The Butterfly Temptress

I guess there’s not a lot to say. Summer is here, so I am spending time with my babies and loving being close to them. I’m hating the inability to do the things with them that I used to do, the seizures and the limitations, but having them here makes life a million times better.

For those who thought he was absolutely amazing, brilliantly funny and wise beyond his years, rest in peace George Carlin.

Thank you for your love and friendship. Thanks for the reminders to keep taking it slow, one sweet day at a time.

P.S.
We’re hanging in there. God knows it’s so very hard, but maybe we’re more tough than I gave us credit for. Most days the love and tenderness win over the thunder and lightning, so I think perhaps that’s the way it’s supposed to be. As for sex…wouldn’t you like to know. Soon, one day, I’ll dish. When it’s quiet, if you stick around, I’ll spill my guts the way I used to.

I’m still here. Still breathing and fighting. I wish I had Ted Kennedys physicians and his money but I don’t. So, we do what we have to do and put one foot in front of the other.

Sorry I haven’t updated. I don’t always have the energy to sit and write. Sometimes I play a game with The Knight and some friends we’ve made through our guild but other than that, mostly I sleep- a lot.

I have letters and cards that have been sitting on my desk for months. One day I will mail them. Maybe even before the next increase in postage. If I don’t, know that I love you regardless of whether I write or not. I’m just awful at being a friend.

That’s all for today. Hope you all are well.

Tell me why you’re here. What drives you here day after day, time after time? Stop sneaking around, trying to hide the fact that you visit. Just STOP! You have the life you want with the man you want, so go live it. Leave me to mine.

What is to be gained by coming here? You weren’t invited and you’re certainly not welcome. You don’t have to be told. You know it without anything being said. So leave quietly and never ever come back. Surely the knowledge of the heartache and pain you have caused is enough to keep you warm when nothing else ever will.

More than you or anyone else will ever know, I have finally seen the error of my ways. I don’t mention you or him or anything even related. I can do without your additions to my misery. Trust me, I have plenty of my own with you heaping it on. Everyone makes mistakes and though there are two sides to every story, you only hear one anyway, so why come here?

I am tired of fighting. I am sick to death tired of the bullshit and drama. I’m not in high school anymore and I didn’t steal your boyfriend. Whatever issues you have, please sort them out in your own backyard and leave mine alone.

This is the last time that I’m going to say anything. The fact is, it’s stalking, pure and simple. It has gone on for far too long, but no more. This is it. This is where it stops, this is where it ends.

So don’t go away mad, just go away.

I promised to update as I was able, so here I am. No doubt you miss the sex stories and the erotica, but there’s not a whole lot of that going on right now. However, you can always check the sidebar under Writing and find the oldies but the goodies.

After seeing the doctor yesterday the news is less than good. I told The Knight, of course, but I couldn’t tell Mama. So, I gave her the basics but the rest will have to wait until the next time I see her in person.

The plan of action?

To get as much done this month- as much chemo and radiation as possible. At the end of the month if there is not a significant improvement/reduction then that’s it. The doctor will send me home on hospice with comfort measures only.

He did tell me, of course. This time last year we knew that this was our last ditch effort. I was told that I probably wouldn’t see my thirty-first birthday, but it’s fast approaching. I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, they will be wrong. Maybe March will be the month to turn it all around, the month that it all falls into place and miracles appear out of thin air. They warned me, so I knew that this was the possibility but I didn’t want to believe them.

I write here because this place is mine. This is my safe haven to say all the things that normally I hold inside. My body hates sitting here in the chair I fell in love with that The Knight bought for me because he saw how much I loved it, at the desk that he bought and assembled for me because it was girly and my favorite shade of white. The desk that houses cards from friends and family, pictures drawn by my babies, and love letters from my husband. The desk that has seen countless hours of writing and video game grinds (God how I miss World of Warcraft!) with my husband.

My husband.

Remember when I never thought it would happen? Now my last name is the same as his. He smiles and cries when he calls me his beautiful wife. He calls me beautiful with my hair shorter than his and my body shutting down! I always said the man was crazy, so I guess he keeps on proving it day after day.

We talked last night about the news from the doctor. The plan is to hold out hope for this month, to keep on believing that I’ll be the lucky one. (I think he needs it more than I do at this point, so I will do it for him.) When the month is over he will take a leave of absence from work to be with me. Then we will talk to the babies and make plans for the weeks that they say I will have left.

It all seems so surreal. All around me life goes on and I feel stuck, rooted in this place. Caught somewhere between life and death where the view never changes. It’s like watching a movie that someone else has made about me and my life.

I’m tired now. I’m sorry if you came here looking for a wank or voyeuristic fulfillment. None of that to be found here lately. If you’re still speaking to me, drop me a line. Tell me what’s going on your world.

Back to the doctor today, so not a lot of time to write. I don’t know when I will update again.

Though they said it would probably happen, I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect to feel the pain so intensely. I didn’t expect to go downhill as quickly as I seem to be. Every day lately seems to bring with is something new, something else that I have to fight against. But I fight because I want to live. I fight because I want to grow old with my Knight. I fight because I want to see my babies grow up.

I’ve fallen down the stairs more. I can hardly see and there are days that holding on to even a cup of tea is almost impossible. The bleeding never stops from the front or the back and the pain is so intense that it makes me prefer labor and childbirth without drugs to this. But that’s not the worst.

The worst is the waiting. The knowledge of the dying process with a diagnosis like this. Will today be the day? How about tomorrow? The waiting and the fear of falling asleep and never waking up…those are the hardest things.

I am so happy. I am so incredibly loved at this moment in my life. All I want is to scream and stomp my feet while I cry out that this isn’t fair. It’s not supposed to happen this way. My life is beautiful, maybe even more meaningful now than it ever has been. Yet here I am, fighting this horrible illness that will take it all away. It’s hard to face the facts when you’re so sure that you’ll be the one time they’re wrong, that your life is worth a miracle.

It’s like dying in the sun.

When I’m able I will update, even if it’s short or just a video. Thank you for reading and for the thoughts and prayers. I’ll take them with me everywhere.

I haven’t made a habit of adding too many cancer blogs to my sidebar. I guess it’s pretty dumb when you stop to think about it, because this blog isn’t so much a sex blog anymore- at least not in the way that it once was. Funny, but cancer has that effect on people, I suppose. Why shouldn’t I add cancer blogs to my sidebar? This is my home after all. The place I come to when there is nowhere else, the one area that is mine to do with as I damn well please and if that includes playing Queen of Denial, so be it.

Tonight though I have realized the real reason that I don’t add most of the cancer blogs to my sidebar is that they terrify me. Each day I read and follow links to other blogs of people who haven’t beaten the odds. I read last entries of people on their last days alive or entries made by their spouses or families once they have passed and it makes me realize that the reality is what it is.

While there isn’t a doctor alive who can give any of us an exact time of death, we all die sometime. If you have cancer it will probably be sooner rather than later, but no guarantees there either. For almost two years now I’ve fought until I feel as if I have absolutely nothing left to fight with. So why am I still here? Why am I the one who gets to sit here and write yet one more blog post? There are so many others who aren’t- others who have fought harder with a better attitude for a longer amount of time, so why me?

*shrug*

I don’t have the answer. I don’t have any answers. All I have is some minuscule amount of hope left to get me through. I have family and friends that pray for me and love me when I don’t have it in me to love or pray for myself. If that’s you, thank you.

{Side note: I don’t know if I’m better or worse, but I’ll be going back to the doctor. I am still having trouble breathing and tomorrow is my last day of antibiotics. Being sick is a bitch but then again, so am I.}

We’d fought all day. Actually, we’d fought all night and into the early hours of the morning before we finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion. He stayed on his side and I stayed on mine, careful not to move or touch, barely sleeping. When we got up, it was more of the same. The day seemed to drag on forever and all I wanted was for the fighting to be over. Soon enough it was, but that’s not the point of this post. Too many times too many people post about the fights and not enough about the good stuff.

He pulled me close and I pressed my lips to his. Knowing we were both beat I wasn’t going to even bother trying to seduce him. Just a kiss good night. Then I saw him naked beneath comforter with his cock hard and I had to at least try.

I moved my mouth lower and captured his cock, sucking it deeply down my throat. He sighed and moaned, gently lifting his hips to thrust deeper into my mouth. I was hot, wet, and more than ready for my husband to make love to me. Then I heard his voice whispering quiet words of encouragement mingled with one of our hottest fantasies of late.

My hand caressed him as I moved to kiss his mouth once more. His tongue traced my ear and his breath made me shiver as he continued to talk about her, the one I long to touch once more. His hands grabbed my ass briefly before I slipped away once more to lavish praise on his engorged prick.

Before I knew it I was on all fours with him inside of me. He felt amazing and though we’ve been making love regularly, it felt like I’d not had him in ages. As he filled me with his cock, sliding in and out in a slow and steady rhythm I knew what I wanted but I was afraid to ask. Almost as if he were reading my mind he pulled out and asked if he could fuck my tight asshole. I nodded and he prompted me to get the lubricant, but I couldn’t be bothered. I wanted him right then and there without delay.

“Just get your cock nice and wet by being in my pussy then slip into my ass, please. I need you too bad to wait.”

And that is just what he did. It was slippery perfection as his throbbing dick stretched my ass and I knew the first orgasm was mere seconds away. Seconds later through a Percocet and lust filled haze I climaxed as he whispered his pleasure and grabbed onto my wide hips.

“Will you fuck me like this if she ever comes to visit? Will you put me on my back and fuck my ass while I lick her delicious pussy? That’s what I want. To feel you both at once, to experience something hot with the people I love and desire the most…”

Climax number two rocked through me and I felt him fight the urge to come as he told me emphatically that he would love to see us together like that. Time and again I came, milking him with an urgency that neither of us has known in such a long time.

I felt his fingers dig into my flesh, kneading and flexing. I squeezed and released the muscles of my ass to milk him properly, discontent to wait for him to come in his own time. Once more I came hard and finally coaxed the come from his delicious organ.

Fighting leaves an awful taste in my mouth, but there is certainly something to be said about the sweetness of coming together and making up.

I lifted this idea from an awesome blogger, Heather at This Fish. I liked the idea so I figured I’d give it a shot. Now I have to wonder if too many people who know me in real life read this blog to follow through? Oh yeah…but I don’t care. Here goes!

You probably didn’t know that I cried when I found out that Heath Ledger died. Like Heather, Princess Di also made me cry. How could I not have cried? In kindergarten we all wanted to be her, with her fairytale life and her wedding gown that went on and on. Later on I realized that I really didn’t want to be her because her life wasn’t as wonderful as she deserves. Still, I liked who she seemed to be. Especially once she stopped making her apologies to everyone for everything. Heath was no different. He chose his roles carefully and put his little girls first. Even in his death where people look so closely for scandal, he’s making no apologies because there is no scandal to be found. I like that.

I used to love Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Now I like the cheap Wal-mart Blue Bunny brand, plain vanilla with a tiny drizzle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup. I wish I could cook like they do on the Food Network. I also watch wedding shows faithfully. It’s my one guilty pleasure.

You probably didn’t know that sex toys no longer excite me the way they once did. Oh, I like them just fine, but I like my husband much better(God how I love calling him my husband!). Like masturbation no longer leaves me breathless or able to climax, toys are the same. Fun, sure but not a means to an end like they once were.

I had a dream of our child once. Just one dream of a little girl that was the reflection of the two of us. She was beautiful with her ebony curls and bright blue eyes framed by thick lashes, her tiny mouth in the shape of a perfect cupid’s bow. I held her close and nursed her as The Knight laid beside us and watched in awe. When I awoke the tears had made my pillow wet and I wished more than anything that I had the courage to wake him up and share it with him. Instead I journaled about it and I named our angel Colleen Renee.

I miss Mama like crazy. It’s silly but I wish she lived closer and I wish I could see her every day. People don’t understand, but we’re cool like that. In the last few weeks I’ve started keeping in touch with my sister again. It feels good and like Mama, I wish I could spend more time with her too.

You probably didn’t know that I’ve let go of a lot of the things I’d been holding on to. I smile more and I try to relax more. Believe it or not, I’m trying to receive more. I’m taking a step back and allowing him to love me back. Oh and you probably didn’t know that my Zune is nowhere near full, but on it you’ll find an eclectic mix of music and podcasts.

I can’t sleep at night without the help of some sort of meds, but it’s not a problem during the day. I like myself. Not the tummy or the thighs, but as a whole I’m finally ok with just being me. I still long for diamonds and for Paris but not for constant reassurance. I still can’t lie to save my life, so I don’t even try.

I think I’m pretty good at this whole love thing. I think many men would be lucky to have someone like me, but I think very few are worthy. It’s not about being cocky. It’s about being honest and I am. The coolest thing is- my husband(told you I loved it!) knows he’s lucky. We both know how rare it is to have what we have and on our worst days we’d still rather be right where we are than anywhere else.

If I had the money I’d start an even planning business because I love it. And I know I’d be good at it. Not to mention the fact that Pittsburgh could use a good one! My closet is full of old cards and letters from people who have touched my life in profound ways. Some of them won’t speak to me and others I won’t speak to. I don’t want to go back. I just want to remember where I’ve been, where I am and the journey that has led me here.

Death doesn’t scare me. Dying alone does. It’s become a major issue for me. So much so that I hate to be alone. I know no one can go with me, but I want someone there who’s not afraid to hold my hand when it’s time to say goodbye.

Enough about me. What don’t I know about you?

In my wildest dreams I never thought it possible to have been granted every single wish. Yet I’ve been fortunate enough to have experienced it. I’m a published author who still generates interest and comments. I have beautiful, healthy children. On Christmas Eve the man of my dreams gave me the ring of my dreams and proposed. Less than a year later I became his wife.

Everything I could have ever dreamed of. Every wish granted, save one…

Paris. I want to see Paris with my husband. I want to experience St. Germaine with his hand in mine. I long to move my eyes skyward and see only the Eiffel Tower shining brightly against the night.

I know it’s silly for a small town girl to have such a big time dream, but I wish it just the same.

It’s good to be back. It feels so right to sit down at my computer and let the words flow from my fingertips. Obviously it isn’t happening every day, but I’ll take it where I can get it. When I’m feeling a bit more energetic than usual you’ll find me here. Since making the decision to come back I’ve felt more in touch with myself and with the world as a whole. Since making the decision to come back, I feel more alive than I have in months and I have discovered that elusive hope that I was sure would never again be present in my life.

Though blogging apparently hasn’t changed much while I was gone, several other things have changed. I notice that a lot of my fellow bloggers have closed up shop. Some have decided to go private. Others have changed styles and goals, leaving the sex blogosphere reeling. As I look around at the boarded up windows of the shops in my hometown I can’t help but be a little sad. So many wonderful word smiths, so many sexy individuals with raunchy tales to tell have gone silent.

The chemo hasn’t been effective for me. Right now I am in the midst of fighting off infection after infection so that I can give it another try. Easier said than done when your body has nothing left to give. Still, I feel that I owe it to those who mean the world to me. It is easier to quit, to accept the diagnosis and go quietly into the night than it is to fight. I don’t know about others in the same situation, but I’m too much of a coward to quit and have to explain it to the people who love me. So here I am, still fighting.

The biggest change of all?

The Knight and I are married. It still feels so very odd to me to call him my husband but at the same time so very natural. In light of all the things surrounding my diagnosis we decided to marry simply and quietly in a civil ceremony on a quiet Sunday afternoon in the local park. We did write our own vows and exchange rings and it was perfect. I’m sad because I didn’t get the dress, the cake, and the celebration with family and friends, but in the end it was more important to The Knight to make me his wife, to share his name as he shared his life. At the end of the day nothing feels better or tastes sweeter than knowing that at long last I am his and he is mine.