Nymphotine

In spite of the deprivation that likely awaits me abroad, I'm itchin' to get back to France. Or, more appropriately, back under my French man. The sexual withdrawals are staggering, I may soon loose my ability to walk, and I have seemingly no outlet. Living in my parent's household under my infamous and non masturbation friendly picture windows, even my once sympathetic lover, the Skype chat window, has gone frigid.

I know it couldn't possibly replace real sex, but it has to be better than nothing, right? TMI, whose dreadful faux title no longer means Too Much Info but The Man Intime, has ruled it out as frustrating.. -and I'm ruled as utterly frustrated. 

Do they make a chewing gum for this?

Bitchn' Bout Birth Control

I'm highly considering getting an IUD. The hormones from contraceptives make me crazy and give me cysts in my boobs. Not working. Anyone who knows me and knows this blog will also know that condoms ain't gonna cut it. The IUD sounds ideal, lasting 5-12 years either without hormones or just keeping them where they belong, in (your uterus,) but it's very expensive and apparently terrifying. Horror stories plague the internet of women who havent had children, like myself, and endure terrible pain, bleeding and cramping through a scary procedure involving a cervical clamp. *shudder*

It's not like I'm doing it because I WANT to- this is the other thing that's getting me- I'm doing it for my relationship. So we can continue to have sex, avoid conception for the time being, and not assail our union with emotional outbursts. I hate that I have to deal with all this and also keep it partially to myself. Taking hormones? Invasive procedures? Ouchy boobs and emotional roller coasters all because apparently BEING A WOMAN SUCKS, and contraceptives are completely our responsibility. 

If your guy was getting something painfully shoved up his penis for $500 dollars just to make monogamous sex with you safe wouldn't you feel like you should pitch in for the price? Or at least say thank you? 

I'm sorry, I'm angry. I blame the pills. I have an appointment on Thursday and my nerves are off the charts.

Kicking It: Frogs in the Face and Relationships in the Butt

In the more forested and wet regions of Hawaii there live a number of bufo toads. They like to hang out on my parent's driveway and watch danger wizz by, which rarely happens because they end up flat on a daily basis. Perhaps they're more suicidal than thrill seekers. Anyway, yesterday I didn't think of this being a pedestrian hazard and, tramping merrily along, accidentally kicked one and sent it flying upwards to hit my knee before spinning off into the grass. 

I at first thought it was a weird glob of plant matter so left it be, but then reflecting on the unusual sound and feel, and turned around to find a brown, leathery guy struggling in the grass.I righted him to discover that I had exploded his right eye and hurt or broke his front right leg. Ugh! I felt so guilty I hung around petting the shocked little fellow until it started to rain, where upon I moved him away from the driveway and under a tree so he wouldn't get flattened. 

The guilt runs deep, as last night I dreamt of giant, half dinosaur half frogs thundering through the forest and tearing my family's house to pieces, all of us running and screaming and diving for shelter. 

In closing kicking frogs is the most exciting thing happening in my life right now. For all TMI and I have been through together I can see there's no way we're going to get through this time apart. Affections are waning. It's very painful and I'm tempted to just cut it off rather than watch it sizzle out. The truth is I think hanging on to something hopeless may be more painful than actually losing it. 

Fonder or Forgetful?

No one makes me happy like he does. Or so miserable, arguably. If some younger girl asked you "what is love like?" Would you be the French actress from Coco Before Channel and say "ça fait mal," or the mother from that cheesy Casa Nova movie and say "It's like good weather every day, even when it's not."

How can something eventually develop to this level of value and preciousness in your life with not also brining with it a stinging fear of losing it? The Dali Lama said in some pocket size gift book somewhere: 

On a plane ride I had the pleasure of tasting a particularly delicious and special chocolate. It was the most wonderful and luxurious sweet I had ever tasted, and I will not forget the pleasure of eating it. However, should I never have the opportunity to taste it again, I will remain content; having had the good fortune of tasting it the one time. 

Doctor Seuss actually said the same thing with "don't be sad that it's over, be glad that it happened."

All this wisdom and I still don't see how anyone can go on blithely with so much to lose.

My beloved went back to France two weeks ago after 5 with me and my family here in Hawaii. We could have had better weather and he seemed to have been allergic to my parent's house, but all in all things went well and I relished having him home, in my arms on sandy beaches and in my bed in the cold mountain nights. I'm not going back until October, staying in the islands for my brother's wedding. Two months of wondering how much time and distance a relationship can take. Any advice on staying happy in long distance situations? Is the hen in Robbin Hood right when she says "Absence makes the heart grow fonder!" -or Maid Marian when she says forlornly out the window, "or forgetful!" 

True

People will tell you that infatuation, lust, and love are not the same things. Last night I heard that "the only true love is unrequited." While growing up and learning love from barbies to disney, from crushes to dating and dating to relationships, I've resolved that there is one kind of love, to many kind of loves, and lastly, no two kinds of love that are alike. 

The one that most of us are familiar with is butterflies and infatuation. My previous experiences with this engulfing sensation all had me convinced that I was in love.  

Here, once again in Hawaii and with my boyfriend far away on the other side of the Earth in France, I noticed a new feeling. While looking at his face on my computer screen, as is the only way for me to see him during our separation, there was no fluttering or tightening in my throat, but instead a deep warming purr, as though someone had strung a steal chord from my collar bone to my pelvis, running through my core, and struck it. 

Is it really fair to say that one kind of love, infatuation, lust, obsession, friendship, domestic, forbidden, unrequited, is any more real than any other? While each offers a new sensation or new feeling as you experience growing attached to another human being, perhaps what is most important is finding the one that is right for you- not the one that is "real."