Undone

I complained yesterday that I didn't have anything to blog about. Big Cuz suggested that as I now have myself a toy-boy (well, he is nearly two years younger than me) I must "be getting some". So I should blog about it. In keeping with my commitment to telling the truth. I suggested Big Cuz was barking.

Really. Expecting me to hold forth on original sin in public. In front of my family and friends. In front of my Mum. My initial reaction was akin to the response he would have received had he suggested I actually do it in public ... only doing it in public might be less embarrassing as I could claim asylum on the grounds of diminished responsibility. Writing about it demands less diminishment and more responsibility. Only a crazy person would do such a thing. Big Cuz raised his eyebrows and flopped a sympathetic smile in the direction of the crazy person. There was no-one behind me.

So having established I am more than qualified to comment I would like to take this opportunity to talk about sex. S. E. X. It might only be three letters but start thinking about it after some lengthy abstinence and suddenly the French ones loom large in your mind's eye as you begin to wonder if you can remember how to deal with them. That and getting your knickers off gracefully. And whether to fake it or not. And whether to ... gulp ... erm ... well, I am sure you get the idea. S. E. X. suddenly feels remarkably similar to O. M.G. the only difference being that the former is less challenging for an amateur ventriloquist.

So OMG I have of late found myself in the rather unexpected position - and no pun intended - of having to consider getting down and dirty with a stranger. Okay, okay, so Mr TGTBT isn't technically a stranger. But he was. He was one of those strangers that make you go all weak at the knees as you find yourself needing to hold onto something to stay upright. One of those strangers you find yourself making friends with and, checklist to hand, giving extra ticks to in boxes you didn't know existed.

'GSOH' is a prerequisite on most checklists, but I found myself ticking 'GSOH with a smile to die for and come to bed eyes'. Der. W.T.F? Whose checklist have I picked up? Oh and look, instead of ticking 'Good talker' I put a big fat tick next to 'Good talker with lips that demand you kiss at first opportunity'. Not to mention the even bigger, fatter tick next to 'Good looking with a little dip at the base of his throat that makes you want to pour honey in it and ... ' well, I am sure you get the idea. Sometime after our first meeting it was clear I had become all undone. And he sent a text to Little Blister announcing he was too. So undone in fact he sent it to the wrong sister.

Sibling dyslexia aside, I liked his undoneness. It made mine seem ok. It suddenly felt ok to wander around feeling real and sensual and fleshly and human and animal. To feel physically alive and wanting to physically connect with another person. All of those things that all of us are, from where each and every one of us came.

SEX in upper case is in fact not an acronym. It is just a headline, there to attract attention. Something for some people to laugh at as they try to hide their embarrassment at needing something so fundamental. Something for some people to cry at as they try to cover the deep wounds received when it is used as a weapon against them. Something for some people to be shocked at as they try and deny the existence of such an instinctive right with prudishness and intolerance.

If those are the kind of headlines you are looking for I suggest you move along now, because for me sex is more precious and more primal. It is dark, it is mystery. It is light, it is life. It is our human birthright and without it we cease to exist.

The best headline you'll find here is one called Undone, because that's how I want to be. And preferably by Mr TGTBT with his smile to die for and come to bed eyes.

Yours in hope & fear, AJ x