The "you're mine" possessive vibe of LFL's husband prompts me to start a new thread.
But first, a spoiler...no, I didn't ML with W following the end of the moratorium(EOTM). However, I feel that may change very soon.
The EOTM is a subject that has come up a lot the last few days. Usually mentioned in a playful, light-hearted manner. She fell asleep early on NYEve, and last night, too, but I'm not ready to make my move yet, so I'm not concerned. Yesterday, while she was pouring coffee, I went up behind her and grabbed her tush with both hands. Me: These are mine. W: Oh, no they aren't. They do not belong to you.
Note for all people unfamiliar with Ms.Hdog: she is all about women overcoming their historical view as chattel. The suggestion of ownership has been a subject of controversy in the past. (ha ha "controversy", a euphemism for rage-splattered lecture).
I would usually slink away after a rebuff like this, even though it was a pretty minor one. But not yesterday.
Me: Oh yes they are. They are mine. And so are these. (My hands wrap around her, and squeeze her boobs, which, by the way, haven't been squeezed since the "Great Boob Squeeze of 2007")
Did she spin around and sucker punch me? Nope. Did she engage me in a debate about the inappropriateness of my speech and actions? Nope.
She just smiled, lightly shrugged my arms away and said, "whatever."
The fact that my touches and words did not result in violence, anger, or other unpleasantness has cemented in my mind an idea that I had been turning around in my noggin' the last couple days:
The Sexual Moratorium, and the EOTM, have pushed a giant, invisible, RESET button of our relationship. Or, perhaps more specifically, they have pushed a reset button in me. The EOTM, coupled with deep study of the No More Mr. Nice Guy book and online forum, and LFL's insistence on hair-pulling, and a multitude of other sources/advice/reading material, (Nopkins, RJ's story about the "woman of valor" blessing, MJ's "black guy" article, etc.) have led me to decide to stop being so f'ing concerned about what SHE wants, and more in touch with what I want.
I want to be the old Hairdog that didn't care so much about offending her, and just spoke my mind. MY mind. Not the mind that I thought SHE wanted to hear.
What the "these are mine" incident (and some other interactions) tells me is that it is good for me to be my ol' inappropriate self, and that it may even be good for the "relationship."
My theme song, this week, is Tom Petty's "Don't Back Down". (along with that Lou Reed song, of course).
