Well, predictably I haven't instituted the treating H like a piece of meat plan but I did wear a lovely piece of lingerie to bed. I am tired of hiding my sexual self. I am tired of being told metaphorically to eat my vegetables. I am tired of being told that I can't have what I want that it isn't reasonable, that it is just some nonexistant fantasy. How exactly is a real kiss every day, sex twice a week, periodic affectionate hugs, compliments once in a while unreasonable? I consider these things to be bare minimum that you extend to someone you love. Someone you actually desire would probably get a great deal more than that. I KNOW. I have been desired before. This isn't it.
We are staying married. I am staying who I am - a sexual person. H seems to be staying who he is - a largely disinterested friend with benefits (like the college roomates who have sex only when they don't have someone else). Guess I better learn to value my sleep more than every d@mn thing that actually matters to me. Maybe if I sleep my life away I won't notice that I'm only H's best galpal.
