Wants and Needs

The secret to contentment is to understand the difference between Wants and Needs, apparently. A number of books have been written on the subject, not least Affluenza, by Oliver James which warns of the difference from a material perspective. But how does this play with emotions - which do we need, and which do we merely want? Is the question even valid? Personal fulfillment suggests that we each have a "right" to all the positive emotions, and shelves of self-help books suggest that we can insulate ourselves from the bad with the right "positive mental attitude".

But where are the boundaries? Is it right to pursue your emotional wants, to elevate them to needs, regardless of the pain it causes others, or ultimately yourself? Or are they the same thing? My heart was wrenched reading this blog-post. I'm sure there are those that would condemn S for willingly involving herself with a married man - regardless of the heartache she could inflict on the wife and on herself. But how can the hardest heart not weep for her? To fall in love with someone unavailable is one thing, but to want to be with the man you love, comfort and nuture him, bear his children to fulfill your biological destiny is much closer to a need - sex and procreation are as much a basic human motivation as hunger & thirst. To have found the love of your life, only to be told he would rather live a half-life with a woman who does not satisfy him is surely the ultimate slap in the face. Worse - surely it is taking the very core of you and shredding it, trampling the pieces into the mud?

I suppose I am feeling wistful after reading this article. Am I alone in reading this article on an American married couple that decided to have sex every day for 101 days and be astonished that the response from her friends was so negative? I crave some sex, some affection, some tenderness, touch, trust, intimacy, to "sink in, trusting, to their pillowy ephemeral depths and to whisper, in the dark, to the comfort of flesh" as Z so beautifully puts it. Such a fundamental need, such a seemingly unachievable ambition, a want - the pursuit of which eliminates any chance of contentment. 

Love and Marriage

A book has been written and reviewed by many of the UK dailies that postulates that sex and marriage are incompatible. It is possibly one of the saddest things I have ever read - a whining litany of complaints against the 23 men she has slept with (tart!) by a 45 year old publishing executive, married to Hal, some poor sap from the city.

Now it may be that he is too exhausted by being a master of the universe to fancy a bit of conjugals when he gets home, and to be fair, that's not a flattering photo of her (if it is, then God knows how she shagged 23 blokes), but to have effectively unilaterally decided that she will remain celibate within her marriage until the children are grown up is selfish in the extreme, not to mention breathtakingly hubristic. She also laughably maintains that she will then embark on a "sexual odyssey" to find a man who will reliably "give" her an orgasm. Well that had me rolling on the floor. Sister, if you've got to the age of 45, having tried 23 blokes and still reckon an orgasm is something that comes giftwrapped like an expensive bauble from Tiffanys, then a lifetime of disappointment awaits! I may only be a sexual lightweight with 5 knobs under my belt, but hey, I enjoyed screwing every one.

But this issue of women effectively thinking that because they no longer fancy their man, that's ok & he has to put up with it and carry on paying the bills and not seek satisfaction elsewhere otherwise they will divorce him, bankrupt him and sever his children from his life is as common as it is monstrous. Women in middle age no longer being bothered to swing from the ikea light fittings is not a modern phenomenon. However, in the past, it was tacitly accepted that the husband may make other arrangements on the side and as long as he was discreet and came home for his tea, little was said.

Now, am I wrong in thinking that modern men have become so emasculated that they no longer have any say in the ending of their sex lives? I don't actually subscribe to the cliche that men just want sex - there are plenty enough around that want physical affection. That certainly includes sex, but doesn't exclude a cuddle afterwards, a touch, a kiss, a caress, an acceptance of their physical existence. Does a man who's wife will no longer touch or acknowledge him physically feel loved, or believe that his wife still loves him? Does a man expect love to be expressed through sex in marriage? But conversely, assuming he comes to a discreet arrangement on the side, does he expect his mistress to have sex with him without love? Perhaps he's quite happy for the mistress to love him as long as it places no restraints or expectations upon him? I must admit a personal interest in the answer to the last point. Comments welcome - from men or women.

Ooops I did it again

The potential is now actual. It was quite nice not to have to make all the running, and he was keen. Oh he was keen. It was very strange, a different shape, smell, less hair, more hair, pleasures and interests, but surprisingly relaxed and bizarrely, after he left, emphasising that I should knock on his door if I couldn't sleep, I really missed him. Which is not like me at all - I like to sleep in my own space, but the urge to cross the corridor was nearly overwhelming.

And I was so turned on that night - I nearly humped his leg like an excitable Yorkshire Terrier. He stroked my neck and I came...for the 8th/9th time, and not the last time that night either.

"Don't be embarrassed in the morning, will you?" he asked anxiously. And I wasn't. We sat side-by-side in the boardroom for 5 hours with ne'er a twitch, but back at base today, we chatted quietly, gently, legs entwined under the table. He wants another round - I have an "issue" that will wait for another post, and I can't say that I don't want to, because I do.

So where does this leave me? I'd always assumed that if I had another affair, it would be with a total bastard, just for the sex. I hadn't counted on someone I genuinely liked and respected making an irresistible pass at me. I hadn't allowed for someone who is worried that I might think he was ignoring me at work, when obviously discretion is paramount. I hadn't expected to feel so comfortable around him, happy to share a moment of tenderness. There's nothing hard-faced about this at all, and I had been steeling myself to don that persona, because, well, that's what you do, isn't it? I'd mentally prepared for a player, and instead I've got a naive sweetie - and surely those are the most trouble? But he was exaggerating when he said this was the first time he'd done this in 30 years? I reckon so. So the song for the day is: "There may be trouble ahead...."