Happiness is a Warm Bed

 

This is important.

And now for my next trick I will use quantum physics to justify my happiness.

I am my own cock blocking robot from outer space. From out near one of Saturn’s moons I presume. Atlas sounds correct, carrying all this weight around with me when I should just be shrugging.

What is wrong with me?

I put poor vagina on lockdown around the whole Giant debacle.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. Albert Einstein

So I tried something different.
I denied myself my usual human Band-Aid and chose to just let the hurt heal on its own.
It did, not even the slightest hint of scar tissue, it wasn’t like that. He isn’t like that.

Sometimes we must fast to get closer to god.
In so doing, I remembered I have been gifted by the gods.
I’m activating one of my superpowers. This one is called “I can sugarcoat/ justify anyone’s behavior” now with an added twist it’s MY turn.

I do that. Read anything here about Young Un and you would think he has a halo.
Um, he left me too, in a less than majestic manner. But we are okay now.
I painted Ex Hubby a saint as well, we are not okay now.

Everything changes, everything is temporary and all I have is right now and the stories I write here to remind me of what ‘now’ felt like.

I also remember the time called “before”.

Once upon a time there lived Sisterwife, Bad Kitty and Jesus.

If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it does it still make a sound?

It’s a cat in a box, we really don’t know for sure.

Double slit theory proves that all matter behaves differently when observed.

So if I fuck him and she never finds out, am I really hurting her?

Nope.

The atoms I am composed of do behave much differently when I am with him, ecstatically actually, and his thrum rather harmoniously with mine.

Do what thou wilt, this shall be the whole of the law. Aleister Crowley

The witch in me has to add ‘Do no harm’.

I can’t. I am not that girl.

I slept with Jesus for the most of the 90’s into the oughts’ while he dated his her. She still doesn’t know.

I’ve spoken with him about ‘us’ at great length. I was really happy, pouty but happy. He was really happy, guilty but happy.
Her? She was blissfully oblivious. I needed him to tell me one more time that I was a good girl. He did, I was. Amen.

After the 6 year internment-camp/prison/cheatfest that was my marriage I vowed I would never ever do that to another woman.

But I never did. I am not capable of that cruelty, never was.

The Jesus tree crashed down in my bed once a week, sometimes twice and his girlfriend never heard it. I didn’t make a sound outside of my room, just enjoyed the time we were given.

Sisterwife, was all hacking and chainsaws. She made it a clear cutting competition. Bragged, harassed. Used Facebook as a weapon and a wedge trying to and succeeding in cutting me down. We took turns throwing each other under the bus.

When Bad Kitty was actively pursuing her married Monster I helped her move physically closer to him. I had to grit my teeth for sure, some of my old wounds started to open and weep. But I genuinely cared about her and I wanted her to be happy. I have an ingrained need to contribute to the happiness of others, so I justified her behavior. Until she attacked his wife then I cut her off with the same axe I defended her with.

I know I am only in control of myself and my actions. I am not here to judge anyone. I have my own moral code and my own way of doing things. Louis CK calls them his ‘believies’ and he lives by none of them. He is my power animal.

You see kids. I want someone who does not belong to me. And he wants me too.

I had to ask myself why myself and the Giant deserved less happiness than what I’d helped Bad Kitty attain.

I have never and would never behave the way Bad Kitty and Sisterwife did. I behave the way I do. Loving, nurturing, constantly putting the happiness of others before my own. His happiness happens to be linked to mine.

What if someone throws me under a literal bus tomorrow and I missed out on amazing conversation, snuggles, backrubs and lightning sex with this colossal giant of a man that I feel amazing just being in the same room with?

 

Fuck it.

I went to his house. Matching bra and panties, freshly showered with every intention of fucking him.

I was afraid I’d slipped out of my goody-goody-two-shoes and he had found a pair of his own, but as his slid my underwear down over my ass and flipped me over to massage my front, that panic subsided. I looked up at him, my leg slung over his shoulder so he could work the knots out of my thigh and saw his eyes half closed in a blissed-out state that matched my own…no guilt, just cake and lightning sex.

I watched him smiling all the way up into his eyes, immediately shed guilt I’d been carrying.

I wrote the rulebook for lovin’ young uns. And he is young.

1. Thou shall not covet the young uns. If they come, let them, but don’t try to keep them. (It is actually more rewarding that way, having them return over and over without implied obligation or imaginary lockdown)
2. This too shall pass. Bask in the now, don’t think ahead. Or else the consequences will be yours to suffer alone.

My girl just got back from Burning Man. Explained the policies which allow this to continue. Sooooo unlike other festivals that leave chaos in their wake, this one has a carry-it-in carry-it-out policy. MOOP (material out of place) is forbidden. Nothing is left behind, the hardpack is squared off and fine combed for the last little bit of glitter and feathers. Leaving it as pristine as it was before 70 000 people did their thing in the desert. Ensuring the reverie can happen again the next time.

Too bad we can’t do this with people. Come in, enjoy, camp out and then leave with just memories, without scarring the landscape.

Too bad? No, exactly this. Leave no trace except the lingering lightning under our skin.