It will all work out eventually

I’ve been thinking a lot about how lucky I am.  How I used to consider myself unlucky in love and with women in general.   Sure I could have sex with plenty but when it came to actual relationships it never worked out the way I had hoped.  Either I didn’t feel it or they didn’t feel it.  

I was reminded of this recently when my first real girlfriend added me as a friend on facebook.  We emailed back and forth, catching up, talking about her kids, her ex husband, her new boyfriend.  This is the first woman to break my heart.  I was 19 and thought I’d never recover from it.  I was crushed.  Now I wanted to thank her for it.   But how do you thank someone for breaking up with you because you found something so much better? You found what you always wanted even at 19 but didn’t’ think it was possible.  How do you say that without sounding like an asshole?

Fast forward a few days and I’m finishing up some work.  Sade had gone to bed a few minutes before and I was in a rush to join her.   I take out the trash, wash the dishes, brush my teeth and I quietly walk into the bedroom.

She’s fast asleep.  Naked and sprawled out.  My heart jumps at the sight of her, seconds later my cock does too.   I strip and lay next to her, tempted to start kissing her back or gently lick her ass, or nibbling her ear. I’m pretty sure if I did, she’d wake up and jump on me but I can’t seem to bring myself to disturb her.  She looks so breathtaking while she’s dreaming that it feels like it would be a crime.

I start thinking about the road that took me here, how it’s more than just the kind of sex I was looking for.

It’s not just about the beatings, the bondage, the amazing sex, my submission to her or her dominance of me.

It’s about the day to day, the not as kinky days.

It’s about walking in the door from work and squeezing her tight.

It’s about making her a snack in the kitchen only to turn around to see her smiling at me and finding out she was standing there the whole time just enjoying me making her something.

It’s about giving her massages while listening to This American Life.

It’s the lazy days, the planning for the future, the laughing, the inside jokes, the cuddling and a million other things.

I think back again to that 19 year-old version of me.  If I could go back in time I would have told him not to worry, that everything would work out, to just enjoy the journey and not worry so much about the destination.  That he shouldn’t focus so much on what he doesn’t have and take pleasure in the things he does have.

It will all work out eventually.