One of Those Life-Altering Chats

Over the couse of the last few weeks, I think Steven has wanted to strangle me. I've had doubts, second-guessing myself constantly. Did I look ok? was I gaining or losing weight? Did Steven REALLY want to marry me, or had he finally succumbed to my desire to be married? What was the change? Was it real?

Last night, it all came to a very, very important head--one of those desperately important, life-changing conversations. I don't think we've ever been this blunt or open with one another. We had gone to his aunt to get his hair cut, and while we were there, I was hounding him for attention, for confirmation. I wanted to be held and rubbed and crooned to. He wanted to play his crossword puzzle. I took the book and acted generally bratty. After we left, he pulled over in a small, run down community park.

"Knees in the seat," he commanded. The car, since the addition of the family roommates, has become his new favorite place to spank. I know he thought I was over-reacting, hard as I cried. When he sat him up and asked how I felt, if I was done, what all was I thinking--that whole mantra, all I could choke out was that he'd just ruined one of the last places we'd ever flirted.

Sidenote here: when he and I first got together, we had a very playful, challenging, competetive sort of relationship. Everything was a game, an opportunity to flirt, full of innuendo and drenched in promise. But, it's been quite a long time since I've felt that same intention. You all know how I've struggled with the sex issues, the feeling undesired, all of that. I told him that sometimes, when he spanked me for being 'smart-alec' or disrespectful, I'd been playing, and that I felt like he was trying to change my personality. That it was the same as if someone had asked him to give up all sarcasm. That I felt like it changed the dynamic of our relationship, and made me afraid to say what I might have said otherwise. And, ya know what? He listened. He heard me. I felt heard, way deep down inside, with more than ears.

He was baffled. And, so, for the first truly open conversation we've had in some time, I confessed to a lot of things: to being afraid to kiss him deeply, for fear he won't want it, or will pull away. The fear to flirt, because what if he doesn't respond like he used to? Or at all? And, my fear to instigate sex, or certain things during.

"Why?" he asked, "Why would you feel that way?" And, (because he says I keep a log book,) I brought up some of the times that I'd felt rejected or not wanted. He didn't try to defend himself. He didn't try to deny it. I asked him why he'd stopped flirting, why he'd stopped pursuing me. I told him that I hadn't done everything right either--and I really haven't.

I am THAT girl. The one that's super easy to cheat on, or to lose interest in, because I get so focused on other things. I completely overlook the relationship part of our life together, most of the time. I want to be sure the house is clean, the dogs are looked after, we have enough money, I've worked long enough, hard enough. I want to chase our dreams, so that someday, we can have a farm with horse and four wheelers(his dream there, not mine), a big off-the-house garage, kids, adopted deaf kids, cookies always baking in the oven, dogs underfoot...And I picture us happy, sitting out on the front porch, still swapping secrets...when I've let our relationship completely go by the wayside. We don't talk, I don't ask questions. I've always thought a big chunk of relationships is truly just dying to know all the little things: that his favorite color is orange, that his parents convinced him when he was little that splinters fell out when you went to sleep. That his true love is antiquity and the unique. That, despite our choice of pets, he's terrifed of big dogs....and, I quit searching. I fell into the easy comfort of being with someone, and I quit asking the questions. In response, he quit.


"I understand if you're never faithful," I informed him last night. "I get too focused, and I forget to live our life together. I know I'd be like this with anyone, and I DO love you, so I guess I'm willing to deal with it." He looked away.

"I am going to be faithful," he murmured. Then, there was silence.

"What's in your head? I can't follow you," I told him after a few long, long minutes.

"That was just..kind of hurtful," Steven responded, quiet. "You basically just told me that you were settling for me." I hadn't considered it that way, and I told him so. I had just been making the point that I was as guilty for some of the things that went down(not necessarily the cheating, though that's how that sounded I know,) as he was. That I wanted to be chased, and loved and pursued, but I wasn't giving, and a relationship is a two way street.

And, certainly, I don't think he's been perfect either, but I've spent an awful lot of time feeling the victim. I haven't wanted to dress nice for a long time, I've felt fat, I've ridden myself hard about it, in front of him, to myself; I've not worn make-up or anything other than sweat pants. And, it's not that he so much minds. But, before, I WANTED to make myself look beautiful for him. I wanted to dress in the clothes he liked, wear my make-up the way he liked. Let my eyes be huge. Make out in a car, just because. Not with sex as the end goal, but just because. Look at him, deep into brown eyes that surely are as deep as the sky and let him read my mind. The second time we ever kissed, he pulled back and groaned, and looked at him.

"What?" I felt suspicious, all straddled up in the car with him.

"That look you just gave me."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It said, 'I'm yours.' And it was perfect." And, he grabbed me again, deep kisses that I crave, even still. That's been years ago now, but  I want that kind of fun with him again.

We're trying: as one song said, 'We're not broken, we're just bent, and we can learn to love again.' I do love him. He does love me. But, we need to bring back the fun and pure pleasure of loving again. We went on a picnic and laughed the whole time. He was trying to tell me where he wanted to go, and I said, "Oh, yeah! That place we got moonlighted by that cop!"

He cracked up, hooting, "Moonlighted?? Don't you mean spotlighted??" And, we had fun. We goofed off. And, I'm really looking forward to our loving that way again. Last night, he was totally open with me. He told me, when questioned why he hadn't been the same, "I'm not as unafraid of rejection as you think...you've pulled back sometimes, too, Grace."

We both have some things to change. But, I don't regret my decision to marry him. Since that time in September, we've made great strides in our relationship. Strides I didn't even know we needed to take. And, this, this is more than a baby step. This was a hurdle.

And, ya know what WE did last night?

We made out. Just because.

And before?

We made out, pressed against the hood of his car.

Before that, we whispered secrets, and talked about work, each really listening.

And, I want to know all his secrets, and his desires, and what he loves. I want to go on a motorcycle ride and take a watermelon (flashback from one of our early dates. We road out to a rather in the middle of nowhere spot, and he forgot to bring a knife. "Don't worry, I can fix this," he bragged, and tried to bust it open on the edge of the table. Didn't work. He ended up using the edge of a grill, and we had charcoal-watermelon for lunch.) I am excited to wake up beside him. And, I miss him desperately while he's at work.

This was huge.

A hurdle.

And, it's just the start.

It's Gonna Happen

"Babe?" my voice was little over a whisper. It didn't matter. He can hear my breathing change when he's asleep.

"Mm?"

"I miss God. Like, the relationship. Sometimes, I feel like I have to choose between the two of you--what with us living together and everything. It makes me sad."

"Does it?"

"Yeah."

We lay in bed, quiet, the night before Easter, hours after my last post. I felt my whole heart breaking, wishing for something forever away. I cried, and his hand just made circles on my back until I fell asleep.

The next morning, at church, music swelled up all around and I felt at peace for the first time in ages and ages and ages. We sang, and he stood there beside me, and I felt wonderful. A beautiful reminder that not only does Perfection love me, He died for me. And for Steven. And it was amazing.

"I wish we were married," I signed to him. "That would make this perfect. Why don't we just do it? Just get married? Just like that. I don't care if we don't have a wedding. I don't care."

A speculative look. Then a flick of his hands.

"When?"

I felt a shiver of excitement. That's never how he answers. He always answers with a laugh and a shake of his head and some comment about how we're too young, or we should just wait.

"Next week?" I grinned at him. He snorted, and I was thankful for the music covering the sound. Otherwise, that might have been awkward.

"Probably not next week," he signed back. My face fell. He was probably meaning some abstract two years out date.

"When then?" A pause, a cock of his head.

"May?"

We didn't decide on May. We have decided to have a small wedding. J is coming. Dad is ok with that. It was the first time I'd told him I still saw and was close to J. And the wedding is in June. Steven insists on proposing, even though he says he feels silly asking me to marry him after we've already set a date.

I don't think that's silly. I think it'll still be special.

We had a small argument the other night about it. I feel like the question doesn't have to me "marry me"...I think it's more than that. It's a commitment to be with me and only me. It's a love me forever kind of question. It's a we're going to push through whatever we have to in order to be together. It's a promise to put the past aside and push towards a better, brighter future. Even still, I mentioned maybe cancelling or post-poning. He adamently disagreed.

"How can your mind go there?" he asked me. "No, I don't want to postpone. I sure don't want to cancel. Since we picked a date, I've never looked back. Not once. We're doing this." And, we went to Dollywood. And, then,  we went to our favorite diner near there--the one we went to the first time we got back together. Our second first date diner. :)

And, I'm excited.

He's going to marry me.

(He says he's still proposing.)

And, we're going to push ahead, and love each other, and start going to a church(assuming we can find one we agree on.)

Now, for finding the appropriate dress. :)

Today

I know I've aleady posted today. I do. I know that, later, I might regret posting again, especially since this won't be a happy-go-lucky-look-how-good-we're-doing post.

I'm not ready to say what brought this all up again for me.

It's not important, it's not pertinent.

Today is a day where my head keeps telling the rest of me that I'm not worth it.


That I've gained weight, that I'm not wanted.

That I'm broken, defective, not good enough.

Today I feel sure that every time in the past Steven's eyes strayed, I surely deserved it.

I was working too much, I was gone all the time; when I was home, even if he had wanted it, I was too tired to be willing to put out.

I goaded for fights, anything to drag my own head out of the strain and monotony of working and coming home and sleeping and getting up to try and clean, but watching my house pile up around me. Watching the puppy having accidents in the house while I was gone or asleep that sat, cold and reeking, waiting on me to pick it up.

I don't care if the house falls through.

Maybe it's better if it does.

Who's to say?

After all, I'm working all the time again. I'm still putting on weight, because, seriously, who has the time for a diet and exercise right now?

I wish I looked how I did when we first got together.

So, what's different now?

Easter Twix bars have been calling my name.

My mom wants me to go to church with her in the morning. I want to. I feel hypocritcal sitting on that chair, wishing for an innocence that was gone a long, long time ago, but I crave it. Hearing the songs that I pray every day are still true for me.

"When Satan tempts me to despair, and tells me of the guilt within, upwards I look and see Him there, who made an end to all my sin."


But, then all the whispers in my own head: I can't even make a regular guy want me, why would sheer Perfection?



I know it's grace.

Today, I hate my name.

I hope Tomorrow is different.

For now?

I'm going to take a shower.

Bad News Bear

"I'm just saying..." I huffed, irritated. We were on the way to Steven's parents' house, to show them what all had turned up at the home inspection. It wasn't good. As much as we both want this house, having a foundation problem? Bad news bear, that right there.


"Grace," he warned, "You're pushing. Quit it now, while you're ahead."

"Fine."

"Not quitting..."

"I am, too!"

"Then what's the matter with you?"

"Ugh, nothing!" And a few other, more smart-alecky responses. All of a sudden, before I was even sure what had happened, the car had whipped off the road and up a small sort of access/work driveway.

"Come over here," he demanded, eyes too bright in the darkness of the car.

"See, I'm just not feeling like that's a very good idea..."

"And why's that?"

"You're going to spank me, and I don't want that."

"You could have stopped it. The only person getting you spanked is you, Grace. I told you to quit with the attitude."

I argued a bit more, but, when he tries, Steven can resemble a wall: hard, unyielding, and dang near deaf to any pleas, demands, or what have yous. It wasn't all that hard, really. It wasn't all that long. It was just...shocking and unpleasant.

So, for the first time, I was spanked on the side of the road. Gives a whole new level of meaning to 'Don't make me pull this car over.' Go figure--he means it. He means he's done with attitude. And, he's put us on daily maintenance for a while. (He hasn't said as much, but I'll say it's until I'm done working quite as much as I have been.)

Ew.

The Little Engine That Could

The hospital was bustling--over half of my patients were incontinent, and the other half was half crazy. Not the mean kind--the older, confused, heartbreaking kind. The dim lights from the hallway cut across patient room floors, causing the one half to complain, and the other half more confusion. The RN I was working for was making me nuts; she's definitely not the get-your-hands-dirty type. So what if that meant there was only one of me to go around 20 patients?

I'm off tomorrow night. I'm going to be with Steven all day long. We're taking his family to see the house...and I can make it through one more night.

Who are you kidding? 140 hours is just too damn much. You're gonna cry.

Nope, gonna make it. That little choo-choo train on Dumbo? "I think I can, I think  I can...I knew I could, I knew I could..."? Yeah, that's me. I got this.


A flash of black jacket next to the nurse station counter as I came out of the room and a wash of relief. Steven came to work. He does that periodically--brings me lunch or a book if I have a lunch break at all.

"Hey, baby," a quick grin and a kiss. I glanced over at my scowling RN. But, hey, it's 2 am, and no one's awake to see a peck anyway.

"Did you talk to your family about going to see the house tomorrow? What time they wanted to go?"

"Oh, yeah--I just went ahead and took them."

Now I know that the wash of emotion was completely an over-reaction. The hurt feelings, the rug yanked out from under my feet feeling was more about my period starting and sheer exhaustion than it was that he went ahead and took them without me. But, then?


"You did what?" My heart stopped beating for a second, and my throat swelled, right there at work. "Without me?" Over the next twenty minutes(mostly via text, since obviously he couldn't stand there at the nurse's station and have it out with me), I accused him of making me the pack-mule for this house: the person doing all the legwork, while someone else gets to see the benefits. I even sent the horrible "F--- you, not happening" text when he finally had enough and warned me that a spanking was coming in the morning when I got home.

Fifteen minutes after that, I was awash with remorse. The nurse who'd seen my quiet tears asked me if I even loved him--how could that be in question because of one mild tiff? No matter my upset? I assured her that I did; I spent the next while regaling her with more reasons that I did love him than I'm sure she wanted to hear...and by the time that was said and done, I felt horrible.

Unfortunately, once I arrived home(And we slept for our whole day off together--until we woke up and he informed me he was giving our fridge that comes with the house away; he'd already discussed this with his mother, and his aunt needed one...), I was upset again. We'd wasted our whole day, and he was giving away things "I" was working for, without even the benefit of a by-your-leave.

Admittedly, he's not been sitting on his hands. He's done all the house legwork. All the inspections, all the appraisals, the realtor and mortgage company back and forths...but, sitting at work, cramping and crying, I didn't care about all that. So when we finally did "talk"...I did more screaming than talking.

And, now, I'm doing more sitting than standing.

At one point, I was ballsy enough to demand, "Do you really have to keep DOING that?"

A pause. "Doing what?"

"Hitting me! Right there! I hate that!"

"Here?" he asked, unfazed, as he swatted down on that especially tender spot again.

"Yes, there! Stop it!"

"No, I don't think so. This is where you sit, and I think you'll need a reminder that this attitude is really over. I'm not tolerating it anymore. I'm tired of spanking you just enough to kind of mask the behavior. This time, it's going to be gone for good. So, yes, I really do have to 'keep doing this.'" Unruffled, no irritation, no argumentative comeback that can be made to such unflappable response. So, I did what I haven't done in a long, long time.

"Ok," a definite sniffle. A sigh, and releasing of all the tense muscles. I cried. No lying there. But, I did manage to submit totally--and that's the first in a long time. Today, I'm feeling mellow and calm, despite going back to work tonight. Despite being so, so desparately sore.

Today, I'm the "I knew I could" engine---with Steven behind me, pushing me up this hill.

I Feel Frazzled...Duz I Look Frazzled

"Babe....Baaaaabbbbbbyyyyyy......Hey, hey, babe!" A jab to the ribs, (supposedly a tickle...I question.) A swat. A kiss. "Babe, wake up! It's time to wake 'em ups, Mom!" Dogs licking, licking, jumping around.

And cue open grumpy eyes.

The good news?


Steven and I are buying a house. Contract signed and everything. (This is especially good news, considering the family that moved in with us are no longer getting along with us, and out of the two bills that have come due, they've been roundly unable to pay the significantly larger one. At which point, I was informed that if I didn't come up with the money to cover their half, we'd just have to do without electric, because she "couldn't shit a gold brick, dear." Technically, I could pay it. I could. But, we also have the home inspection, the appraisal fees, and we'll need furniture, and a million other things and I flat don't WANT to.)

The bad news? I'll have well over one hundred and thirty hours--just a hair over 50 hours in overtime. And, I'm beat. I feel like I go to bed half dead and wake up just regular old exhausted.

I even got spanked at one point--though, certainly I deserved it. And, truly, I welcomed it. It was very grounding; normally, Steven doesn't allow me to pick up like that. He knows that it runs me utterly ragged and that I come out of it very much the worse for wear.

But, in this case, I have to. If we want to get out of our present situation and move into a house that's our very, very own...we have to have the funds to do it. That being said, the spanking--though I won't go into details here--was very much a safety net feeling. I'd started to feel rather like I was spiralling. Knowing I was exhausted, Steven was letting more and more slide, and I was getting worse and worse. Really, I like to know the boundaries. To me, they are safe. And, he's safe. And it was safe. And, now, lol, I'm safe.

At any rate, we supposedly close the day before his birthday--we close May 10th. Super excited about that.

But, I have to go to work. I'm sure at some point, I'll get on here and post a legit update...but, for now...

The Family Tree

While we were eating breakfast this morning, Steven pointed out that I'd lied on here, my blog. He informed me, rather smartly I might add, that I'd said I was going to post and had neglected to do so. I was mildly surprised he'd even read it, though I'm not sure why.

So, anyway... on to the update!



First--a little "so here's how the new living situation is going" commentary. You all know I rather expected it to be horrible. In fact, I looked forward to their arrival with such dread I scarce knew HOW I was going to survive the actual meeting. The inital arrival was quite stressful for me. There were people in my house, my aunt, the cousin herself and a strange man I'd never met. The cat hated our dogs and nearly flayed us alive trying to escape them.

Then, the next morning, when I woke, I looked out the window and there were four cars in the drive. All night, Steven and I had whispered, trying not to be too loud for our new house-guests...house-partners?...Steven had already left for work, and I hadn't felt so alone in some time. I called my Dad and was outside on the phone when a strange vehicle pulled up. I felt my mouth drop open.

More people! Here to help them move in! ( I didn't mind that part, but the FIRST rule we'd all decided on was to put all visitors through each other.) When Steven arrived home, he was quietly livid, and had a little chat with L, reminding her of said agreement.

I watched that conversation from a distance, and felt my heart sink further. This was going to suck. I could just tell....

And, then, just like that, everything switched all around.

We've had group family dinners(L and Steven take turns cooking).

We've played board games: (Her man, C, MUST cheat, because he always seems to win).

We've played video games...L and Steven kick my tail at these...I bump into a lot of walls on MarioKart.

We've watched movies.

They've come with us to the dog park.

We've laughed.

We've washed the dishes.

They've snuggled my boys.

We've talked and gone out to eat and shared stories(they've come from Vegas straight to good ol' Tennessee...).

All in all, we've really enjoyed one another.

And, when we're done, we all go our separate ways.


That being said, there's only one problem we've bumped into: DD.

Slowly, Steven and I have started re-introducing DD into our lives. Only the most serious offenses are spankable--or the ones that I can't seem to let go of my guilt over. This has been taking place so slowly, we've scarce noticed. We were both so comfortable with it before, that it coming back felt more like putting on a comfy pair of sweats than going and buying a new pair of shoes. Familiar, instead of something that needed to be looked at and cleaned and put up on a shelf.

Unfortunately, in our house, despite the fact that they live upstairs, you can hear EVERYTHING. That being said, there's no WAY that skin slapping skin or a wooden spoon connecting solidly with bare bottom wouldn't be heard.
The "silent" implements are really too extreme for most offenses, and the "silent" punishments are usually--USUALLY--things to kind of "tide you over" until the real discipline can be seen to. And, ya know--all four of us? We're really just home-bodies.

Now, it's possible that L knows. I feel certain that at some point I've shared that information with her. Back in the day, when we were closer.

But, there's a difference in knowing and hearing.

And, let's just say, by all rights, I've certainly got a spanking coming.

I was totally out of line today. I snapped, my attitude was atrocious, I screamed at him. Blue-dog hid in the closet. And, worse, I committed one of Steven's least favorite sins: I used people as a buffer to prevent a spanking.

This predicament should leave me pleased. I can't be spanked, after all, right?

Instead, I feel guilty and uneasy. Blegh. Ideas?