November 23, 2009
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I woke up this morning to the thought, "I have to get up and cover the storage room window with cardboard or it's going to bleach out our Halloween costumes." Now I can't get back to sleep. I can't remember what I was dreaming about but it must have been fucking boring.
Yesterday we were sitting on the futon just after he woke up and he said he had a dream. He had two buttons on his neck that you could press and his head would come off. His body could move without his head and he could breath and talk and blink without his body. However, when he tried to put his head back on something was wrong. It wasn't fitting correctly onto his neck and he was having trouble breathing so he had to take it back off again. Immediately after some scientists came and took him away into a dark room and he woke up.
I didn't really think about it until just now but his dream really strikes a cord with me. When I hate myself like this I kind of just want to make entries about him.
He's getting more attractive every day. His face is slowly aging in such a way that he reminds me of Harrison Ford in Star Wars. I would strip and beg for the Harrison Ford in Star Wars. And his body is so perfectly sculpted. Whenever I read manga and angels are drawn with nothing but a few rags hanging from their pelvises, that's what he looks like. Each night when he stands in the doorway of our bedroom and all the lights are off except for the bathroom so he can take a shower, his shadowy profile is the most wonderful thing I could imagine. His shoulders are so broad and his hips don't lie and I couldn't think of a better image to go to sleep with.
Yesterday night he was working out naked in the living room and I couldn't tear my eyes away. I can never tear my eyes away when his body is on display like that. I love watching him do sit ups and work out his toned back muscles, but the most enjoyable sight is when he does leg lifts and I can see all his naughtiest parts at the same time. For me, the only thing that trumps a man's genitals is a fabulous set of luscious breasts. And of course we had sex. I played with him too much before we actually started so I only came once before he came instead of four or five times, but I think that's more fair in the long run. He could tell I wanted more and kept it up even after he was finished. I made him stop (reluctantly) so his cum wouldn't make a mess all over the bed and I went to take a shower. I guess my foreplay was really exceptional because he was still hard and I let him come on me (again?!) while I was lathering myself with soap. It was fantastic.
And I look at what I have written and I wonder what my problem is, but it has nothing to do with him. The intimate relationship part of my life is perfect and I am without complaints or unfilled desires (except for a beautiful woman) in that respect. I'm just so fucking afraid of the future. I feel like all my decisions are so serious now that if I mess even a single one up I will have ruined my life. But at the same time, can one ruin one's life if one is already on track for a Masters in Chemical Engineering even if one fails horribly come the qualifying exam in January? I don't know, and I certainly don't intend to test the waters of ruination. I'm just worried I won't have a choice in the matter. I'm so afraid.
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