"you walk through my walls
like a ghost on tv-
you penetrate me

and my little pink heart
is on its little brown raft
floating out to sea

and what can i say
but i'm wired this way
and you're wired to me

and what can i do
but wallow in you

-Grey, Ani Difranco

This song has been pulling at my heart as the days creep forwards when I'll have to go back to the States and away from being the femme on the arm of E, or the playfulness and giggles of my time with T, or the dark/light kinky fun and intimacy I have with TB. I vehemently DON'T WANT TO GO. I am home when I am here. I am loved. I am filled with joy and sexy play and love and purpose when I am here.

TB keeps trying to get me to perk up about it, reminding me that these things take time and I need to be patient, that if I really want to I will be back here, but it needs to be a long term plan. And my logical self knows all that but it doesn't stop the little panic attacks that rise up in my stomach or the pit of ick that sinks to the bottom of my stomach. And all I want is to crawl into people's arms and not come out til it's all over.

On a happier note, E proposed to me Christmas Eve eve! I'm excited, delighted, and flattered- he knows it's going to be a long journey to get me back to the UK but he cares about me enough to walk that path with me, and I care enough about him to want to make sure we do it right. We want to marry here, for sure, so we're going to speak to a solicitor to find out what we need to do to make all this happen. And he knows about my work, and my open relationship, and it's all fine- we're going to write a contract to cover all the bases. So I'm not being crazy impulsive with this, but at the same time... I'm following my heart!

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