I have been unbelievably exhausted lately, for all kinds of reasons, including a bout of sporadic insomnia. Tired as could be, I still drove the 8-hours-each-way to see Robbie this weekend. It was worth it, as always. We had one of the best weekends imaginable–as he said, it felt like the first year we were together.

Home again the last couple of nights, I’ve felt the wave of sadness and stress that usually follows separating from him. (The fight I often precipitate right before leaving his house has been on my mind, too–how do you spell “s3lf-defeet1ng?”)

Last night, tossing and turning in bed, fussing about all our “relationship” stuff and trying to breathe deeply, it occurred to me that maybe I needed a different approach. I was also distracted from my concerns, I admit, by a parade of profoundly perverse sexual fantasies. I thought it might be a good idea to encourage them. So I did something I haven’t done in ages–I had a good old-fashioned wank. (Why I haven’t done this in ages is a whole ‘nother story, and I’d have to write posts and posts to even figure out the answer.)

I ended up squirting (a new trick!) all over the bed, and I was quite pleased with my little solution. I was even more thrilled, in a juvenile way, when I rolled over and saw that the wet spot was shaped precisely like a gigantic cock and balls. I was so thrilled I even took pictures of the sodden zone (did I mention it was huuuuge?). I’ll post ’em if I get enough nerve.

Oh yeah, and I slept insanely soundly and woke refreshed. I’m thinking I’m onto something here, something really revolutionary. Stay tuned for my discoveries.