Saturday night I planned on having a talk with my hubby, just to make sure we were on the same page. I wasn't anxious or worried or anything like that, I actually felt very prepared and confident about it. I knew what I wanted to say, I got as far as "Can we talk". Then the strangest thing happened, usually if I find myself trying to talk about anything even the slightest bit embarrassing or uncomfortable I get bombarded with thoughts and often can't find a place to start. This did not happen, instead my mind went off the air. Now what I mean by that is, have you ever seen a TV screen tuned to a channel that is off the air? That's what happened, I could see it clear as day the "bug races" of a channel that's off the air. That's all though, not a coherent thought in my head. Why doesn't that happen when I'm trying to sleep?
So there I sat, with a blank look on my face trying to figure out what was going on. I'm not real sure how long I sat there before the frustration took over. I cry when I get frustrated, it's the only time I cry. That was not how it was supposed to go, it was just supposed to be a simple conversation. The harder I tried to figure it out the worse it got, the worse it got the more I cried.
My hubby isn't much of a talker, more of a doer, boy did he do. The images of what happened next are playing through my mind like an old fashioned slide show. I'm on my back on the lounge, click, my clothes are being pulled off my body, click, I'm being dragged to the edge of the lounge, click, my husband is looming over me. My body is responding to his ministrations, the emotions are bombarding me. It's like being repeatedly hit in the chest with a paint ball gun. The emotions are exploding, covering me in different colors. I'm hurtling down the rainbow into the pot of gold. Except it's not gold, it's the dark place. Oh no, not again, I haven't had the flashbacks in over two decades. As soon as it registered it was gone, just gone. I was in flight again, flung onto the surface of the sun, where I burned up. Oh, now I'm floating among the stars, I love the stars, so shiny, so twinkly. I think I'll just float here awhile and enjoy the stars.
When I came around I realized I was clutching on to my husband like a drowning person clutches a life preserver. I remember collapsing back onto the lounge and just lying there. I couldn't feel my body, I was numb all over. I do love that feeling. He laid down next to me and put his hands on either side of my face, looked me straight in the eye and said "You wanted to talk".
I did eventually recover enough to be able to have a somewhat intelligent conversation. At least I think it was intelligent. There was a slight misunderstanding that we cleared up pretty easily. I feel like we are on the same page now. Then my husband said something that just cracked me up. I'm not entirely sure, but I think my safe word might be "pickles". For some reason I find that very funny, of course he meant it to be funny. Guys and their ill timed humor. I felt much better after I was able to stop laughing. Might have to revisit that safe word thing though, not sure pickles is gonna work. Is hysterical laughter a valid safe word?
My husband's conclusion is this, "you're just a deep thinker, that's all". My assessment is, it's exhausting being a female, but I'll gladly be exhausted to feel like that.