his tongue, his hands, suckling gently on my clit bringing me higher and higher. I can’t stand it, I want him inside me, but he won’t stop and the feeling is so intense…”let go, baby” he says “I love tasting you.” He’s fingering me and tonguing me mercilessly and “..oh my god..don’t stop” I gasp...the sensation is building and suddenly my body is pulsing and shuddering with the orgasm as he continues to suckle and finger me until the pulsing stops. I sit up to kiss him and touch him, take him into my mouth. He lets me enjoy giving him this pleasure for a few minutes, then kisses me and tells me that he wants to make love to me and lays me back onto the pillows. He kisses me some more touching me, fingering me and then guides his hard cock inside me slowly sliding deep inside me all the way..oh the sensation is exquisite..slowly he slides in and out as he looks into my eyes and tells me he loves me...the intensity is building and I can feel the urgency..I want him deeper, harder, faster..I want all of him..I want him to take me with every ounce of passion he has within him..and he does..and it’s wonderful. We are breathlessly tangled, his body collapsed on mine. I feel him pulsing inside me and I love that. I don’t want to move. I don’t want this feeling to end. I love the weight of him on me. I feel as if our souls have been reunited and for the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of hope for our future.