When do you think it is OK to talk to W about my emotional needs, or at all?
after she removes both valve covers and turns the engine to top dead center
I don't get it, sorry. I would like to say that we went to eternal flame falls today and we had a great time. The bad part about it all, it was spur of the moment W had no clue and therefore she was not dressed for the occasion.
I'm a vague one aren't I? Guess you never had one of those air-cooled Volkswagens where you had to adjust the valves every month. I might as well just say it then. Chicks dig motorheads not EMO boys talking about how they are unloved and alone their dark bedroom.
You are not going to come off as a "pillar" of emotional strength and confidance if you are talking about your emotional needs a week after she unlocks the bedroom door and starts talking to you again. You were not the one having the affair, and sneaking around and lying. You should not be the one taking "the temperature of the relationship" and asking for hugs and exhibiting fear of abandonment. Aren't you suppose to be the one leading and making her feel secure, protected, and important?
Me, Me, Me, feed my needs.
Emotional maturity instead of emotional neediness! You can connect with your woman without verbally expressing your dependence. She's not a chicken salad sandwich; she can read you through your actions and your leadership.
In my world, if I was to start talking about a need for admiration and affection and hand holding, my wife would take one look at me and say, "why don't you watch 'Bethenny Getting Married' she'll teach you a little about confidence and independence."
Anyhow, Since its Friday, I got a another great "day in the live of Stephen" story about Gas Light Falls.
When I was a boy, I use to hike those woods day in and night. I had this big old friendly husky. If she could talk she probably would have only said "pet me, pet me, come on, pet me, pet me."
This was back in the day before seat belt and leash laws. So, we're hiking through the woods, and ol' snoopy books up ahead. She must have seen other people and was trying to get some attention. When I catch up with her, she's inside this pile of blown over of trees and brush begging for pets from 2 old guys. 2 real old guys, George Burns' type. 1 old guy is in his underwear with a camera on a tripod. The other is naked in some Bacchus pose on a blanket, with grapes and wine and the blown over trees in the background. And there is my dog snoopy smelling this old guys butt. Horrid memory but the funniest thing I ever saw in all my life.
