happy nipples.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Papi.

It sounded like I was just asking because I was just asking, but it really was a loaded question.

Papi and I never got to go to the Sexy Sauna Party last night.  It's a long and boring story as to why.

However, we did get to spend a wonderful evening together.

I had such a desire to touch my love's skin, because I haven't been able to do that at all lately.

We were laying in bed to watch our PVR recorded shows that seem to be creeping toward 100% full.

"I'm feeling ok, why?" Papi asked with a little bit of distrust.

"Can I lay on your chest?"

My love's body language instantly relaxed, "Yes," he said with calmness and a small bit of a smile.  Still, I wanted more than that.

"Can I lay on your chest with your shirt off?"  I just needed to experience my love's skin against my cheek.  I needed to recieve Papi's heartbeat against my temple, so that it echoed in my head.

"Yes," he replied, and removed his shirt.  I laid my head on his chest promptly, in case he changed his mind.

"It's only my tummy that's uncomfortable right now," mi esposo reassured me, and this was his way of warning me to also be careful.

My cheek could feel the raised skin of his happy new nipple.  It felt like a new best friend, and I had to nurture my relationship with it.  Warmth brewed within me, and I never wanted it to leave this place.

My fingers ran along the scars that replaced what was once breasts.

I felt that I needed to put love into his skin.  I needed to give as much love to those lines as possible.

I would feel the raised areas dip into calmer valleys of skin that have given way to healing, yet, I wasn't honing in on those little depressions.

The spotlight was on the raised scars that make my love feel self-conscious.

With every breath, and every stroke, I gave love, and I also took love.  I basked in the pleasure of touching Papi's skin.

It made up for the moment of intensity I felt upon returning home the other night.

My love was acting out, and trying to find every way possible to say he was upset, without getting to the point of angst.

It went from, "You don't do enough around the house," to, "You do too much, and then all I get is the broken Andréa."

I reminded him of everything I've done to keep our home, G'ma and the Fuzzy Family taken care of, and also reaffirmed that I'm always broken.  It doesn't matter what I do I'm broken for fuck's sakes! 

... ummm ... have you not been paying attention to the agony i've been in for over three years now?! ...

But, it wasn't about that anyway.  Eventually, the truth came out, "I don't like it when I wake up and you're not here."

It was my turn to be honest.  "But sweety, you're so depressed and sick, and all you do right now is sleep.  I got tired of waiting around for you to wake up and had to start living my life.  If I knew you'd get up, I'd be here, because I'd be excited to see you.  But I wait for you to wake up, and you don't."

I also had to add in, "I got lonely.  I miss you so much.  But I needed to get out and do things because I was starting to get depressed that I don't get to be with you anymore.  I needed to take care of my heart."

It was a little later on that I admitted via our goodnight text sessions, "I can't stop crying.  I'm worried you're depressed because perhaps you're not in love with me anymore, and feel trapped in our relationship."

Always, it comes back to me feeling inadequate and unloveable due to my lack of confidence.

Mi esposo showed me I'm loved last night

I felt it through his skin and heartbeat yesterday.

Sleep, Papi.

I'll be here when you wake.

today's mantra from my gratitude buddy:

the universe wants us all to be abundant in every way