(wonders why she is stil censoring herself so much)

The last couple of times we've tried to make love, he hasn't been even able to get even a tiny way into me withoout me crying in pain. Last night we'd been playing around for close to an hour before he even tried to enter me, I was on my tummy, he entering me from behind, I generally love it that way. He has touch me, caress me, pin me down, hold me gently, he can do anything from there but look in my eyes...

It was fun last night, he'd been biting me, me trying not to scream out and disturb/alert the others in the house, each of us enjoying every damn minute of it. He was caressing me, treating me so beautifully. I was so ready for him, so wet and ready for him...

And then he tries to enter and all I get is pain. Pain at him trying to get in. Confusion. Confusion as I know how wet I was, and should be ready for him, but it was just so painful.

I start to cry. He whispers to noot cry, and I calm down.

We continuw playing, and both come, but the second do I fall flat and burst into tears.

How did I feel then? A mixture of pain, shame, frustration, self-blame and so forth. Disppointment, uncertainty.

I wish I knew why that happened, I wish I could just fix it, but it's happened more than once now. The last fwe times I've refused to let him go any further, the others over the last month I've continues but been so uncomfrtable for about five minutes into him being in me. But last night was too much.

I feel like I've brought this upon myself. I feel like I must be contributing to it somehow, like I must be exaserbating the problem by now having built up some sort of fear of penetration.

I always sound like such a whiney little brat on the phone. I'm sorry, it makes me feel bad that I don't want to lug around all my stuff all day. I'd rather not be carrying a backpack when I show up all dolled up for the dinner. I'm sorry that heels and traipsing back and forth from the car don't mix.

I'm sorry I just want to look pretty for you.

Perfection is what you have and what I constantly envy about you, berating myself for not being a smart, as applied, as fit, as healthy, and good as you are. Perfection is something that I strive for, but I don't believe I'll ever reach. It dulls my drive at times, but I can see that there is a better me out there, I just need to find a way to tap into her.

You've tapped into her. You've found her, you have ways of bringing her out to play. She just runs away so quickly, no-one but you or I ever really get glipses at her. She's beautiful. She has inner and outer beauty that I can hope to achieve. It's what I strive for. It's what you support me through.

You help me find myself in the strangest ways.

No, really, why?

Please don't forget to see me, to call me, to meet with me when you said you would. Please don't leave me there, sitting, waiting.... while you go on oblivious to the memory of saying you'd be here.

I feel sick when I'm forgotten. I sit there, trying to make excuses for you, trying not to cry in public or in front of others. Trying to explain to them where you might be that might have made you break your word.

And then you show up and say "Oh I forgot sorry" and then can't undearstand why it is I'm sitting there numb.

Just show up next time.

Somewhere in me is the size eight girl I used to know. Somewhere under these layers of excess, she's in there. She just has to figure out how to get out. Daily bike rides and swimming at the local pool seem to be in order... and a rigorous routine at that. Now, I simply need to muster up the courage to bare what is my current shape to the patrons at the pool. I'm thinking early morning visits may be best. For them and for me.

I just want to be fit, healthy, and drop-dead-gorgeous. Is that too much to ask?

The way you whisper my name send shivers down my spine, the way you snap it out when I do wrong makes me cry in agony. How is it that I can cause you so much pleasure and yet enough grief to make you look at me that way?

I know I turn things around so much, manipulating you with my tears, with my body, with everything I've got. Sometimes I feel I have to though, I feel I need to in order to get some kind of grip into a discussion or argument to get my point in there somehow. I just feel so intimidated at times when I have a different point of view. You slamming it down in an instant does not encourage me to contribute at all. And then you puzzle over why I find it so difficult at times to get my point across. Years of being treated like I don't matter. Not by you, but by others. I came to you for shelter, now we have to work on builing up my strength again. If I'm do be able to do things without you, I need a chance to learn.

I refrain from discussing September 11th and things like that in public forums as I always come across as cynical and uncaring. I care that people lost their lives. I care that these people didn't do anything directly to cause that, but what I don't care for is all of the memorials and stuff. Sure, people should be remembered, but I guess I just don't hold the same views of the events as George Bush and his cronies. I don't go for the conspiracy theories either, but I still don't completely understand the "war on terror" and so on.

Should I not be so cynical? Seriously, I'd rrather be cynical and keep my eyes open rather than following blindly behind what out "great leaders" are saying. Sure, some of it's what it seems but the rest - I wouldn't accept it on face value.

The weather's gorgeous today - it feels like spring is really coming. It's windy but the sun is shining so brightly. Perfect day for doing some washing!

Had another deep and meaningful with the boy yesterday. Yet again, I cried. I always cry. Topics included me giggling alot when he kisses me, and how that hurts him. How I've been rejecting him more often lately when he wants to have sex. How I'm still immature in so many ways, but am actually getting somewhere in my quest to grow up, so it's not all bad.

So, I cried.

And then we had the hottest lovemaking session in a couple of months.

And all was well with the world.