15-03.14.63 in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

My my my… I hope to be caught up on reading bookmarks sometime today or tomorrow… or sometime in the next week! So… I’m sure I’ll say something on each note but… if you get a note from me that is no longer relevant, know that I truly feel bad that I could not comment earlier and please ignore any irrelevant advice… but… do note the spirit of camaraderie… even if delayed.

Today has been… entirely mental and emotional. On the one hand… today marks only ONE more month until Mortal Kombat X! The story looks so impressive. On the other hand… today marks only ONE more month until the Bar Results come out. That is an emotionally conflicting realization. I want them to come out so I can resolve these unresolved feelings of anxiety, fear, and curiosity… but of course, I don’t want them to come out because (however small or large the chance) if I failed I do not want to have to start studying again!

Of course… we’re also nearing a full month since my last intercourse with my wife. It is funny. Only a few months ago, I would have been utterly gob-smacked at the thought that I’d had sex at all that year. It is somewhat hard to believe that the the nearly three years without sex only came to an end in September of last year. But… I suppose all the studying and Bar prep (times two) and everything else going on plays tricks of the mind when it comes to time. That being said? This year is a big year. Yes, the fact that we’ve had sex of any kind this year already puts us WAY ahead of where we were for all of 2012, all of 2013, and most of 2014. But… this isn’t one of those issues that resolves itself well through relative subjectivism. I have a need for physical affection, words of encouragement, and romantic attention. Giving me crumbs as opposed to nothing is appreciated but I’m still within my rights to want more, right? I mean, honest question. I don’t want to seem ungrateful for what I’ve received already but… I would generally prefer to have sex every week… so I already see trying to get us to once a month as a compromise… but it is hard for me to be objective about this… so, honestly, if it sounds like I’m being too demanding, I’d love for a kind caring person to constructively point that out.

Falling back on an old trick this morning, because I swear I am out of ideas… I woke up before my wife would dare dream wake up. I tidied the apartment, did all of the laundry, and made some food. In other words, I tried to make the apartment and the “list of chores for the day” as small as I possibly could even before she woke up… so that she wouldn’t have all of that on her mind while she was at work. Then, as she was leaving for work, I made sure to hug her and tell her my usual “Bye, have a good day, I love you” but also tell her that I was going to shave after my shower today to “make sure I wasn’t scritchy when I kiss” her tonight. In sales we call that the presumptive close. I’m already telling her we are going to kiss tonight. Of course… I’ll try to kiss her. Try to make out with her. WON’T try to have sex with her… because I want us to be in a point in our relationship where we can express our affection physically without it devolving into sex… in hopes that, at the very least, I can get more physical affection on a daily basis if nothing else… seriously… the come home, no hugs or kisses, just… existing side-by-side is straight up creepy to me. But… we’ll see what happens. It is, of course, just as likely that nothing at all will happen… that, once again, I’ll go in to kiss my wife and she’ll turn her head or push me away. Of course, I suppose, the reverse could also be true. She’ll shrug her shoulders, walk away from the kiss, and just say “Fine, do whatever.” Is it wrong for me to feel such a passionate need (and subsequently such a deep lack) to feel desired by my wife?

All of my prose falls short
I would love to express myself
as I once did
through poetry

But this time
be an anti-poem
the anti-love or
anti-eros poem

Carving out my heart
and showing it to my
friends to see all of the
empty spaces that lay inside

Don’t suppose it matters much
that I can’t find any adequate words
and instead fall back on
what can only be described as general malaise.