Darling Nikki

Another tricky thing to navigate after a breakup is the loss of sexy naked time, and boy, did the New Englander and I have some sexy naked time!

People navigate this in all kinds of ways, masturbation, casual sex... Me, I'm down with the first, and have had my share of the second, but I'm not feeling like it's the way to go at the ripe old age of 48.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking about this part of our relationship, which then leads me down a path of asking myself how we could've messed up something so good? And THAT doesn't lead anywhere productive, because it tends not to include thinking about the crappy parts of our relationship that ultimately led us to the breaking point.

So what's a girl to do? I'm trying out a new strategy I learned where you name the different voices in your brain so you can better recognize when your brain is tricking you or leading you astray.

I named the part of my brain that is fixated on sex... what else? Nikki:

I knew a girl named Nikki
I guess you could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said how'd you like to waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little Nikki grind

She took me to her castle
And I just couldn't believe my eyes
She had so many devices
Everything that money could buy
She said sign your name on the dotted line
The lights went out
And Nikki started to grind

Nikki

The castle started spinning
Or maybe it was my brain
I can't tell you what she did to me
But my body will never be the same
Her lovin' will kick your behind
Oh, she'll show you no mercy
But she'll sho'nuff sho'nuff show you how to grind

Darlin' Nikki

Woke up the next morning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over and all I found
Was a phone number on the stairs
It said thank you for a funky time
Call me up whenever you want to grind

Oh, Nikki, ohhhh

Come back Nikki, come back
Your dirty little Prince
Wanna grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind

Uh-huh. Don't we all.

But for tonight, we'll have to make do with some great music, including this not-quite-as-good but kinda fun cover by the Foo Fighters...

Walking After You

With all the snow flurries lately, I've been doing my share of shoveling, and I often listen to Slacker while I shovel. Today when I went to turn it on, they had a top 33 Foo Fighters countdown in honor of that sexy frontman Dave Grohl's January birthday.

I had never heard this song before, but it sure is lovely:

Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds
dreaming aloud
things just won't do without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back

I certainly went through a separation that wouldn't do for me this summer/fall. But on his back? Nah.

if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you

Walking after him? Nah. I wanted to, but I knew that he needed to go, and that if everything I felt about us turned out to be true, he'd come back:

if you'd accept surrender
I'll give up some more
weren't you adored
I cannot be without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back

if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you

another heart cracked
in two
I'm on your back

I'm not gonna lie. I can't, really, because my blog chronicles the story of my heartbreak. My heart felt like it was cracked in two. It had some healing to do, no question. Some healing from old wounds. Some healing from new ones. And I'm still going to need to heal from that separation.

So far though, that healing seems to be happening more rapidly by embracing the love again. The love that never went anywhere.

Turns out, I didn't need to be on his back, 'cause I was in his heart. The whole time. Looking back on it now, I might've just trusted that would be the case. Because part of me knew it. But I was afraid. Afraid that if I trusted and lost, it would hurt more.

In hindsight, I don't really think it works that way, but I also wonder: if I hadn't left a space for the possibility that we weren't meant to be, would he have had the space he needed to arrive at the conclusion that we are? Methinks not.

A friend of mine said to me that she thinks if she'd gotten a phone call six months after she'd told her boyfriend what she needed and he'd chosen what appeared to be the opposite of giving it to her, she would have been tempted to tell him she'd moved on.

"Yeah," I said. "And if that had been true for me, I probably would've said that. But it wasn't." And it isn't...