Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The past several weeks have been deemed The Vanishing of the Sexy. That one little post I did about getting my groove back like Stella? Complete fluke. The joke was on me. Anyway, I'm sure it's just one of those crazy mental cycles I go through occasionally but it kind of sucks. A lot.
I want the butterflies back. I want to feel that passion again. The kind that makes my tummy flip, my breath catch, my face flush and my words jumble. To want to rip someone's clothes off so bad that just the thought of his touch makes you instantly wet and ready. But instead I sit here on the bed in my stained shirt and wool socks, knowing full well that I have a great life with many blessings. And yet, still wanting more. Always wanting more.
And not just sexually. I talk to friends living in fascinating and gorgeous cities, I see the photos they take of sparkling skylines and crowded streets, and I want that. I sit patiently and listen to others tell me about their fun filled crazy weekends meeting new people and just going out on the town and I want that, too. Or I hear of family members who are travelling to other countries on humanitarian missions, making a difference, doing good, great things for others, and I want that as well.
I know we can't do everything in life, can't try everything. But I wish I could.