Him. Me. Sex. Go....

My god, it’s hard to write sex at your desk at the day job when the phones keep ringing and people want to know stuff and all you really know at that moment is what he is doing to her on the word document before you. I find writing sex mechanical. You have to pay attention to where everyone's hands are and what they're thinking and feeling and if you had to do that in real life you'd never have sex because he should know where his hands are and she should - like any real woman - know what she's doing because sex is a feel-good no brainer. Him. Me. Sex. Go. I'm a doer not a writer nor am I one of those authors who wait for their 'muse' or their characters to talk to them. God damn it you're having sex - now go! Tell the muse to piss off and be all sensitive and validated somewhere else. 

I think you see my point. It’s valid to write sex at the day job because all work is equal and if you don’t get caught it’s all justified. And if you're dumb enough to get caught? Lie, burst into tears or fainting might be good. 

I rest my case.  

Uh oh...

…he’s reads my blog. He just told me. I am gobsmacked. Yes, I know an internet blog is not a private thing but it was like the second last bastion of defense I had against him. Yeah, I know, dumb but there it is. Who knew he would even be interested? Because of him, I have no idea who I am anymore and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I like it. I hate it. I am daily confused by him. I want him gone now. I want him to stay for as long as he can. It’s hard and fast and will end in a wild explosion yet I want to see how big an explosion. I want to be sitting as an old lady somewhere with a smile on my face making the other old ladies jealous with wonder.

So - him - the one with the sexy voice, the wicked words and the sweetest thoughts. Him – the one who has wandered into my boring, controlled life and disrupted the hell out of it. Him - the one I alternatively want to punch, kiss, yell at and back away from at a million miles an hour – and have - because he knows way, way too much about me. Him – the one who panics me and enthralls me. Him - who makes me want to laugh and then kick something through a wall because damn it he’s a smart arse know-it-all and worst of all he’s right. Don’t you hate that when someone can see through your disguise? Him - I want to thank for being a really, nice genuine bloke with no preconceptions about the ‘ideal’ woman - but then I just really want to arm wrestle him to get my control back even though he never took it away. Him – who makes me do stuff I have always wanted to but never did because – well, just because – he knows why. What he sees in me I have no idea yet I’m still talking to him trying to work out if he’s on drugs or just a dear sweet friend and lover who just likes me as I like him. I believe ‘like’ is sometimes more powerful than love.

Can people change your life so profoundly in such a short space of time? You know, if you have of asked me that a couple of months ago, I would have said ‘no, I’m too ornery to change and I like being bossy and stubborn and doing things my way and I’m not changing for no one – nuh-uh – go away – piss off.’ And yet I have changed and I feel lighter and freer because of it. I believe some people are born to be catalysts in your life and that by gentle, persistent force they make you change without you even realizing it.

So to you, my dear …yes, I admit it – I have changed. You know that. You have done that for me and I love you for that. Okay…that’s about as mushy as I get…

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Go Ahead : Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?