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You know that I know that thats exactly what you do when you hold my gaze a millisecond longer than you would otherwise.

You are married and I am happily married. So whats with this behaviour? You are making me do things I am not liking. I know that you know that I know exactly how you make me do that. How you make me ask you for cigarettes when I have a half pack lying in my bag. How you make me go to your side of the floor and make me linger on the stairs with the hope that we’ll walk past each other. You make me wear a little more make-up then I would otherwise. You are making me do all those things which I had gladly left behind, a lifetime back.

I know that you replay that one night in your head again and again, wondering how it could have turned out and how in the world did it turn out the way it did. I know that you know that I do the same…

I also know that while here I am sitting here sounding like I am complaining, we both know that I am not. You know that I am not the one who looks away first.

But what you might not know is that either way, I want you to stop cause thats the only way i’ll stop.



The ‘Perfect Couple’ Fallacy

There is something about the way people look at me and Husband with those eyes that make me die a little everytime, everyday. “Those eyes” which see a good looking couple, who love eachother and look so fucking good together and are successful and have their own 5 bedroom house and wonder how it can work so fucking perfectly for some people. Envy, in other words. Its sickening. It makes me hate my life which I normally, otherwise on non-hormonal days, love. Its especially sickening on days like today when the bed has that damp it-just-rained feeling and the AC is blowing this wonderful air and I am looking perfect and he is not looking at me, killing my self-esteem by the second.

I wonder if there are other married women who while changing their clothes get disappointed when their husbands are not sneaking glances at them. I wonder how many women out there lie about the number of times they have sex. Is there anyone who feels like a fraud when laughing loudly on dirty jokes knowing how the dirtiest thing in their lives is the one day old panties hanging behind the bathroom door?

Husband why do you not want to have sex with me? Why after just a year of our marriage its become a once a week thing? Is it normal? Why do people assume its happening more often than that then? Sometimes we go without it for a fortnight. Do people count the non-sex days like I do?

Husband do you know that men generally find me desirable. I might not be beautiful but I am hot and you know it. Have you seen my bikini-ready body closely? Do you know how sexually active I am atleast if not in reality than in my thoughts? Do you care? I know you love me but then why doesnt that translate here? Isnt that a contradiction in itself?

Bang me like you picked me up from a street corner some day. Let me beg for mercy and not stop still. Laugh an evil laugh if you want but fucking fuck me a little more often, please?

When I look at him…

…I feel at home. Warm and fuzzy inside.

At the age that I am, and I mean it in terms of the experiences that I have had more than the years that I have lived, one realizes how vain human beings are to think they are capable of godly, immortal feelings of “Love”. You realize how life is just about getting to breathe that next breath, and take that next step which takes you one-step closer from point ‘a’ to point ‘b’. Nothing more, nothing less. I have somehow managed to reign in my wants and desires and realized that.. and then furher make peace with it.

So when I look at him all I feel is this nice, warm fuzzy feeling inside me and I am okay with it. Thankful to God, for taking me through the winding roads and wrong turns, as they brought me home.

I didnt think I would have wanted this until recently.

Every closet seems to be so inviting. The board room tables seem to be staring at me, teasing me, about how unused they are. The print room with its constant buzzing could muffle so many moans.

And if you are already in that frame of mind and you are made to go away on a company trip for “team building” to a romantic get-away, when you are already suffering from post-menstrual horniess then you are up for some rather testing times.

I dont know if it was me but while I will openly admit that there is not even a single cute guy in my entire office building, which bytheway houses around a 1000 people, as a geneeral rule however it was very amusing to find two guys extremely attractive. OUT-OF-THE-BLUE. Suddenly!

I kid you not when I say there were times when I seriously considered jumping one of them.

Anyway nice to know that forgeting the darned/ loved engagement ring is not easy no matter what hormone levels you might reach. It didnt go anywhere apart from me dishing out some sexy moves and grinding one of them, mentally and not literally, on the dance floor .

Wow! I have grown up.

a few hours later

…So even after writing an angry post, I sat in the room huffing and puffing. A little while later hubby crawls into bed and I pick up my sheets and pillow, stomping my feet, grumbling and leave the room, obviously banging the door behind me.

Called a few people and then after an hour came back to my room. Fucking mosquitoes everywhere. I tried to sleep and then the genious idea of waking him up occured to me.

long story short. I screamed. He listened. We cuddled. We had sex!

not that bad, eh?

I know why you come back. but I also know that one day you’ll stop and thats when i’ll write about some serious stories about cougarish sexapades, and gloating about how you all are missing out!

But till then find solace in the fact that I am somewhere, sitting on my married ass, loving my husband and yet wondering why he finds it more interesting to play video games than talk to me!

Yes, that’s exactly what I am gonna vent about.

So I come back from work and he spends 2-5 hours every day playing video games. Thats 2-5 hours he doesn’t spend with me. I am still gloriously young and he’s still horny in the mornings but sometime I think of when we’ll be in our dreaded 30’s, me with breasts which have stretch marks and kids driving me mad, pushing showering and waxing down on my priority list, and I wonder, would sex be still happening then?

Would you still fuck me, hubby? Would we still not talk cause we are too tired from work? Would we still be taking each other forgranted… making singles out there jealous of how in tune we are while I sadly go online and blog anonymously about how unfullfilled I am, especially when I am fucking-about-to-get-my-period?

Would I still be PMS-ing?

As much as I love you. You really need to stop this video-game business.

I don’t know if its a me-thing, but do you ever look at a very average looking guy…who has one or two friends, never parties and hardly talks to girls, his hobbies include listening to music and watching movies. In large groups he is awkward and gawky. He hates the spotlight… and wonder how you could blow him away with your moves. How he would probably die if he ever saw you in all your cat-on-heat glory? If he gotta taste of what your libido could translate into?

How you would be better than his best sex dreams? How after you he would never be happy with anyone , since the average-girl-next-door that he will end up marrying would never measure up. The poor innocent soul would never get you out of his head. He would fuck her but dream about you.

Do you ever wonder about such stuff?

I do

I thought I would freak out about the “being married” part more than the “marriage ceremoney part”. I was very wrong.

Once the whole ball started rolling, I was just so much more concerned with the wedding itself. Since I knew there was no getting out of it and so i thought I would leave the marriage blues for later. I’m so glad I did that. Cause right after came a peace I really badly needed. The fiance was very smooth in his transition into the husband. He was caring and considerate. Not that that’s new, but he did all that in a completely new way. I nagged the hell out of him about the bathroom and the clothes lying on the floor yet he still carried on being my hubby darling. I could tell how much I was testing his patience and how much he was giving up on his freedom. Yet he never said anything. I now remember why I thought spending my entire life with him was a good idea. I remember how it felt when we first met. I remember how he used to look at me back then. He still looks at me like that. Like I am the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on. Its really sweet considering how I know that’s so far away from the reality.

 So yeah, I’m married… happily so. I know I am still within the diameter of the one month mark yet I know that it ain’t ever gonna suck like it did right before I got married. I know its gonna be fine…

 Also I have a feeling this blog is gonna suck now. This happy married thing can not result in good posts, I’m already telling you all!

… I am sure all of you are wondering about it. This is assuming my readers haven’t completly forgotten about me 🙂

well, i’ll tell you. in a few days … sowwie *insert innocent pout*

Romantic Blasphamy

Your spouse, partner, lover, fiance can never be your best friend.

He* can be more. He can be less. But he will never be your best friend. It is extremely important to make peace with it, even more so when that ‘special someone’ is going to be there, in your life in the long run.

Now why do I say this? Very simple. A best friend, is okay with the worst-you. Also no matter how much you love your best friend, his life and the decisions he makes are never going to affect your life. So the fact that he is a womanizer, who sometimes likes to hang out with the queers, loves the color purple, wears parrot green socks matched with an equally green boa, will never hamper your friendship with him. If you are hangin with company that might be a teeny-tiny vary of his colorful life, you will stand up for him, get into a cat fight, and show off the opponent’s kidney on your drawing room Mantle, for your coming generation’s to see.

Now imagine this was your fiance, we are talking about.

First of all, let’s suppose you have a real awful taste in Men, and you do find the above mentioned Sir, rather sexy, would you actually go out with him?… Knowing that he’s the man the world will associate you with?..That you might one day be sitting on stage with the guy whose real name nobody knows, since everyone has their own pet name for him… and no its not cause everyone loves it him.

..hence established he’s not your best friend and neither are you his.

Also remember, he needs to trust you. and you need to make sure that that trust is 100%. Work for a few months. Trust me, until its some psycho-convict-rapist-serial-killer type you are getting jiggy with, normal men don’t take longer than that. Cause if tomorrow, someone comes up to him and tells him that they think you are/ were up to no good or some other version of that. He should atleast come and clarify it with you. Unfortunatly, the kind of society that we function in, this happens to almost every girl out there… and let’s be honest, we all do have histories.. rather colorful, interesting ones… Now let’s suppose you say something really really nasty about a best friend of your who you just had a huge fight with. This fight was mostly your fault (we obviously blame it on the hormones)… chances are a few weeks down the line you two are going to get back to being BFFs.. However let me take you inside your dude’s head..let’s suppose you have a fight with his best friend, or his sister, or cousin or mom.. He will dig this memory out and agree to whatever the other person is saying. if not 100% than atleast 50%. He will have seen you falter. He will be aware of your mortal-ness. I am not saying he will not love you. He will just not trust you.

…and this means head-fucks you could have avoided, if you were just a little smarter.

Furthermore, you are bound to get in to nasty nasty shit-fights with your guy. Frequencies differ, but everyone does. Most men and women have the tendency to dig out the worst about eachother and get into mud-slinging. You always want to have the last word in. You do not want him to show you a mirror. Not many women have the heart to stomach that stuff, as honest as it would be.

..your best friends can call you a slut, albeit jokingly, but they can. They can know about the dude you cheated on, with his best friend. They can tell you that the red nail paint is making you look like a tramp and get away with it. It just not funny when its your guy whose saying things like that. Just like how its not cool for a girlfriend/ fiance/ wife to call her own husband gay jokingly.

So yeah, if you’re still romantically naive, and you believe that your true love, is going to be your husband, who you will never ever lie to and manipulate, and he will also happen to be your best friend, then My love, read this one again and trust me.

Your guy is never your best friend.

*Insert she/her if you are a guy