Over the last couple of weeks I have made some new Twitter friends through my love of the band My Chemical Romance. It was great to find people who shared my love of their music even though there were obvious age discrepancies between me & the teens :-)
Anyway, one of them sent me a quote earlier on Twitter and it defintely sums up just how I feel we should live our lives.
“you are never to old to set a new goal or to dream a new dream” – C.S. Lewis
Oh, in my dreams.
I don’t want a slave, I don’t want a pet but wouldn’t it be pleasant to have a man that truly enjoyed tending to your needs. One who would rub your shoulders if he saw you were tense (without being asked). One who would worship you, faults and all. One who would make you feel giddy every time you saw him.
Of course, the relationship wouldn’t be lop-sided. I would so make my manpet’s life blissfully pleasurable. I would love him unconditionally, take care of him, satisfy his needs.
We would touch each other’s minds and bodies without any reservations or embarrassment. There would be no secrets, there would be understanding. We would be best friends, erotic lovers, support system and cheerleaders.
…
In my reality.
I have a man that tries. I have a man that tells me he loves me, regularly. One who buys me chocolates “just because”, who allows me to be me. We share joys and sorrows, we get mad and we make up, we have trust, a joint life.
…
I can dream, fantasise, lust after and long for but I have a reality that, while not perfect, makes me thankful every day.
Having had post-natal depression I find myself extra vigilant against falling back into that void again. Most days I am fine, I am naturally cheerful and enjoy living, however I do have my days where I feel that drops of tears are teetering in the corners of my eyes.
The thing is, I don’t know how to explain it. What makes one day perfectly happy and the next I want to hide away from the universe and bawl my eyes out until they are raw and hurting like my heart.
My normal reaction is to attempt my ‘happy strategy’; I find ways to head off the salt and find the sweet. A walk in the sunshine, a silly comedy, tweet with friends are all coping mechanisms. Some days though I relent and give in to the sadness. Strangely enough, often a good cry alone does seem to make me feel better emotionally – though the sore eyes and headache aren’t pleasant.
Depression is a sneaky malady and one that is often dismissed. Believe me, it is a dark reality I would rather know nothing about.
Where the hell did mine go?
OK, I like the thought of sex. I have a healthy imagination. But when it comes down to it – yuck.
Am I alone?
My fantasy men vary depending on the time of year, what I’ve been watching and how dirty I am feeling. Some men you feel would use and abuse you (in the nicest way) while others you instinctively know would be the perfect gentleman.
It’s not necessarily what might be termed as ‘classically attractive’ men who catch my attention. I like men with strong characters and features, nice eyes always work well. Huge muscles are a definite turn off. Hairy chests are yum but too much is yuck. Age is pretty irrelevant when it’s the right guy, although I don’t like ‘em too young :-)
Strong hands, imagining them running over my body. Teasing me, caressing (isn’t that a good word?) me, finding all those places that make me gasp with pleasure when they are touched or pinched. I always look at a man’s hands.
What men do you have fantasies about?
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