New Entry; Too much thinking pt.2
Whoever said that make-up sex is some of the best was very nearly right. Ether, the things that man can do with his tongue.
There's a reason I write "nearly," however. I can't shake the regret I feel at having had the doubts--and caused still more--that led us to bed last night. If I had thought things through rationally I never would have made the suggestion, but our hearts are hardly ever rational, are they? They have a way of overwhelming what the mind knows and making it stop seeing sense. I allowed my own insecurities and self-doubt to guide my words the day before.
It hadn't even occurred to me that it would look like a lack of trust on my part. I was completely taken by surprise when he asked--it should have been so obvious, how could I be so thoughtless? I even wrote in this journal that things might be misunderstood because of our history; I was thinking of my former profession.
... I suppose, in a way, that it's a testament to just how much I trust him that the one incident didn't even come to mind. I haven't actually thought about it, not since the time that fool rogue broke into our room at the Legerdemain. That still makes me want to smack seven kinds of snot out of him I told him that I've never held it against him--and it's true. There were no promises. The word love wasn't even in the equation. How could I blame him for falling into bed with someone that was promising more, when all I could say for certain was that I was experiencing some jealousy?
It never crossed my mind. All that I could think about was the fact that I'm starting to pass middle-aged, and only getting older, and he's still so young and full of life. That I might not be everything he needs, no matter how hard I try. If it meant being able to have him just a little longer, I would gladly stand aside... even if it would kill me to do so.
I explained what was actually going through my mind when I brought up the possibility of our relationship being more... open. I almost wish that I hadn't--I'm half-afraid that he'll start being... careful, I suppose. All that I can do is make it clear that I'm not fragile, that I believe what he said about me being enough. And I do believe it. My heart feels lighter than it has for days.
... I used a lot of words that sounded as though I expect us to last forever. I wish so much that this could be so; my cynicism tells me that it's folly to hope for such a thing. But I do know this: whether it's only another year, or he's still with me in my dotage, I will treasure every day that comes, and I will always trust him.
There's a reason I write "nearly," however. I can't shake the regret I feel at having had the doubts--and caused still more--that led us to bed last night. If I had thought things through rationally I never would have made the suggestion, but our hearts are hardly ever rational, are they? They have a way of overwhelming what the mind knows and making it stop seeing sense. I allowed my own insecurities and self-doubt to guide my words the day before.
It hadn't even occurred to me that it would look like a lack of trust on my part. I was completely taken by surprise when he asked--it should have been so obvious, how could I be so thoughtless? I even wrote in this journal that things might be misunderstood because of our history; I was thinking of my former profession.
... I suppose, in a way, that it's a testament to just how much I trust him that the one incident didn't even come to mind. I haven't actually thought about it, not since the time that fool rogue broke into our room at the Legerdemain. That still makes me want to smack seven kinds of snot out of him I told him that I've never held it against him--and it's true. There were no promises. The word love wasn't even in the equation. How could I blame him for falling into bed with someone that was promising more, when all I could say for certain was that I was experiencing some jealousy?
It never crossed my mind. All that I could think about was the fact that I'm starting to pass middle-aged, and only getting older, and he's still so young and full of life. That I might not be everything he needs, no matter how hard I try. If it meant being able to have him just a little longer, I would gladly stand aside... even if it would kill me to do so.
I explained what was actually going through my mind when I brought up the possibility of our relationship being more... open. I almost wish that I hadn't--I'm half-afraid that he'll start being... careful, I suppose. All that I can do is make it clear that I'm not fragile, that I believe what he said about me being enough. And I do believe it. My heart feels lighter than it has for days.
... I used a lot of words that sounded as though I expect us to last forever. I wish so much that this could be so; my cynicism tells me that it's folly to hope for such a thing. But I do know this: whether it's only another year, or he's still with me in my dotage, I will treasure every day that comes, and I will always trust him.