I remember a time.

I remember a time when you reached for my hand.  Your warm skin on mine startled me.  I pulled away.

We continued to walk towards the theater and I awkwardly explained my reaction.  That we were just to be friends; no hand holding is allowed in a friends with benefits situation.  You seemed to shrug and keep walking.

In the darkened theater our hands molded to each other’s thighs and dipped below belts and skirts.  That was ok.

But don’t hold my hand.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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4 thoughts on “I remember a time.
  1. I understand NOW, but I cannot imagine having a FWB. I never was able to see myself as a FWB. Maybe I’m too possessive, or old fashioned, or….who knows. I’m very pleased to say that the judgmental person I was when I started following you (and some others) is GONE. You have continued to teach me that a strong, principled, ethical, person of values can live a non-monogamous life, and still look for that special connection to someone.

    I hope my support for you is clear, as well as my desire to see you find the partner you deserve. Keep your head up, and know your posts continue to help and educate others.

  2. Beautiful Hy! A poem indeed! There is a certain ironic vulnerability that sings. Makes me think a little of Leonard Cohen singing to Janice that he doesn’t even think of her very often in Chelsea Hotel. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, I hear that it’s close to your heart. Some of the best poems come from that place, in my opinion. But only with skill tempered talent. It’s not the first time your words have touched that place in me. Many thanks!

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