If I was a better writer, I could describe the way watching each individual leaf on the huge buckeye tree outside my practice makes me feel. There is a primal nature to it; one that makes me want to immediately rip my clothes off and go tearing through the front doors and out into the wind.

I've spent the majority of my life pretending to be like other people; pretending not to feel things as deeply and intensely as I do. It's difficult to ignore and not get caught up in the small moments of life instead of "keeping my nose to the grindstone" and practicing the mundane and menial like the rest of the population seems to be doing.

I'm not built like that. I feel, with heightened senses, which is why I sometimes come off as cold and hard. I build up those walls so that people don't understand how easy my heart is to capture and break. Very few people have seen into the courtyard beyond those walls. I'm fine with that.

But now you know my secret. This is why meaningless connection, the wide expanse of the internet and random sexual encounters, have been such a huge part of my life. I relish them - they keep me from attaching and getting hurt. The more I can fuck and run, cut and run... well, the better off I am.

I was driving home from a very lovely dinner with coworkers this evening when I had one of those moments. It was brought on by nothing in particular; merely the wind on my face and the music from the speakers. I listened to the words, really listened, and felt the breeze blowing my hair.

I felt perfect at the moment. Whole. Beautiful.

It was unexplainable really. I hope to have that again soon.

To be honest, I haven't been writing much at all lately. I've been thinking. My mind has been a swirling vortex - creating, destroying, piecing together and tearing apart.

Due to a series of events beyond my control, I've been pushed beyond my usual thresholds for pain and suffering (the pain kind, not the type I enjoy) and have probably been a horrendous nightmare for those close to me.

After tomorrow, relief comes. The insanity that is my work schedule begins to right itself and we start the downward bike ride into a new (partly) job and more days off.

But I understand what is important to me. I understand, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that without time to myself and the ability to pamper and pleasure (in the most naive sense of the word, although not always so) both my internal and external bodies I will go out of my mind.

I've also been having a lot of vivid dreams that I don't remember after awaking lately. Strange dreams. Some sexual in nature (I've had sex with both my coworker and a friend who blogs - though on hiatus lately - in the past few days), others more spiritual (I've begun a daily gratitude list to remember to appreciate the little things and find each moment as precious as it deserves to be), but all revolving around the central theme of "good things" in life.

I need more of that and less stress. I need a good session - any volunteers? *grin*

Before I step out into the breezy late spring air this evening, I wanted to let you know that I am thinking of you.

Another post is in the making, I'm pregnant with words.

I knew as soon as he kissed me that it was a kiss with intent. Kisses of affection, kisses that bind us together in domestic life and partnership, have been the most common lately. This sort of kiss, filled with abandon and promise, was more than that.

It's no secret that I haven't been "doing the deed," as it were, quite as often as I'd like. I have a rather epic sex drive that is impossible to match or exceed for most people but, during our good periods, Bear has (literally) risen to the challenge.

Needless to say, I was a little hesitant to give in to his unspoken promises. To put it bluntly, the only thing worse than not fucking is starting to fuck and being put off. I'm simply not the type of girl who enjoys that.

But the hair pulling and choking that followed the kiss, well, I'm the just the type of girl who enjoys that sort of thing. And multiple orgasms... let's just say that they're high on my list of "to do's."

It's nice to be reminded that we're not roommates, and I've forgotten just how much I need a strong man in the bedroom. It was a wonderful weekend.