There is something so delicious about driving home in the early morning, Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" blaring, hair a mess, wearing your clothes from the night before, smelling like the man you were just with. I'm savoring my moments of badness.
This is where I'm trying to stay. In the moment. What I have is so perfect. Once a week a little bit of wickedness. But I have a fear, it is the same fear that keeps me out of Target when money is tight. It is fear of The Wants. I have worked very hard to accept and be grateful for what I have exactly as it is because it brings me peace. Unfortunately with men I have not perfected this skill. I would like to assign blame at this point, damn American culture, but instead I'll refocus on me.
The fear of The Wants is actually worse than The Wants themselves. I actually don't want anything else than what I have now, a smart, fun man, who requires little, and makes me dinner every week. But in my experience in a few months the wants are going to start, the wanting of more from him, from our relationship. Even if it doesn't make sense, which it doesn't.
I am working hard to change my idea about what I want in life. When I start to have wants (that ache inside that tells me things aren't enough), I have to stop and check in, what do I want to be different? When I check in with myself I realize nothing. The wants are so empty when I stop and look inside them.
What I want to want is the now. My one night a week of total womaness with my very sweet and cool man. My six nights a week of kidness that will not last forever. My life, sweet, imperfect, and divine.