celibacy is no laughing matter. I didn't choose to be celibate, at first, but I did yield to its sensibility after viewing the potential candidates out there. I mean that as far as celibacy goes per my definition and that would be to fly the airplane solo for awhile until it either crashes or is manned through hostile takeover.
Sex is something I have prided myself on at being good at. The running joke is I am good at only four main things and sex happens to be one of them, cooking, mothering and writing are the other three in no respective order. But sex is what's been on my mind since I have been able to reach that mighty little spot that seems so hard for partners to find even though they pass by it a hundred times trying to look for it. I know where it is and how it works and even how to coax it when it is over worked and lately, I just am not feeling like sharing it with anyone at this time. I am tired of the games we play and want a game free zone from here on out. I don't want to see pictures of someone's body parts at the cost of me sending them one in return and I don't want to send them to anyone, did this once and regretting it today.
What I do want is to own my own happiness for a while. I have been looking in all the wrong places and have found I am most pleased when I am alone because I don't let myself down to often and when I do, I know I am sorrowful for the lack of knowledge that led me to do so. So, from here on out, I am exclusively dating "myself" and will be happy in my own company. I will dine with me and shower with me and play with me and even have my usual arguments with me and sleep with me. I will buy myself a flower and surprise myself through my own spontaneity. I am going to have a fulfilling relationship alone. I have had sex a total of six times this year and could actually live without that memory, however short it was. Before that I had none for eighteen months.
Celibacy seems to be the message the fates want to send so I will yield to it no matter how scared I am of becoming some old, embittered woman like my own hateful mother. I don't think the fates and gods that be expect me to keep my hands away from myself so have decided that I will allow myself the fantasy of romance with a faceless name and a nameless face when I delve into the art of self love. I don't know why it is so important that I remain chaste, to a degree, at this time, but I am sure it will all sort itself out in the wash somehow. I am not even going to speculate as to why or what purpose they have and trust, for once, that they know what they are doing. I am tired of beating my head against a brick wall and coming up with the "loser" sign in the form of an "l" shaped bruise. It is high time I take myself and them seriously and do what is best for me and my child and keep as far away from men as possible. I will talk and chat and flirt and such but any intentions on their part to persuade me will fail because I cannot afford to make an ass out of myself again. I can't take this anymore.
Chastity is something that was robbed of me by men and boys. It was something I had no choice in giving up, just like innocence, and today I make a point to try and obtain a sense of wholeness through my own salvation and review. I am looking inward and hoping to find a map to the outward mobe that will guide me through the rest of my life, short or long.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
No comments:
Post a Comment