About Me

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Portland, Oregon, United States
Middle aged crazy, a little on the broken side,been to hell and back and still make side trips into Purgatory to indulge the masochistic side of my personality. I'm Texan,Southern,Over-educated,arrogant, temperamental,oversexed but under-indulged.Chasing after younger men and the happiness that has eluded me for most of my life.Music and literature are my passions.Finally living the dream in my idea of Heaven.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Dear Roger: Touch

Its weird how you take such simple things for granted, things like simple human contact from the opposite sex, and when you get that contact again,even if its something as simple as a hand holding or a touch on the back, it can just leave you all flustered and twitterpated.
My kids have enjoyed making fun of me the past day or so because I got my hand held the other night. It shocked me! After all, it had been pretty damn near 17 years since a man had held my hand and I almost reacted the wrong way, because I didn't know what the hell was going on for a moment. Being touched again and having my hand held in public? I didn't know quite what to think. I can tell you that I was pretty shocked, and I liked it. Thats fairly new territory for me because after all, for the last couple of decades, I have not been involved with the nicest of fellas, with a couple of rare exceptions who didn't stick around for very long.
I came home smiling and in a good mood to find my teen son laying in wait for me on the couch. He flipped on the light and smirked at me,"Do you know what time it is? Give me the keys so I can go let the poor guy out of the trunk,okay? You have always taught me mom, No means NO! So you have to let him go mom." My son is just as big of a smart ass as I am, so I have had to deal with endless teasing about my good mood and my return at a reasonable hour,(old people jokes abound), but hes been surprisingly supportive of me getting out and he has even offered to babysit for me at a reasonable rate.
Things are steadily moving forward. Its amazing how far we have come. Its crazy around here at times but I read some of the stories on the 99% tumblr and I realize how lucky I am. I am lucky that my grandparents imbued me with the fortitude to fight and keep trying no matter how many times I get my feet kicked out from under me. I am lucky that I know that I have to keep trying and keep going for my kids because they deserve better. I am lucky that, even though things don't often work out the way I had hoped for or planned, they work out they way they need to work out. I'm tough because I have to be. I fight because I have to, and if I get to have a little fun along with way, then that's all good, but if I have to keep going on alone, I will do that too.
I have a second date coming up later this week. Im kinda excited about it. Dont really know what to expect, after all, its been a few years since I have done this kinda stuff and its a whole new ball game since my give a damn got busted. Its nice to not NEED a man, but to kinda, sorta, maybe, want one around for company. I have proven to myself I can do pretty damn much everything on my own. I have torn it down and built it back up, so maybe now I can figure out how to behave in polite society again and not be twitchy when a fella reaches for my hand.

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