The last few days have been tough. In more ways than one. For one thing, 4 days of celibacy - apart from Ramadan - is plenty for us. We're not used to it. I mean, we have sex even when we're barely on speaking terms. I have yet to figure out if that's good or bad.
Usually if we're not having sex, it's because it's the wrong time of the month for me. Or because I am too exhausted or upset or whatever. He's not usually the one with the excuse. And to be honest, am not used to a situation where am ready & he's not. It just seems weird because men are supposed to live for sex, right?
Now I'm beginning to get a new understanding of how he must feel when I can't or won't have sex. I'm frustrated. I miss the intimacy. But I haven't been saying anything because well, it's wrong to have lecherous thoughts about him when the man isn't feeling well right?
So when I woke this morning to lecherous things being done to my body, I thought at first that I must be dreaming. I'd been having quite a few of those dreams lately. But as soon as I was a little wider awake, I was scared for him. Yes, he's improved but he's by no means back to normal. Maybe he should take it easy a little longer? What if one of us makes a sudden, wrong movement in the heat of the moment & his back is injured once more? I remembered his mother telling me only yesterday on the phone that it takes him 10 days to 2 weeks to get over these sprains.
Basic fear simply overcame my basic lust. I couldn't go through with it. I froze on him. Except I think I might have left it a little too late to do that because while he did stop, he didn't look happy AT ALL.
Afterwards, he said that if I wasn't in the mood, all I had to do was say so. Not in the mood? I told him that he must be kidding, that I am so in the mood it's actually scary. He asked me so what happened?
Trick question. You see, am not supposed to mention his illness. Am supposed to pretend not to notice it. He's made it clear he doesn't like being constantly reminded or made to feel feeble & helpless when he's sick. And I had faithfully promised only last night that I would stop reminding him.
But if I don't tell the truth, then well, I don't need him to start thinking I don't want him or anything stupid like that. You never know where a man's thoughts might lead him. They're such strange, unpredictable creatures.
Talk about a rock & a hard place. In the end I opted for the truth. He listened to my lengthy, fumbling explanation and said only that I should have trusted him to take care of both of us.
Which of course made me turn on the waterworks. Big-time. What woman wouldn't? I mean, that SUCKS!!It's totally unfair! He can't turn this into a trust issue. We do NOT have a trust crisis. We have a medical crisis. I DO trust him. Completely. Implicitly. With my life.
I just don't trust an injured muscle to sustain sexual activity before it has completely recovered. And I hate seeing him in pain. So I'm willing - not happy - to wait. Surely that's not an unreasonable position to have? Why am I having so much trouble making it sound as reasonable as it is?