It scares me that something so perfect can get so lost in the trivial and the mundane. Lost in the day to day existence and forward motions that are required of us. It terrifies me when I look at the world around me and I feel like I am the only one who can see me, like I am dispensable if not altogether invisible.

Time and again I’ve said it, time and again I’ve heard it. It’s me. My problem. My issues. More often than not it’s a matter of having unrealistic expectations, wanting something that it’s nearly impossible to have. Instead of hitting brick wall after brick wall you’d think eventually I’d learn. Eventually I’d try another path or just stop completely.

Why can’t I ask for what I need? Why can’t I open up and let him be the man he wants to be, the lover I pull close instead of pushing away? He doesn’t ask for anything but my love. Unlike me. I ask for his time, his energy, his patience and his last name. When did I become a burden to everyone who loves me? Where did that perception come from?

This love is worth fighting for. I look at him and I think of how far we’ve come and I think that in all the world he chose me, wants me, loves me. Life is too short to pull into myself, to hide it all away. For the first time in my life I believe in someone, I believe in something. How do I show that? How do I move everything else aside and let that simple fact shine through?

I want too much, too soon. Life is too short to not know the wherefore’s and the whys. Life is too short to wait for the answers to come from somewhere else when the answers already lie within. So instead of keeping it all in I’ll take the time to truly meet him halfway. In thought, in actions, maybe even in words. I’ll accept it as it is instead of asking why. I’ll show him why.

How many times do I have to try to tell you
That I’m sorry for the things I’ve done
But when I start to try to tell you
That’s when you have to tell me
Hey…this kind of trouble’s only just begun
I tell myself too many times
Why don’t you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut
That’s why it hurts so bad to hear the words
That keep on falling from your mouth
Falling from your mouth
Falling from your mouth
Tell me…
Why
Why

I may be mad
I may be blind
I may be viciously unkind
But I can still read what you’re thinking
And I’ve heard it said too many times
That you’d be better off
Besides…
Why can’t you see this boat is sinking
(This boat is sinking this boat is sinking)
Let’s go down to the water’s edge
And we can cast away those doubts
Some things are better left unsaid
But they still turn me inside out
Turning inside out turning inside out
Tell me…
Why
Tell me…
Why

This is the book I never read
These are the words I never said
This is the path I’ll never tread
These are the dreams I’ll dream instead
This is the joy that’s seldom spread
These are the tears…
The tears we shed
This is the fear
This is the dread
These are the contents of my head
And these are the years that we have spent
And this is what they represent
And this is how I feel
Do you know how I feel?
‘Cause I don’t think you know how I feel
I don’t think you know what I feel
I don’t think you know what I feel
You don’t know what I feel

Annie Lenox ~ Why

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I remember everything. Everything that my heart deems important enough to remember at least. Like the night we met, the way my heart pounded when we kissed, the realization that I loved him. The memories are wrapped in details from all five of my senses. The scent of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the sound of his breath as I pulled him close, the feel of him as he buried himself inside of me.

Not long after I moved in he arranged for a night alone, just the two of us. We showered together and went to our room. The candles we’d purchased together from Ikea warmed the room and cast the perfect light across the walls and high ceilings. He poured us a glass of wine to share, sweet homemade wine from someone his father knew.

I admit impatience. He sipped his wine and pressed play on my laptop. A haunting sound filled the room and for the briefest moment I felt like a fly caught in the spiders web. My heart raced and the moisture between my thighs was already evident though he had yet to touch me.

The silky softness of my robe caressed my nipples as it fell open. My breasts were exposed to his gaze and it crossed my mind to cover up but the look in his eyes stopped me short. I watched him take the razor blade from the package and sanitize it. Never in my life had I been so frightened, so certain that the pain would be more than I could handle.

He whispered something I couldn’t understand and held the razor blade to his arm. I saw the slightest trickle of blood and heard his sharp intake of breath. He touched his tongue to his arm then took a sip of wine. As he turned toward me, our eyes met and held. He held his arm before my mouth and I accepted it readily. The metallic taste of his life source filled my mouth and I knew then and there that nothing would ever be as erotic as tasting his blood.

With slow and steady movements he climbed onto the bed beside me. He was on his knees, looking for all the world like the god he was in my mind. I closed my eyes and sighed as the tips of his fingers pushed my robe off my shoulder. I’m sure he spoke to me but I was too far gone to make sense of it. He moved my hair and touched the top of my breast just over my heart. I nodded with certainty.

The pain shot through me as he barely sliced through my skin with the razor blade. White hot pain that sent me spinning headlong into something I’d never felt before. In the distance I heard him asking if I was alright and I felt myself nod. I leaned back against the pillows piled high behind my back and gave in to the moment.

As his mouth closed over the place he’d cut I began to climax ever so gently. I opened my eyes and wrapped my fingers in his hair, anxious to keep him there a little longer. He lingered briefly then pulled from me. His mouth captured mine and the tastes mingled on my tongue.

In an instant he was inside of me. His cock was harder than I ever thought it could be and I knew I’d never been so wet in my life. Slowly he made love to me, barely moving, staying as deep in me as he could. It seemed forever that we stayed that way, locked in the most intimate of all embraces. Moments later I felt his cock spasm and fill me with his essence.

I remember everything. Even if I didn’t remember that night, I need look no further than my left breast where the scar has faded slightly but still serves as the reminder that today I so badly need. When the last breath is about to leave my body, I’ll move his hand to cover the scar on my breast and I’ll remind him to not forget. I’ll remind him that no matter what, I remember.

When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
And you will not be alone
No you will not be alone

And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No you will not be alone then
And you will not be afraid
No you will not be afraid

When the fog has finally lifted
From my cold and tired brow
No I will not leave you crying
No I will not let you down
No I will not let you down
I will not let you down

Now comes the night
Feel it fading away
And the soul underneath
Is it all that remains
So just slide over here
Leave your fear in the fray
Let us hold to each other
‘Til the end of our days

Now Comes The Night
Rob Thomas

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They did a repeat biopsy today. More invasive, more telling. More painful. When the doctor told me that it would feel like the worst labor pain I could imagine, I laughed and nodded. Obviously she forgot to mention that it was only going to be that way if all went smoothly. It did not.

Instead of the promised ten second pain it was three solo ones lasting thirty seconds each. Wuss that I am, I cried. The nurse said she’d never seen anyone take it so quietly. I looked at her and she knew I felt like an idiot. And now? Bleeding profusely and wishing for something strong to take away the pain.

Endometrial biopsy today along with lab work. Six tubes of blood that included one for an HcG. Yeah right. Like pregnancy is possible much less likely considering the present state of my female parts. Very funny, Doc. Very. Funny. Wouldn’t that just kill everyone involved, except for Mama. She wants us to have a child. Yes, my Mama actually wants it. Obviously I screwed up somewhere along the way that God would play these kind of cruel jokes on me.

Two children born of sex that never ever was consented to. Finally I fall in love but he’s finished having children. Mama would love for us to have a baby. Now I ask you…how the hell did this happen? Just one child with him would have been fine by me. Not two or three, just one. Mama wanting so badly to see us married with a baby of our own only makes my heart ache that much more though I can’t explain why.
Tonight I am learning that there is no amount of physical pain that I can’t handle. Cut me open, rip my inner skin out, do what you will. I won’t even ask for meds to relieve the discomfort. But this ache within my heart, this emptiness in my soul, please make it stop. Someone tell me how to make it go away.

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{I'm lost and I admit it. Today took a lot out of me but I'm hopeful. The physician was amazing and I really couldn't have asked for more.
Getting a second opinion was a good choice. Now if only everything else came as easily. It's not being dramatic, it's being honest. I really am
looking for my place in this...in his...world.}

The wind is moving
But I am standing still
A life of pages
Waiting to be filled

A heart that's hopeful
A head that's full of dreams
But this becoming
Is harder than it seems

Feels like I'm
Looking for a reason
Roamin' through the night to find
My place in this world
My place in this world
Not a lot to lean on
I need your light to help me find
My place in this world
My place in this world

If there are millions
Down on their knees
Among the many
Can you still hear me

Hear me asking
Where do I belong?
Is there a vision
That I can call my own?

Show me, I'm
Looking for a reason
Roamin' through the night to find
My place in this world
My place in this world
Not a lot to lean on
I need your light to help me find
My place in this world
My place in this world

Lookin' for a reason
Roamin' through the night to find
My place in this world
My place in this world
Not a lot to lean on
I need your light to help me find
My place in this world
My place in this world

Lookin' for a reason
Roamin' through the night to find
My place in this world
My place in this world

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He didn’t touch her, nor did he look at her. With his eyes closed, he rolled onto his back and was silent. Through desire, through curiosity, she reached out to touch his bare skin. For a moment it felt as if she had touched a hot stove, and her hand went still against his shoulder.

They were both vulnerable, she realized. To their needs, to their desires, to each other. The light was red and washed with shadows. No other illumination was necessary as she took in the picture of him. He was everything she had imagined him to be, and then some. His body was that of a man, not a boy, and hers was that of a woman, not a girl. His skin was warm and something about touching him made her feel more feminine, more sensual than anything else ever had.

They came together slowly. There was no need to rush. The mattress gave, the sheets rsutled. Quietly. Side by side they lay, giving themselves time- all the time needed to discover the path that lay before them. All the time they needed to discover what pleasures could come from the taste of mouth the mouth, the touch of flesh to flesh.

Should she have known it would be like this with him? So easy. Seemingly inevitable. His skin was warm, so very warm where she touched him. His lips demanded, they took, and they gave all with such patience, such tenderness. Gently and slowly they loved, almost as if it was her first time. As she drifted deeper, she thought dimly that perhaps it was, and if nothing else, it was the first time that had ever mattered. Innocence. The realization hit her hard and made her shiver. She felt it from him, not physically, but emotionally. She would have known it anywhere, because it came from within her as well. No matter how many had come before, for either of them, they came to one another now in innocence.

Her hands didn’t hesitate as they moved over him, but they touched and stroked as though she were blind and could only gain her own picture through other senses. He smelled faintly of soap, warm water, and cologne, but he tasted richer, almost of wine and romance. He sighed and arched, and it was, to her, more moving, more poetic than any endearment could have been.

Her body moved against his, pressing, seeking. She seemed to know his movements as he knew hers, before they even happened. His fingers in her hair, his hands against her skin. Then his lips began a long luxurious journey that she hoped would never end. Never before had she been kissed so thoroughly, so openly, without pretense or assumption.

Whispers exchanged, position readjusted. She left his lips to explore the rest of him. Across his strong chest, down his taut abdomen, to the place where his arousal was most obvious. Her hands caressed as she reveled in the feel of him, the taste of him. She slid her tongue across the tip of him, impatient for the taste of him. Ever so slowly she took him in, inch by uncredible inch, barely able to contain the shockwave of pleasure that urged her forward.

Her senses were thrown into overdrive as her lips once more found his. The length of his body was pressed against her as he half rose to turn her onto her back. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him deeply, knowing that what for him may be a one time fulfillment of physical desire could tear her soul apart.

He removed her panties, spread her thighs and explored the molten center of her being. A tentative touch, an intimate caress and a kiss, the heat of passion pounding the blood through her heart, body and soul. He touched her breasts, then suckled them, bringing their pink tips to crested peaks. Waves of ecstasy rolled through her, and she whispered in earnest the plea of one lover to another. Seeking, wishing, desperately needing more of him than those first touches.

The heat seared her as she recognized the presence of sexual desire she hadn’t known in ages. Her breathing came in surrendered moans, a response to questions he asked without ever speaking a word. She felt the heat of his body, the pressure of him down the length of her. She exalted at the male strength and beauty of him.

She welcomed him into her body, at once electrified by his hardness and lost in the raw sensuousness that carried her to greater heights. In a dance as old as time, ancient give and take, they moved together. His expert touch, the fated joining left her thoughts fragmented and her deepest emotions laid bare. Together they found the tempo that bound them together, soaring higher, until at last the final peak of delight was reached.

He lay beside her, barely touching her, as she lay drowning in the floodtide of the liberation of her mind, body and soul. She wondered if there were others who understood what she hoped was true passion. Wrapped in tangled sheets, the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm, she knew she herself hadn’t truly known until moments ago.

Should she feel regret? Yes, logically, knowing he was someone she had just met, she should. She’d given more of herself than she’d intended, shared more than she’d imagined, and risked more than she should have dared. But she had no regrets. Perhaps later, at mornings light, she’d make a list of why’s and why not’s. For now she wanted to enjoy and revel in the man who’d brought the desire back to life within her. With him it had felt right, almost safe, and there was a contentment and a level of comfort like she’d never known. She smiled and tried not to worry what tomorrow would bring as they both succumbed to the numbed sleep of satisfied lovers.

**Originally featured on Sensual Venus**

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They could have been anywhere. A bar in the city, a pub in a foreign country, a honky tonk in the south. They could have been someones sister, someones brother. They could have been anything or anyone, anywhere. As luck would happen, they were together, in the same hotel restaurant. Alone.

She watched him and he watched her. They each gave tentative smiles and returned their attentions to the menus that had been laid in front of them. From the waiter she ordered a glass of white wine, from the waitress he ordered a glass of red. He took off his suit jacket and she removed her glasses, both wanting to be comfortable as they dined alone this evening.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him studying her. She licked her lips, lowered her lashes then caught him with a stare that relayed a message as old as time. He blushed and turned away, which made her smile. They placed their orders and reached for their prospective distractions. A novel for her, a newspaper for him.

She watched him make his way to the restroom and she wondered what he would do if she followed him. She blushed, knowing the direction her thoughts were going in. She pretended to read as she watched for him to return. Two minutes, then five. He passed the seven minute mark and she headed towards the restrooms. What if something horrible had happened to him?

The arm came out of nowhere, wrapped around her middle and dragged her into the body to which it was attached. She gasped, opened her mouth to scream, but found her mouth crushed beneath his. She gave herself over to the kiss. Her nipples hardened and she could feel the sweet spot between her legs growing wet. She knew he was hard, ready, needy.

In an instant he had her skirt bunched up around her waist. Her breasts were spilling out of her bra and she knew her shirt was missing a button or two. He pressed her against the wall, buried his face between her thighs. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out. The more he licked and prodded, the harder it was for her to stay quiet. The orgasm came from out of nowhere and rocked her hard. She bucked against his face, clutched at his hair, clinging.

He kissed her and made quick work of his pants, undoing them just enough to release the erection she had felt against her earlier. She moaned, calling to him. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head, then took first her left nipple into his mouth, then the right. She struggled, thrusting her hips towards him. She wanted his cock buried inside of her. She needed it.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him to her. He abandoned her nipples to hold both hands in his and slammed into her. One quick thrust, two, and with number three, he hit home, pressing himself as deep into her as he could, nudging her g-spot with the head of his cock. She screamed, just once, bit her lip, tasted the blood then moaned as he filled her. Over and over she felt him spasm, leaving no part of her womb untouched.

They kissed, smiled, righted themselves and made their way back to their tables. He moved his wine and newspaper to her table, then leaned over to kiss her. She smiled and pressed her lips to his. As the owner of the restaurant, he could do anything he wished in the restrooms, and as his lover, she was learning to enjoy the benefits of sleeping with the boss.

**Originally featured on Sensual Venus**

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{As he was holding me close this afternoon, nothing was being said. Silence is sometimes more than golden. It’s platinum, eternal and shining brightly. It is every word that applies, every sentence ever written. He kissed me and looked into my eyes before we pulled apart and I had to smile because this song came to mind. I am so very blessed, to say the least.}

When You Say Nothing At All
Ronan Keating

It’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word you can light up the dark
Try as I may I can never explain
What I hear when you don’t say a thing

The smile on your face let’s me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me wherever I fall
You say it best, when you say nothing at all

All day long I can hear people talking out loud (oh…)
But when you hold me near (oh, hold me near)
You drown out the crowd (drown out crowd)
Try as they may, they can never defy
What’s been said between your heart and mine

The smile on your face let me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me wherever I fall
You say it best, when you say nothing at all…oh

Oh, the smile on your face let’s I know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me wherever I fall
You say it best, when you say nothing at all

You say it best, when you say nothing at all
You say it best, when you say nothing at all
(The smile on your face)
You say it best, when you say nothing at all
(The truth in your eyes)
(The touch of your hand)
You say it best, when you say nothing at all
(Let me know that you need me)
You say it best, when you say nothing at all (nothing at all)

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I was thinking this morning about all the things that leave me with the most awesome case of warm fuzzies. Though the list is long, I’ve tried to shorten it a bit to keep you all from boredom.

1. The scent of my girls, fresh from the tub, snuggled in a freshly laundered towel.
2. Hearing my youngest respond to The Knight hugging me with “My Mama!”
3. Seeing my oldest consciously make decisions that a soon to be teenager would make.
4. The Knight kissing my forehead.
5. A hug from my Mama.
6. Flowers from my Daddy.
7. Christmas carols in a church on Christmas Eve.
8. Hearing the oldest guy tell me thanking me for working so hard to make them happy, for loving them and taking care of them.
9. Knowing that my Grandma keeps me on the prayer chain.
10. Watching all of our collective hoodlums snuggle under their blankets on the floor as we watch a movie as a family.
11. The sight of The Knight smiling at me when he sees me walk into a room.
12. Remembering special moments with my girls, just the three of us.
13. Babies.
14. An old couple holding hands, looking as in love as they must have looked so many years ago.
15. Remembering my grandparents slow dancing in their kitchen to a song on AM radio in the wee hours before sunrise on their anniversary.
16. Remembering Christmases from my childhood when my Grandpa would play his guitar and sing carols with all of us.
17. Waking up in my parents house.
18. The early mornings after the first alarm sounds and The Knight pulls me close and tells me that he wants to hold me before he has to get up and go to work.
19. The late nights when it’s just the two of us- midnight runs to the video store, McDonald’s, or Walmart…just because.
20. The scent of him…with cologne or without.
21. His hands in my hair, stroking my face, or pulling me close.
22. The girls arms around my neck as they kiss my cheek.
23. The sight of all the kids sleeping, like they haven’t a care in the world. Sweet and peaceful.
24. My relationship with my Mama.
25. The love that The Knight and I share.

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I’m not sure why, but it seems that all of my posts and site layout has been converted to italics. There is also a graphical glitch in the top right corner. Please be patient with me as I try to sort out the source of these issues and resolve them as soon as possible.

*Addendum*
I seem to have fixed the problems with the italics. However, the graphics glitch is still present and I am completely at a loss. Since I converted to Windows Vista in the last twenty-four hours, I assumed that was the problem. When I checked it in other browsers and on Windows XP the problem was still present. I’m working on it.

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It’s early morning, Thanksgiving Day. Though you’ll doubt it when you begin to read this post, please understand that I am very thankful for all that I have been blessed with. I know my blessings are many and I know the amazing difference they have made in my life.
I have been beyond stressed and I know it. With five kids, a man, and an expected guest list that is over 15, is it really any wonder? Not to me.

The thing that keeps playing through my head over and over…

What if this is my last Thanksgiving? What if this is my last turkey dinner with my neurotic family? It’s not about being negative or down, as The Knight so unkindly put it last night. It’s about reality. Yes, I have an appointment next Tuesday to explore other options. Yes, I’ve delayed it until I could see this doctor. Yes, I could focus on just the positive aspects.

But

The reality is, there are no guarantees. Even with a hysterectomy and chemo, I’m not guaranteed anything. Granted, no one ever is. We all die sometime. I know, I know, I know. I’m just not ready to take that kind of chance. I’d prefer to enjoy each and every second, savor every last bite of homemade cornbread dressing, and lose myself in the hugs of my Mama & Daddy…just in case.

Just in case it’s the last Thanksgiving. Just in case someone I love struggles to remember our last holiday together. Just in case my babies wonder why and I can’t be there to answer them. Just in case someone else one day shares his bed and his life.

I’m not afraid of dying. That’s the easy part. I’m afraid of missing out. Ask my Mama. She’ll tell you that I’ve been that way all my life. I hated to miss out, hated to have dreamed of the possibilities only to be told I was too short, too old, too fat, or too young. I don’t want to hear the doctor tell me that I have to miss our on all of my most precious dreams and possibilities because I’m too sick.

I don’t want to miss seeing my little girls grow into beautiful women with a wonderful sense of who they really are. I don’t want to miss their graduations, their weddings, or the day they welcome their children into the world. I don’t want to miss the guys growing up and becoming strong men who know how to treat a woman. I don’t want to miss their graduations, their weddings, or the day they become fathers.

I don’t want to leave my parents in someone else’s hands when they age and need care. I want to brush my Mama’s hair and fix her clothes when she needs it because after all that she’s done for me, it is the least I can do. I want to comfort my Daddy when no one else possibly can, because no one else is like me, the daughter he has always wished for.

I don’t want to die and leave my Knight all alone. I don’t want to die without knowing the look in his eyes when he sees me walk down the aisle on our wedding day. I want to laugh with him on the day our last child leaves home. I want to cry with him if he’s hurting, then kiss away his tears as he’s done for me time and time again. I want to know the joy of sharing his last name and his bed until I’m old and grey. When it’s time to say goodbye, I’ll leave him with a note that says, quite simply-

I’ll wait for you at Heaven’s gate
Oh, I don’t care how long it takes
And I’ll tell Saint Pete I can’t come in
Without my love and my best friend
Oh, this ain’t nothin’ new
Sweetheart, I’ll wait for you
P.S. I love you, too
Sweetheart, I’ll wait for you**

I don’t want to miss a thing.

So today when my family starts to arrive, I’ll meet them at the door. I’ll wrap my arms around them and I’ll thank them for not only being with me today, but for loving me, for allowing me the honor of knowing and loving them in return. When the blessing is said and we join hands, I won’t close my eyes. I’ll look at each and every person and I’ll have the memory of them forever embedded in my mind and burned into my heart. And when my life on Earth is about to end, it is then that I will pull from those memories. It is then that I will be safe and warm, full of dignity and grace. It is then that I will know, more than ever, more than even today, what it means to be thankful.

**From “I’ll Wait For You by Joe Nichols. Find the video, watch it.

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