Mariposa
Bluelight Crew
Dear you:
Wow. You always satisfy me in our, um, sexy time, but wow. The way you felt in my arms and inside me today, how hard you were yet your skin was so soft, and how slowly and lovingly you loved me... I would be convinced that you physically touched my heart were it not for the fact that I know anatomy.
I can't believe that a man as gorgeous, brilliant, sweet, and as generous and giving a lover as you loves simple little me. Something felt different today, brighter, better (if that were possible), and because of the beauty of what we share together, I know. I have been honest with you about my darkest situations with men and the dark parts in myself. You aren't running away, you really do love me and I'm incredulous, but so happy.
You make my life a place I want to inhabit again. I know I am not always easy to love, but you are my best friend, lover, confidant, partner in crime (hypothetically, of course) and through you, I have discovered the value of questioning the beliefs and investigating the beliefs with which I was indoctrinated through family, then education (which you are inspiring me to pursue further) and then my brutal career path.
I gave you a cheesy plaque when you graduated with your master's this summer that said "because you believed in me, I believed in me". I've tested your patience, yet not once have I felt unloved by you.
Thank you for the beauty you have brought into my life these past 18 months, for not believing in the naysayers, and for being a man whose side I am proud to be beside. Every time I get doubts late at night when I'm in one of my moods, I look beside me and see you, my partner and the man I love and believe in and idolize and sexualize and although I never thought in my wildest nightmares I'd want to marry a man who was smarter than me (much less a professor/pedaogue with a boner for Marx that protests on MAY DAY instead of going to work, doesn't want to own a car, and took a vow of poverty
) ...
we'll make that corner office of ours a damned fine home, won't we? And whatever we may spawn someday... they'll do the world real proud.
Stick with me. I promise to lose my gag reflex in addition to my attitude at times. The two have got to be related, but why analyze THAT? Unless you want to fulfill my fantasy of human sexology lab exhibitionist love... Paging Dr. Kinsey, let's break the machine or something.
You are my other half, Professor Commie Boy. See you in bed in an hour or so?
I'll bring the hedonism if you bring your sexy brain and body. Screw the movie, I prefer you.
Wow. You always satisfy me in our, um, sexy time, but wow. The way you felt in my arms and inside me today, how hard you were yet your skin was so soft, and how slowly and lovingly you loved me... I would be convinced that you physically touched my heart were it not for the fact that I know anatomy.
I can't believe that a man as gorgeous, brilliant, sweet, and as generous and giving a lover as you loves simple little me. Something felt different today, brighter, better (if that were possible), and because of the beauty of what we share together, I know. I have been honest with you about my darkest situations with men and the dark parts in myself. You aren't running away, you really do love me and I'm incredulous, but so happy.
You make my life a place I want to inhabit again. I know I am not always easy to love, but you are my best friend, lover, confidant, partner in crime (hypothetically, of course) and through you, I have discovered the value of questioning the beliefs and investigating the beliefs with which I was indoctrinated through family, then education (which you are inspiring me to pursue further) and then my brutal career path.
I gave you a cheesy plaque when you graduated with your master's this summer that said "because you believed in me, I believed in me". I've tested your patience, yet not once have I felt unloved by you.
Thank you for the beauty you have brought into my life these past 18 months, for not believing in the naysayers, and for being a man whose side I am proud to be beside. Every time I get doubts late at night when I'm in one of my moods, I look beside me and see you, my partner and the man I love and believe in and idolize and sexualize and although I never thought in my wildest nightmares I'd want to marry a man who was smarter than me (much less a professor/pedaogue with a boner for Marx that protests on MAY DAY instead of going to work, doesn't want to own a car, and took a vow of poverty

we'll make that corner office of ours a damned fine home, won't we? And whatever we may spawn someday... they'll do the world real proud.
Stick with me. I promise to lose my gag reflex in addition to my attitude at times. The two have got to be related, but why analyze THAT? Unless you want to fulfill my fantasy of human sexology lab exhibitionist love... Paging Dr. Kinsey, let's break the machine or something.

You are my other half, Professor Commie Boy. See you in bed in an hour or so?
