PUTTING OUT THE FIRST TIME...

Oh My God!!!

I did it again...

I let him eat my "cookies" before even letting him know me. 

What is always wrong with me?

What would he think of me now?

I guess I have really spoilt my chances...

*Sigh...Sigh... and deeper Sigh...*

Does this sound familiar?

I believe almost every female has passed through this before...

You know, the guy you meet, who you think he's nice and perfect and all that...

The guy who does everything right... the guy you have envisioned as being "the one"

And more importantly, the guy whom you really, really, like...

He asks you out on a date and you agree,

Its like magic to you, the conversation is flowing,

He's everything you pictured and a little more...

The date is over, your mind is made up...

He kisses you and the next thing;

You're both wrapped up in sheets, tangled bodies, peaking emotions...

All this comes to an explosive stop...

THE MORNING AFTER!!!

You awaken, your mind is racing and the next thing is:

Yep, that's you, curled up in that little corner of your mind,

You glance at your surroundings, taking everything in...

No, you were not drunk, you were very sane, you actually wanted this to happen...

But then, it really isn't about you at this point...

It is about him... you already know where you want to be with him;

You already know how you want this to end... as a matter of fact, this is just the beginning for you.

BUT...

What does he want? was this just a simple night of pleasure? or was it the start of something new?

Does he like you? or does he just see you as a means of release?

sex on the first date: a miss or a hit?

Different people have had different things to say on this, 

Can anything meaningful come out of it?

How does this affect your respect level?

Has it spoilt what you both have been building?

What next after this?

The thoughts and questions can be really overwhelming...

In actual fact though, does it really matter?

You meet a guy, you have amazing chemistry, its not just sexual,

You're both comfortable around each other, you can both be silly and act stupid,

You can even fart in front of him and he burps in your presence!!!

You are free to tell him about your escapades and he is telling you about the girls he has had things to do with...

So you had sex... does this really change all that?

Does it have to be so complicated? I mean, it had been building up for quite a while...

Yes, I know that we females go to bed with all sorts of emotional attachments and all,

So that kinda makes it difficult for us to see clearly after this has happened...

But whatever happened to... talking bout it perhaps?

I dunno but it just seems logical that for a person you claim to tell almost everything to, this shouldn't be an exception.

Honesty... No? Yes?

At least, you get to know where you stand, where you both stand...

And it takes you a step further in moving on...

Does it have to be so dramatic?

Don't you think that instead of shying away from it, you should both lay your cards on the table...

Let him know that this is what you want, and he says if he can handle it or not...

If you both want the same thing, then you both end up happy...
And if not... then another one bites the dust.
So its not always that easy, hell, it is never that easy...
But then again, what's done is done right?
Should sex on the first date be the 'deal breaker'?

A BROKEN SPIRIT...

Mama always said that marriage was the hardest thing anyone could embark on...

I used to think she was exaggerating; after all, she and papa were very happy;

And papa loved her.

She also used to say that habits got worse in marriage...

I never understood what she was talking about.

I wrote it off as musings of a troubled old mind.

But I never forgot one morning, when she came to dress me up for school...

She had puffy, red eyes... She had been crying...

And I had asked her innocently, why?

She looked at me and smiled wistfully...

And She whispered; there are some things that you cannot hope for.

and when you realise that, all that's left for you to do is cry...

As usual, I didn't understand.

After school that day, I came home to announce that I wished to be like her;

Her reaction both surprised and bothered me...

She instantly grabbed me by the arms and shook me quite violently while muttering;

You should never wish that!!!, You should never wish that!!!.

Crying, I ran to my room. Mama had hurt me.

But more than physical hurt, She hurt me emotionally.

I was 5 and I didn't understand...

Some twenty something years after, I am beginning to see clearly and understand well what Mama meant...

I'm beginning to see too clearly what my mother saw...

I am married now with my own little girl...

When I was to introduce him to my family; Mama with her ailing voice had said to me sadly, 

He's just like your father.

And I had giggled excitedly, Yes Mama, He's just like Pops.

It is true, I married a man just like my father.

And everyday, I wake up to a new found hatred for Him.

Does my husband love me? Oh Yes he does;

Of that I have no doubt.

But He loves me the wrong way...

The man I fell in love with, the rock I had grown to depend on, the man who I felt completed me...

That man is gone... Sometimes, I wonder if he was ever there at all.

How can somebody change so drastically?

Or were there tell-tale signs?

Was I blind to the truth?

Did I choose to ignore what I knew deep down?

Or like my Mother, was I resigned to the excuse of "love"?.

Of course I knew, I knew who He was before I married Him...

He had shown me on numerous occasions his true person.

But much more appealing to me were his passionate pleas of love.

He would hurt me and with that same passion, love me.

Ours was a destructive relationship. 

Oh yes, my husband loves me; I see it in the way he looks at me...

As if I'm non-existent.

Oh yes, my husband loves me; I see it in the way he cringes when I touch him...

As if I carry pure poison in my fingertips.

Oh yes, my husband loves me; I see it in the way he so easily puts me aside...

As if he cannot be bothered by anything I remotely have to say.

Today is our wedding anniversary...

I have donned on my best...

Made what used to be his favorite meal...

I hear him enter the driveway, hear the key in the lock...

I smell his perfume even before he steps in; close my eyes and breathe deeply,

Savouring the scent of my husband that time will afford me.

That is the closest I would ever come to touching him.

He looks at the table; shakes his head and walks upstairs...

He'd rather read the paper than eat the food his wife has made...

I follow him upstairs, in to our bedroom,

I want to touch him so bad, to kiss him and have him hold me...

To hear him whisper in my ears how sorry he is and how much he loves me...

To have him smile at me... to have him even look at me...

But I hold back and ask quietly, 

Does She love you like I do?

He replies by turning off his bedside lamp and easily falls asleep.

We both sleep in the same bed, but it would have made no difference if I was sleeping on a cold street.

I say this, there are worse things a man can do than physically abuse a woman.

At least, those scars would heal.

There's that by the way, the physical abuse... but there is that which won't ever heal.

So I'm left here, 

Silently dreading the day my little girl would look up innocently at me...

 And tell me that she wants to be like me...

.... MISTY DREAMS...

He comes to me... every day... every night;

He assails my senses; fills my very core with the essence of His presence...

And like the faithful subject that I am, I accept Him.

Every visit is an experience... and I am left with juxtaposed feelings of satisfaction and urgent need...

He is real to me, He encapsulates the utmost strength of desire.

I want Him, I need Him, I crave Him...

I have fallen, fallen so deep into this abyss...

I am on the brink of sanity...

He drives me to peaks unknown, territories uncharted...

Leads me to places that can only be described as Fantastical...

This yearning, this passion, these flames that refuse to be satiated.

They burn.. they burn deep, they burn fierce... they burn...

Deep licking flames, being fanned to life by the simplest touch...

He encompasses me, very pungent, very thick...

Trapped in His desire and being freed in my want...

With Him is life... with Him is love... with Him is my destiny...

I know Him, yet I have never met Him...

So familiar yet so strange...

I know His every outline... every contour, every silhouette...

I know Him.

The way His mouth bends in a sweet smile,

The way He breaths, His very heart beat.

I have kissed His lips, tasted His love from the very fount...

His lips like sweet drops of honey... His desire is the antidote to my poison.

Every feeling, every word, every touch I know...

I have Him right where I want Him to be.

I have imagined it all.

So, He comes to me... every day... every night

and like the willing subject that I am, 

I answer His every call, attend to His every need...

Feed His every desire, fan His every flame...

Because...

In His desire, I find my desire...

In His passion, I find my passion...

In His need, I find my need...

And in His essence, I find... My Being...