Ese'me Street: out of force or sheer enjoyment...

I was at our kitchen table last night, Marcus had the cutting board out, Stella Artois on the counter, a knife in his hand, veggies on the verge of slaughter, and although the stove was near steam, it was my heart that was warming up. I am pretty bummed that my phone is letting me down, the mouse on it comes in and out, and it just plain sucks. It got me once again thinking about our trip to Chicago, and how damn witty I can be. Is it bad to type out that I might be just a bit in love with myself? Look, I have never been slender, as a matter of fact, I've always been over weight, even at my smallest, by BMI standards, I have always been obese. Yea, I said it, OBESE. But, never have I felt gross, sure I felt overweight, and wished that I could strut around without a sarong on the beach, but I always thought I was FINE. I look in the mirror and "damn" myself often. As a matter of fact, when I was getting in the shower the other day just before work, naked, I was staring at the mirror and posing, as if Hef himself was my outdated fixtures and I was a current model to be reckoned with. What is wrong with me? Or the ladder, what is right? When I was single and I would go out, I always knew that I would get attention, I always felt amazing. Any man that I have ever "wanted", I got. Listen to me. Sad? Or good? Sometimes I feel that the over indulgent love that I have for myself is my hearts overworked endogenous way of fulfilling something in me that I don't really get exogenously.

You all know Marcus, and how much I love him, how I feel that I am the luckiest girl in the world, but one thing my sweet man is not the best at, is giving me love the way I know to receive it best. Marcus is always there for me, if I ask him for ANYTHING, done...if I need him to "fix it", done...if I need him to satisfy me in the bedroom, done...on that note, have you ever had an orgasm so good it could have the potential to hurt, it's that intense? I have, and have them often, it's that done...however, the everyday "touch" acknowledgements I need, not so done. A very long time ago, my mom gave me a book called, "the five love languages", and back then I put major stock in that book, it rang true, resonated as relationship gospel, and you know if something is in pure parallel with what you already believe, then bam, it's over. The book emphasizes the differences people have in the way that they feel most loved. How when you love someone, and you give love, you are demonstrating it in the way you would like it given to you. I'm a big "touch" person, it means so much to get it, and feel most loved when I do. Touching me means much more than if you swept the floor, or cooked me dinner. And this book describes all the different ways, how you fall into 1 of 5 or a combo of the 5 ways, how crucial it is for your partner to learn the way you receive love, and how true success comes only after the both of you deliver it to one another in "their" way. That way of thinking has consumed me my entire "old enough to think on my own" life. Caused many a fight between us two, and the texture of the request isn't the same when repeated often. Oh marriage, compromise, just doesn't have the same meaning unless you are married. Here is the truth people, as a parent, compromise officially takes a new form, and the butter that spreads easier is learning to slice the bread with a different knife. Your kid has no way to know that you love it when you're touched, or that possibly crawling past you to get a toy while intentionally swiping by your leg is what will brighten your day. They just know how to exist. It is up to us to see in them the love that he/she has the capability to give. You have to learn their gestures, adopt their method, and soak in it. Why can't I apply that to my partner in life? Will my relationship with my child be doomed, because he doesn't love me the way I am comfortable with? Absolutely not. Shame on me for putting that level of importance on having my love tank suffer because my selfish way of thinking pressures my husband to relearn a method that is so uncomfortable for him. He loves the shit out of me, daily, and it has taken me becoming a parent to see that. Screw me for not learning to receive love in the many forms it exists. Love isn't a one dimensional self inflicted handicap, it's a transforming, many level, tons of flavor dish, and thanks to Adan my heart steams at the sight of many things. Below is my heart brewing with warmth over my eyes ability to transform simple images into touchable forces for my soul.