I slept in late today and woke up with a very strong libido. I took care of myself three times – watching the videos you sent me while you were on the bin job. I’m still not satisfied. I ache for you.

I don’t want to lose sight of what we need to do, though. I never should have encouraged you to deepen our kiss yesterday. It’s awakened desire I haven’t felt in years.

I messaged you to let you know I don’t think it’s a good idea to kiss like we did for now. Here’s what we said:

Me
I don’t think we should kiss with tongue anymore. I just… I took care of myself three times this mornin and I’m still aching for you. I’ve not felt this “on” in years. And your mouth leads to your hands, which lead to trouble. So maybe we stick with chaste kisses for now and the hugs, snuggling, and gentle touches.

You
I felt like making out would lead to more. I didn’t want to push the boundaries we set or have to heavily consider them and whether or not to give in to more carnal instincts. I’m sorry if rejecting the notion made you feel negatively, but without our lusty history, I knew even a little head would lead to a fire.

Me
I’ll be honest, I was expecting to feel rejected but I could tell from the look in your eyes you were trying very hard NOT to violate my boundaries. You were so respectful and I appreciate that. So those feelings of rejection never came, which surprised me.

But other feelings have come. And they are very strong and relentless. And the thoughts I’m having… they come randomly, like when I’m driving. And I can feel this pulsing ache in my womb that just WANTS.

And I realized on my third go this morning that every fantasy I have starts with me thinking about your tongue caressing my lips and easing them open to you.

I’ve heard women in their 30s/40s have a renewed sex drive but I didn’t realize it was going to feel like this.

I hope you don’t think I don’t want to kiss you. Because I do. I want a lot of things. I decided against sending you what I wrote because it’s just gasoline, to use your metaphor.

I don’t think I’ll ever send you what I wrote. I will eventually communicate my sexual needs but all the things I want to do to you? I’d rather just show you.

But more than the sexual desire that went from 0-9000 on Friday night, I want to keep building our foundation of trust and respect. I recognize we have a lot of work to do and that your apprehension is holding you back. I hope you can learn to see me as a person you can trust and that my desire doesn’t push you away.

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We spent some time video chatting tonight and you showed me the scale drawings you made for the camper. I couldn’t really visualize a lot of what you were explaining but I’m happy for how excited you are to have this project. My favorite thing you’ve come up with so far is the window above the bed so we can look at the stars or watch the rain or maybe, one day, based in the aurora.

For Father’s Day next week, I bought you new levels for the camper that are close to the eagle level you have now. You pointed out that one was missing so I thought you’d enjoy a new pair and maybe you can frame the original and use it as decor in the camper.

I showed you the collection jars I made for my research. And told you a little more about it. I hope you’ll be able to come out with me one of the nights and help me catch moths and other nocturnal pollinators. I’m going to have to free up space in the freezer so I can store the jars once I have specimens… at least until I can pin them.

I order something else when I got your Father’s Day gift – a book on secure attachment. Well, a guided journal. I know it’s not a solution to everything but I’m hoping it can give me more of the skills and tools I need to be a life-long partner in a healthy, loving relationship.

I remember when we spoke on Mamaw’s porch and one of your conditions for getting back together was that I would go back to therapy. My knee-jerk thought and feeling was to be offended.I realized that was because my parents felt that way, not because I did. I agreed without a second thought until recently. I started thinking about what you said about my father and how I’d hurt you. I’ve come to realize I’d been so contemptuous of you that I stopped thinking about your perspective being different than mine. That so many of our problems were rooted in my fears and my inability to communicate with you in a way that wouldn’t lead to an argument.

I wanted you to feel shame when you had no room to feel anything else – your cup was already full. The more I open up to you, the more I share how I feel, the easier it gets and the closer I feel to you. I want to keep feeling this way, to keep growing. You already make me want to be a better person and not just for you, but for myself.

I’ve been on auto-pilot, letting my amygdala run the fundamental instead of my consciousness. And I don’t want to live that way anymore.

I found your vows today. They were ripped years ago, but I kept them. Tucked away in a 16-year-old journal. I want the man I married back. I know he’s still a part of you and that he’s grown and changed. But I’ve had months to get to know the new you – the current you. And I love you as you are.

So I should give you at least the same amount of time to get to know me again. And I’ll get to know the new you even more. And maybe in five or six months, you’ll be ready to tell me you love me, too. Maybe then we’ll be ready for sex. I just have to have patience and keep working through my issues until you get to where I am.

I want us to love all of each other. I know I’m worthy of being loved and I want you to feel the same way.

I think… if I just give myself over, fully open my heart and shut out the traumatized doom almond… if I can do that, I think we Stan a chance. I’m choosing to trust you and to love all of you and to see things as they are, not as a perceive them to be. And based on what you’ve told me, despite how much it scare me, I love that you care so much for others. It was one of the things I’d complained about at the end of our marriage. The man who helped the woman in the wheelchair at The Laughing Cow on Sanibel. The rain pouring down while we waited on the porch. And there you were, a Southern gentleman. And that man is back.

I just realized how much being kind means to you. You even told me about how your grandfather’s funeral was packed because he was so kind and generous. He gave meat to his neighbors who struggled each winter. You said you could tell a lot about a person based on how many people came to their funeral. And I just now put it all together. Your grandfather’s body may have died, but his spirit of generosity is still here, living in you. And you express this by being the kind of man that would make him proud. And that’s such a beautiful part of you – one I love.

And I never would have come to this realization if I hadn’t cared my fear, asked for reassurance, and trusted you.

I’m at a loss for words…