There’s a remarkable lack of holiday chatter on my feeds at the moment. I wonder if that’s a time zone thing, or if people have, as a whole, given up on the idea of showing off their holidays in public.
The holiday has made me nostalgic, and the nostalgia has really killed my sex drive. It’s sort of hard to be sexual when my body wants to curl up on a couch and eat cookies, and my brain swings back and forth between animal comfort and thundershower tears. I do miss my family today, and my friends. But it will be all right.
I find that sort of swinging emotional and sexual drive somewhat confusing. This morning I woke up feeling sick, as though I had been hung over for three days. I think my body revolted against my sleep schedule and lack of vegetables. Then mid-day I ate, went out, felt a bit of a tingle and maybe a goosebump here and there. I came home to my boy, and we put out candles and flowers on our couch and watched movies. I welled up briefly, in something akin to loneliness. And then we cuddled, I was better, but I could not rouse myself to sex. May’s skin against my own was far too soft and comfortable; I simply wished to stay in that bubble. I like it there.
I am sleepy, and it is far too late into this night. I will figure this sex-swinging body out in the morning.
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