Anal sex is a metaphor I like to use for a situation in which people in a couple make false assumptions about each other based on averages, trends, or past experiences. It happens that many do things only because they think the other wants something that they really don’t.
In the case of Fender and I, we’ve had the first and hopefully last of such misunderstandings. He thought I needed way more attention than I actually do.
The misunderstanding was born in my calling habits. Once a commitment is established, and I have permission to “fire at will”, I like to call once a day to say hello. I just want to touch bases, usually before I go to bed. I check to see if they want to see me, and if not, I go on with my day or night content that they’re alive and well. Nice and clean checking in.
Well, he assumed that my asking if he wanted to see me and saying I missed him meant that I really really wanted to see him. Now, this may be true, but I really really like to get some sleep at night as well. I really really like my work, and really really love my cats, but I don’t have to be in their butt crack every waking moment of every day. Aside of my family and very few friends, I’m basically a solitary person. In fact, I had to consciously learn how not to be a turtle.
So the long and short of it is that both of us felt pressured for time by one another. We both felt that we were being smothered.
Well, between some mediation by Shai, and some yelling at each other, we worked it out. It felt really nice afterwards. So thank goodness I will probably get my second night of good sleep in over a month…tomorrow night. Tonight, we’re going to Tel Aviv to have a chat with the owner of the fight club there on :: giggle :: Salami St.
Last night, we checked out mini pools to use as rings, and interviewed Whippet as a wrestler. We’re waiting for news about the foreclosure of the gym we’re going to convert into the club. This is going to be a busy summer.