Thursday, September 10, 2015

I love you

Jay calls me the next day and tells me he loves me.  I sink on the bed by the phone and tell him, “I love you too.”  Loving Jay has never been the all encompassing, obsessive and compulsive love I felt with Mike.  Loving Jay is soft and gentle.  It is easy like breathing.  It just is.  I could not believe I had found a guy who liked me for me.  I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not to get him to go out with me.  Jay has never asked me to be anything else but myself. 

On January 2nd, 2003 we have our first unchaperoned date.  I was so nervous getting ready.  I remember telling my mom, “I have to make sure I have enough money for dinner in case he makes me pay half.”  We go to a little place and I order a hamburger.  I tell him, “Now I’m getting it with onions, ‘cause I love onions and I will have bad breath after words.”  He tells me, “I’m getting mine with onions too.  Guess we will have bad breath together,” and we just laughed.  When the bill came I asked him if I need to pay half.  Charlie would do that to me, ask me to dinner and then make me pay half.  Jay looks a bit offended.  “I asked you to lunch, a gentleman always pays!”  I just smile and tell him about Charlie and me,  and how I had made sure I had enough money with me just in case.
That is one of the best things in the world about Jay is that he is such a good listener.  I think more than therapy, more than the 12 steps, having a friend and being able to talk to someone openly and honestly about my past, has been tremendously healing for me.  Knowing that he would kill the son of a bitch for me if he could does a girl a whole lot of good.  Never once has Jay ever said to me, “Quit telling me stories of your ex.  Stop comparing me to him.”  Granted Jay always comes out with a compliment after the comparisons.  Example, “Mike would always tell me when I was sick that it was all just in my head and that I was not really sick.  You know what I love about you.  That you believe me and take me to the doctor when I’m sick.” 

That Saturday we are standing in a Wal-Mart checkout line.  He is standing behind me, holding me and kissing my neck.  I am making baby talk with a cute baby in front of me.  He looks at the child and whispers in my ear, “What do you think?  In about a year? Year and half?”  I sputter.  Thank the Gods he can’t see the shock on my face.  Is he’s asking me when I think we will have our first child?  I begin to unload the groceries onto the conveyer belt.  I said, “Did you just ask me what I think you asked me?”  I think he has just asked me to marry him.  I did not know that at the moment he said it, he had meant it as a joke.  But he said later, once he heard himself say it, he meant it.  He never expected my response. 
I begin with, “I have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome.  The doctors have told me I have a 10% chance of ever conceiving on my own.  They have told me it will take a team to get me pregnant.  I think you are the man for the job.  Yes.”  I look up.  He is smiling and his bright blue eyes are sparkling.  I follow up with, “if we can’t conceive we will adopt.  If we can’t adopt we will raise dogs.”  Now for those following along, we have not even known each other a month yet and we have not slept together yet either. 

I’ve pondered over the last 24 hours how to tell you the next part.  If you knew me in person you would know that I talk about sex a lot.  I think we have to demystify the subject and remove the taboo against it.  If we don’t talk about sex it makes it harder for those of us who have been molested, sexually assaulted and / or raped to talk about our experiences.  I’ve watched the world change a lot on this subject in the past 40 years, but we still have a long way to go.  I am of the opinion that sex is a sacred and private thing between consenting adults.  I have never been one to participate in recreational sex.  Mike always told me, “You have to separate sex from love.”  I have never been able to.  When I make love I feel it is the exchanging of souls.  I think it should be a magical experience.  It is the great rite.
In this culture and I feel more particularly in the south, women are still demonized for wanting sex or having a high sex drive.  While a man who has sex with many partners is considered voracious and a stud.  Men who save themselves are looked at as being religious zealots.  But then there are those men, who have been passed over by life or by women for whatever reason and have had little or no experience in loving.  While their circumstance is unfortunate it should in no way be belittled.  They are no lesser men for this position in life, and I feel they should not be chastised or embarrassed by this.

Jay kissed like a dream.  The way he kissed me, was like he knew what he was doing.  We began to have conversations about making love.  I was not ready quite yet, despite the fact we were technically engaged, and that was fine with him.  In our conversations Jay made me understand that he had never been with anyone.  At first I was a bit shocked.  He had to convince me, but yes it was true.  I was also his first major girlfriend.  Now Jay was not a religious zealot, he had just been passed over by women. Their loss is my gain! I’ve asked him over the years why there were no real girls before me.  He has told me he has always been painfully shy around girls and by the time he got up the courage to ask them out most of them were taken.
There had been a girl before me.  Her name was Monica.  She had been his childhood sweetheart.  They had been kissing buddies in Kindergarten and first grade.  Then he had lost contact with her.  She had come back into his life his Jr. year in high school.  They tried to meet for coffee several times, but they never could get their schedules right.  She died tragically in a house fire about six months later.  Jay was heartbroken and always lamented what could have been.  He’d been on a few dates with a girl in college but other than that his experience was limited. 

I knew it would be my job in life to teach him, and I was happy for the job.  When Jay and I began to talk about sex I gave him my 4 rules to follow in bed:
1.       Don’t be afraid to laugh.
2.       Don’t be a afraid to fart.  With any luck you are going to be twisting in some odd positions.
3.       Don’t be afraid to ask questions.
4.       Don’t be afraid to speak up and ask for what you want.

My first experience had been terrible.  I didn’t want that for Jay.  I wanted his first time to magical, and it was.  It was magical for both of us.  Jay is as giving, compassionate, and as loving in the bedroom as he is in real life.  Such a complete change from what I had with Mike, and what I had only glimpsed at with Joe.  Jay has never asked me to do anything I was uncomfortable with, was against my moral compass, or that I found degrading.  I have never once had to beg. 
I think the best part is that 12 ½ years later he still wants me.  I have a little saying, “first husband wouldn’t touch me.  Second one won’t keep his hands off of me.”  Jay always has his hand on my butt in public and at home.  It’s his way of saying, “this one is mine boys.  Touch her and there will be trouble.”  I like that.  I like that a lot. 

Ilsa

 

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