With a smile
You pull the deepest secrets from my heart
In all honesty
I’m speechless and I don’t know where to start

I didn't notice until I was reading through things today that half of my post about being afraid to love didn't seem to make it on the website. I don't even know specifically what is missing, but I figure it's probably best that it didn't post, the powers that be have a wonderful way of making sure things I'm not supposed to say don't get said.

I just realized that my voice changes when I'm talking to him. Not every time I'm talking to him, but when I'm wishing to say seductive things but there are people too near to be overt. I wonder if it changes when I'm talking about him?

Afraid to love.

"The Other" and I spent a large portion of yesterday together. It was a wonderful day and I must admit on more than one occasion I wished the rest of the world could be told to bugger off so I could just be in his arms and listen to the sound of his voice. (and occasionally dirtier things) Although we found we didn't have time for dirty things, we snuck a few minutes to sit by a lake, snuggle, talk, and make out. During the talking some incredibly romantic things were said and while half of me was melting into a gooey little puddle, another part of me freaked out wanting to run away, not literally but emotionally. I'm not entirely sure what it is that motivates this fear or reaction to a certain level of emotional intimacy, but there seems to be a level where it's too close for me to tolerate and I have to do or say something to back away.

Every word he said was something I had already said to myself although had not mentioned out loud, and wasn't sure if I ever would. I gave responses that would not encourage the line of thought being expressed, gagging his reaction. After I dropped him off, I let it all just swirl through my head for the 15 min drive to work. The duality of the feelings kept me from knowing at all how I actually felt. I wanted to smile and announce to the world that I was in love, but at the same time I wanted to run from anything resembling affection. Later in the afternoon I confessed to one of my friends both sides of my emotions and although she didn't say anything she hadn't said before it did calm me down a lot and allowed me to put more rational thoughts behind the fear.

This situation was particularly unique in the fact that it pointed out to that every time I want to run away from him I end up running right into his arms. Last night within minutes of talking to "The Other" online I had invited him to spend the majority of the night with me.

I don't know if simple love and empathy is the right action right now, or kicking "The One" in the shins. Although he isn't feeling well today and was mostly morose lounging around feeling icky, it didn't occur to him to feed our lovechild. The lovechild hadn't thought to feed himself either as he was completely absorbed in a video game and then playing with "The One". This resulted in said lovechild throwing up at approximately 3am because of all that lovely stomach acid that builds up when there is nothing at all for it to dissolve. I have since rectified this problem by feeding the child, or rather encouraging him to eat while he distractedly talked my ear off. The lovechild is adorable.

"The One" and I had been apart for a week and a half until yesterday afternoon. I must admit that the being apart made me re-appreciate "The One's" presence. I missed the way he kisses, I missed the little things he does for me, I missed the way he feels when pressed against me as I sleep. I missed rolling over and wrapping my arms around him in the middle of the night. I missed his bad puns and explaining obvious jokes. I missed being able to see in his eyes that he loves me. I missed the talking over our day as we fall asleep. I missed him.

I had a rather interesting time hanging out with "The Other" today. We are still in the "been apart too long" phase where you make eyes at each other and look for any reason at all to touch. It's also a weird stage where you end up touching or taking risks that you wouldn't otherwise do, even when you don't think you feel the need to that strongly. Like all geeks, "The Other" has a plan to take over the world. His involves a particular type of technology that is very likely to take over the world with or without his involvement. We had a great discussion about how he could take over the world with this technology and what he would do with the world once he takes it over. Just to drive things home in a rather interesting way, my father brought up this form of technology too and how it is being researched and developed and how the world will change because of it. I don't know what this really has to do with anything, but I smiled inside thinking of how much the two would have enjoyed conversing on the subject.

Ok, I've been putting this off a rather long time, but I think it's time to mention Cherry. Quite a while back when I was researching how to "have my cake and eat it too" I ran across someone who has experience in the "cake" department and was very willing to answer questions and give advice and discuss things I hadn't imagined would be involved in my "cake" process. Anyway, I had many a great discussions with Cherry, including one where I gave her the nickname Cherry. As conversations developed I began to realize that Cherry was almost what I was looking for in "The Woman" and the electronic chemistry of instant messaging with her was incredible. Cherry is a hot vivacious outgoing woman with talent in music, writing, and clothing making. She leads a healthy earth friendly existence and has a penchant for flirting and seduction. Plus she can eat a garlic raw. . . . ooooooh yeah. There is really no chance of anything other than online communication with Cherry as she's already married and is looking for her female soulmate, but it's nice to know there is at least one woman out there that completely gets it and is sensual to boot.

I'm far away from my love triangle tonight. Each piece of it farther from the other two pieces than it would like to be. "The One" is holding down the fort with the lovechild. I hope they are having a spectacular time together. I miss them both so incredibly much and hate being away from the hugs and family time for long periods. I didn't really get as much time with them as I would have liked before I left, but then I was only going to be gone two nights. Two nights has turned into a week and two nights. Much longer than I wanted to be away from them. Although I hate being away, it does always make me remember all the good things, and for short lengths of time it is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I can hardly think of anything I'd like more now that to fall asleep snuggled next to my husband with my arm around him and the full lengths of our bodies touching as we drift off to sleep.

"The Other" has been around online late at night, and although it is nice to once again have his undivided attention online(well mostly undivided) I'd really much rather have him in person. There is something so comforting about the way his hands rest over me when we lay next to each other. Although in all honesty it's way too hot in my little hotel room for snuggling. I can barely handle having clothes on. (I think this is a side effect of the poisoning I am undergoing, or it could just be a genetic trait passed down from my Grandmother and her relatives who I've heard have a hard time with that whole indecent exposure law)

With all the medical intrigue that occasionally fills my life, I've had very little time or inclination to think about women in any sort of sexual way. . . Not that I don't occasionally still day dream. I have to admit I really like the idea of having a female companion, and at the same time it's a bit daunting as it will be a whole new experience and I'm really picky about my mates. I'm not the kind of girl who just falls for anyone. I can think of only three loves in my life. Two of which I have had on a sexual level, the other of which I was too naive to even consider as love.

When I was small I had a fish tank, actually we had fish most of my life and my parents have fish now. But my point is that I used to sit for hours and watch the fish swim round and round in there little tank. The life of the fish consisted of swimming up the little water stream to play in the bubbles, eating fish poop and grime growing on the rocks in the bottom of the tank, and swimming lazily back and forth across the botom of the tank. For some reason this was not only mezmorizing, but extremley relaxing.

There is so much that is running through my mind that I can't even pick a starting point and am afraid to say anything or everything might come rushing out. It's not there is anything wrong, but it isn't necessarily alright either.

I had a beautiful brief fling with being pregnant. I can't say if the father was "The One" or "The Other's" but it really doesn't matter. Either way I would have had a beautiful child and two men who loved me and the baby.

perhaps I'll talk more on this later, my computer's battery is about to run out and I'm tired, and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about all of it, and not sure I want to find out. Perhaps another time. I'm not trying to ignore you, I'm not trying to hide from you. I just can't look you in the eyes and tell you how I feel so many things I can't put into words.

Why is it that when I have the most on my mind I say the least?

Let's discuss socks

it doesn't get any more inane than a discussion on the fit and comfort of different sock types. But that would be the one running through my head at the moment. I'm wearing a grayish pair of hand knitted like socks today, they used to be my very favorite pair of socks ever, because they were incredibly fluffy and soft. They've been worn now and they aren't so soft and fluffy and the nice grey has turned to an old icky grey, and they don't classify as wonderful socks anymore.

I made it a habit a while back to buy little white bobby socks for several reasons. 1)they all match, therefore any two you find in a sock basket match 2) they are wicked cheap compared to buying soft fuzzy socks that wear out in no time. 3)when a sock gets a hole in it you can throw out just the one sock and not have to worry about having a perfectly good sock that now is useless because it has no mate 4) you always know what your socks will look like when you are buying outfits and can plan accordingly.

There are however a few major flaws with this plan, the first of which is that I can't seem to throw out the old pairs of socks that aren't little white bobby socks, and I can't seem to convince weird people like my mother that I do not indeed want cow socks or other such brightly colored hideous socks for every holiday. Then there is that small thing about buying new little white bobby socks, they don't run the same kind of sock for more than three packages, I am convinced of this. They make them just enough different that they don't match so when you go digging through the sock basket you find 17 different white bobby socks and not a single match. It's at that point that I just start looking for the colored ones because picking out two dirty grey socks or two vivid red socks is much easier than matching white socks that are SOOO close to being matches, but aren't close enough to call matches.