Sunday, October 9, 2011
First off, I want to say that I have been given the green light by Abel to share stories about our developing relationship. I gave him a bit of a tour through my blog, and through other places where I write. I let him know why I write, and how I try to be honest, and straight forward about each development in my life journey. He said he completely gets it, and has no worries about his name coming up now and then.
Watch out Abel, you don't know what you just signed on for!
Anyway, one thing that is certainly new, well not completely new, is being sexually active again. I feel like I have been on a long walk through the desert, and have now landed in land of milk and honey. My dry spell is over, and I am truly enjoying an aspect of life, such as passion and romance, that I have gone without for quite some time.
This weekend gave Abel and I much time to be together, walking, enjoying nature, sharing meals, working on my yard, and yes, some fun time in the sack. But what was most significant about today, was not about something sexual, but something else that happened in my bed. Being held.
Let's just say this, I have always been considered quite the caretaker. I shoulder the burdens of my children, and I shouldered the difficult challenges that came along with Michael's illness. In my intimate relationships, this has also tended to make me the more dominant one. The one who does more of the holding, and less of being held. To be perfectly honest, this was something that became quite a problem for me after Michael got sick. Our relationship was turned on it's heel, and what used to be a two-sided intimate relationship, began to feel top heavy. I didn't often get to feel cared for, as I was doing most of the care taking.
Today, as we laid on my bed, I was holding Abel in my arms, and talking about some of the things I went through in my relationship with Michael, and with my loss. Abel was a really good listener, and thanked me for trusting him with my thoughts and feelings. After a slight pause, he sat up, and asked me to lay head, and body, across his. He then guided my head to lay exactly above his heart, and then wrapped his arms around me.
There we laid. Me being held. There we slept. Me being cared for.
To be honest, I initially felt quite uncomfortable. This is not my role.
I'm the dominant one. I'm the one who takes charge. I'm the one who does the holding. Then, as I began to listen to his breathing, and feel the steady beat of his heart, I relinquished the upper hand, and surrendered.
I felt such peace. I felt such gentle caring.
It felt like such a gift.