Put a Star on the Calendar in Book Six: Trying to Hold On 2019

Last night, I went to bed very late. Even later than Wife which is rare. I went to bed very tired, a little drunk, very plugged up. When I awoke in the morning, I quickly noticed the absence of my Wife from the bed. I unclogged my nostrils with three kleenexes, now sopped with mucus and blood. That’s always the way. My nose doesn’t merely produce “boogers” these past many months/years… there is now always blood. Sometimes a little, sometimes copious amounts. One reason why I have an ENT appointment this month. Due to my clogged nose and the fact that such wild temperature swings as we’ve been experiencing don’t sit well with my body… I assumed that my wife had excused herself at some part of the night to retire to one of the guest rooms. I got up to take my pill, noticed the TV on in the upstairs guest room, and saw her shuffling about, stirring to rise herself.

After swallowing my pill, I returned to the guest room to greet her to the day and thank her for selecting to excuse herself rather than wake me. She wrapped herself in the blankets and started doing some of her morning stretches. I joked, as I am by now expected to, by suggesting I could help stretch her out. After concluding her stretches, she excused herself to take her pill and after she returned to the guest room I could smell the faint smell of mouth wash on her lips. This, finally, gave me real honest hope of something sexual. Wife rarely takes good care of her hygiene; at least, rarely does it to a level that would be considered “professional/every day” so mouth wash is typically reserved for when she wants to be physically close with someone. Upon her return to the bed, we spoke more and she said, “We could have some sexy times if you wanted. I know you were kind of hoping for it after the date last night, but I was just… so tired. Don’t know why but I was bushed!”

I removed her underwear, the only clothing she was wearing, and digitally stimulated her until I could feel her dampen. The sex wasn’t “OMG so hot” or even “passionately erotic” but instead… it was the kind of sex I needed, the kind of sex I want her to know I’ve missed. Because our love making is rarely a torrid affair of sweat, sheets, and passion. It is usually much more reserved but involves a long, deeply connected hug. Like… simply two people enjoying being in as much physical contact with another as possible. It wasn’t romantic or wild; it was sweet.