miracle falls flat
I have been using reddit, so airing my whine around others, hoping for? I dunno. Doesn't do me any good and this in fact is better because I know I won't get responses at all. When I do get responses they're often a drawback, not a help. Like scolding me for something that isn't even in the topic but they read between the lines and want to correct me. Or platitudes. Oh I hate those. And really, my situation is pretty rare if anyone in the whole world ever had it at all. Today's helpless bitching session focuses on my marriage. Oh I've had some big sessions around my mother and sister this winter, and my failure to coe with people generally. But today it's Mr.
Miracle? Wha?
Well not long after we married, our sex life died. He never talked about it so I don't know how it bounced around in his head. I wasn't happy about it but between his pure mindless oafishness and my physical situation it just wasn't happening. Turns out a huge problem was the tumour in my belly. But I never got to discuss that with him either. Because he won't.
Well after the surgery I decided to transition. I'd have started that a lot sooner if not for him, and he didn't seem to give a damn and I wans't likely to stick with him. I think I mentioned it to him at some point but really, we don't discuss things. I sit and try to be patient while he lectures me on today's topic of doom and dismay. That's it. That's our fucking relationship. I periodically have an emotion storm, or used to, where I'd try and get something out of him that could somehow promote affection or intimacy between us. But no. We don't even touch. I've tried lately but it feels super weird, and I frankly don't feel like I've got permission.
Well ok, so transition is underway. The hormone shots I give myself have given me a sex drive. From the first week. Almost every night I masturbate. Ohhhhh, sorry, dear reader, do you have such tender sensibilities that you a: were stupid enough to imagine along and b: can't handle the image you created? In the dark, honey, always in the dark. If you don't masturbate you're stupid or haven't got a sex drive. Well anyway. It gets worse. See, waaaaay back when we were struggling and I was still hoping to be able to do my marriage bed duties, I bought a dildo about the size and configuration of my spouse's member. I also happen to have another slimmer one made for ass training that an ex lover left behind. I'm not above a little cleaning and repurposing. I'm not rich enough for such squeamishness. That crap is pricey and you have to go into those stores. If my discussion bugs you, you should be able to sympathize with my reluctance to go shopping. Well ok, so tools have been around and I've been using. I started small. With great surprise I was actually able to accommodate the small one. It only hurt a bit. This became part of my routine. Then I got brave. Couldn't really fit the big one but I worked on it, so to speak. Eventually my flesh adjusted as it's made to do and indeed, I feel I could accommodate the human without risk of internal tearing.
Ok. Well I'm up there thinking about that and how much better a living dick would be. I finally resolve to announce to him that this has happened, what i've been doing, and what it means for us.
I got up the courage last night.
I think he softly uttered some kind of groan. Not sure. Nothing. I told him and nothing.
I'm left all night and day sitting and wondering what the fuck happened in that bombed out brain when my little missive drifted down into the dust. Is it there, unrecognized? Did he fail to hear what I was saying, that we could have sex again? Does he have ED and can't so he's just not talking about it? Is he gay and that's part of the problems we always had and this excuse to go abstinent suits him? Is he punishing me back for all the years I so selfishly withheld intercourse? I would have done anything else but the ass cancer made intercourse impossible and he will tolerate no other activity! Or is he unable to look past my looks? I mean, I'm ugly as fuck. I wasn't planning on having the lights on! He's not exactly a greek adonis himself. Scrawny old man with sloppy hair who bathes once a year is not a prize catch. I was just going to sit on his dick and ride. In the dark. Facing away. My long hair over my ass should provide his fave view just fine. Then I just need to pretend I'm still masturbating.
Damn. It's a goddamn shame is what. I hope he comes around. Trips over the little letter in the dust of his crazy brain and reconsiders perhaps. I dunno. Does he even understand that I didn't have a choice or is he firmly convinced the sex starvation all these years was purposeful and personal?
I hate dealing with dishonest people. It's a constant unnecessary mind fuck. We could have been fuck fucking instead by now. Every goddamn night. Every night. Sometimes multiple times. I wake up for it. I mean, that HRT is the bomb, man, it makes me WANT. And dumbass is going to pass on it. I was kind of hoping if our sex life was going as I transitioned, he might just realize he's gay one night and get more out of it than ever before and be happier than ever before and slide on into a happy gay marriage without the same triggers that living with a woman caused.
But I don't know. He may yet just drive away. The financial pressure right now is pretty ugly. He could just pack his vehicle and go back to his mother. She'd be thrilled to have him back. She could die in place with him as caregiver and provider. He'd feel like the most important person in the world all the time. I'd .... well I'd flounder immediately. I owe more than I own but own enough to lose.
So frustrating.
And it's not that I can't have living dick. It's that I can't give this to HIM. To us. As a couple. That we miss out on this. All the benefits it has to offer to him, to me, and to us. As a married couple. And the joy it could possibly bring if he IS a deeply closeted gay man. Which I really have thought from the beginning. Straight men like looking at the woman, not just the ass. Gay men like to stare at the ass like that. And if he was gay, it would also explain why it took him nearly an hour every time. Most men have trouble holding back, this one couldn't get there.
Well it's frustrating. He's so tied up in crazy. I look crazy, but he IS crazy.
Miracle? Wha?
Well not long after we married, our sex life died. He never talked about it so I don't know how it bounced around in his head. I wasn't happy about it but between his pure mindless oafishness and my physical situation it just wasn't happening. Turns out a huge problem was the tumour in my belly. But I never got to discuss that with him either. Because he won't.
Well after the surgery I decided to transition. I'd have started that a lot sooner if not for him, and he didn't seem to give a damn and I wans't likely to stick with him. I think I mentioned it to him at some point but really, we don't discuss things. I sit and try to be patient while he lectures me on today's topic of doom and dismay. That's it. That's our fucking relationship. I periodically have an emotion storm, or used to, where I'd try and get something out of him that could somehow promote affection or intimacy between us. But no. We don't even touch. I've tried lately but it feels super weird, and I frankly don't feel like I've got permission.
Well ok, so transition is underway. The hormone shots I give myself have given me a sex drive. From the first week. Almost every night I masturbate. Ohhhhh, sorry, dear reader, do you have such tender sensibilities that you a: were stupid enough to imagine along and b: can't handle the image you created? In the dark, honey, always in the dark. If you don't masturbate you're stupid or haven't got a sex drive. Well anyway. It gets worse. See, waaaaay back when we were struggling and I was still hoping to be able to do my marriage bed duties, I bought a dildo about the size and configuration of my spouse's member. I also happen to have another slimmer one made for ass training that an ex lover left behind. I'm not above a little cleaning and repurposing. I'm not rich enough for such squeamishness. That crap is pricey and you have to go into those stores. If my discussion bugs you, you should be able to sympathize with my reluctance to go shopping. Well ok, so tools have been around and I've been using. I started small. With great surprise I was actually able to accommodate the small one. It only hurt a bit. This became part of my routine. Then I got brave. Couldn't really fit the big one but I worked on it, so to speak. Eventually my flesh adjusted as it's made to do and indeed, I feel I could accommodate the human without risk of internal tearing.
Ok. Well I'm up there thinking about that and how much better a living dick would be. I finally resolve to announce to him that this has happened, what i've been doing, and what it means for us.
I got up the courage last night.
I think he softly uttered some kind of groan. Not sure. Nothing. I told him and nothing.
I'm left all night and day sitting and wondering what the fuck happened in that bombed out brain when my little missive drifted down into the dust. Is it there, unrecognized? Did he fail to hear what I was saying, that we could have sex again? Does he have ED and can't so he's just not talking about it? Is he gay and that's part of the problems we always had and this excuse to go abstinent suits him? Is he punishing me back for all the years I so selfishly withheld intercourse? I would have done anything else but the ass cancer made intercourse impossible and he will tolerate no other activity! Or is he unable to look past my looks? I mean, I'm ugly as fuck. I wasn't planning on having the lights on! He's not exactly a greek adonis himself. Scrawny old man with sloppy hair who bathes once a year is not a prize catch. I was just going to sit on his dick and ride. In the dark. Facing away. My long hair over my ass should provide his fave view just fine. Then I just need to pretend I'm still masturbating.
Damn. It's a goddamn shame is what. I hope he comes around. Trips over the little letter in the dust of his crazy brain and reconsiders perhaps. I dunno. Does he even understand that I didn't have a choice or is he firmly convinced the sex starvation all these years was purposeful and personal?
I hate dealing with dishonest people. It's a constant unnecessary mind fuck. We could have been fuck fucking instead by now. Every goddamn night. Every night. Sometimes multiple times. I wake up for it. I mean, that HRT is the bomb, man, it makes me WANT. And dumbass is going to pass on it. I was kind of hoping if our sex life was going as I transitioned, he might just realize he's gay one night and get more out of it than ever before and be happier than ever before and slide on into a happy gay marriage without the same triggers that living with a woman caused.
But I don't know. He may yet just drive away. The financial pressure right now is pretty ugly. He could just pack his vehicle and go back to his mother. She'd be thrilled to have him back. She could die in place with him as caregiver and provider. He'd feel like the most important person in the world all the time. I'd .... well I'd flounder immediately. I owe more than I own but own enough to lose.
So frustrating.
And it's not that I can't have living dick. It's that I can't give this to HIM. To us. As a couple. That we miss out on this. All the benefits it has to offer to him, to me, and to us. As a married couple. And the joy it could possibly bring if he IS a deeply closeted gay man. Which I really have thought from the beginning. Straight men like looking at the woman, not just the ass. Gay men like to stare at the ass like that. And if he was gay, it would also explain why it took him nearly an hour every time. Most men have trouble holding back, this one couldn't get there.
Well it's frustrating. He's so tied up in crazy. I look crazy, but he IS crazy.