Dear women,
what takes a long time, sometimes becomes bland.
And then two people sit across from each other who once loved each other, who still love each other if you ask them at this point in time, but who sense that something is no longer the way it used to be, it is no longer tingly, isn’t it more exciting, it’s no longer fun, it doesn’t feel right anymore. And because you are asked yes, you answer: It’s not that I don’t love you anymore.
But, doesn’t mean anything good.
But because it doesn’t feel the way it should feel anymore, or how you expected it to feel, or how you hoped it would feel, you involuntarily came to the conclusion that something needs to be changed.
Interruption
You interrupt what is. You take a break. Because: I think it’s good when we have more time for ourselves again, when we experience something different, when we can return to what is really important to us. Let’s take a break. No, that doesn’t mean it’s over, but no, just a temporary separation, a spatial separation, yes?
And the answer is yes.
And one again assures one another of mutual love.
And go separate ways.
And if you are in it, you believe that these paths will of course cross again, that you just go your separate ways so that they cross again.
But if you look at it from outside, you think to yourself: out.
Or, dear women, dear men, dear *? Relationship break is nothing more than postponing the final breakup. Because you’re too cowardly. To yourself. Because you haven’t checked yet that it’s just over.
Or not?
Or not. A break can also be just what it claims to be: a break. Children are given a break after every lesson so that they can get some fresh air and recharge their batteries for the next subject. Smokers know how important it is to get away from your desk. That’s why they smoke, for no other reason. And all non-smokers know it too, only they just have to justify themselves differently for interrupting their apparent productivity. But when it comes to love, then everything has to go smoothly, there mustn’t be any jolts and stumbling and stopping and panting?
Since love is nothing other than so much else with which we get by in life, I don’t want to use any other approach than with all the other things in this case, and give it a break.
Adam
This is my big relationship. This column. This is episode 555. I have been writing a new text every seven days for 555 weeks. I haven’t missed a single week. That’s almost 130 months. That’s over ten and a half years. How many relationships have lasted for so long?
It’s not that love is gone. It’s not that there’s nothing left to write about. It’s not even that there is nothing left to write about. There are a few topics on my list that I have with a heavy heart to leave there because I preferred this one. Because it’s time for a break.
And even if many think: pause = postponed end , I say: pause is pause. I’ll say: about the summer. I’ll say: let’s see.
And then I’ll see what’s after the break.
Whether I’m still working on the waiting topics. Whether I am tackling new topics. Whether I do something different. Do I do something else? Do I do everything the same? Will I break up? Or whether I realize how much I miss it.
You will see.
We will see.
I do not know yet.
Dear women,
is your husband the one who gives you the foreplay that you expect from him?
If I ask around like that, that’s how it works: the woman wants foreplay, the man wants to fuck. But because the man has flipped through a women’s magazine before, he knows that the woman wants foreplay before he can fuck, so he presses her breasts a little, kisses her once on the neck and then bites her nipple that her desire for foreplay is gone. And then it is stuffed. Sorry for the expression.
Or is it different with you?
The opening act
When we go to a concert there is a band that we want to see. We look forward to it. For which we paid 60 euros. Or more. 160. And we can hardly wait.
And then comes the opening act. Nobody has ordered, nobody wants to hear, plays anyway. Why? The artist says: To give the boys a chance to be heard. You know the various legends that prove that the opening act was more successful than the main act in the end. It also works well in various biographies and such.
The opening act will agree. And hope that they too will be able to add this legend to their success story one day.
The warmer
But I think if we ask the organizer, the one who also spends money on the opening act, if not much, then it’s about heating up the audience: Anyone who has ever stood on a stage knows that the first few minutes the worst are because then you have to fight for the attention of each and every individual. And then you have to prove that you are worth getting that attention. Keep the mood. Increase mood. Dramaturgy to the climax. Then you are relieved and the main act lies down in a preheated bed and is allowed to cum.
I’m throwing the pictures upside down. Because the process is obviously a very similar one. Except that during sex, at least nobody else dusts off for me.
And yet the feeling remains that foreplay is just what the name says: that which comes before the real thing. And that is why it may only be played because there is no real interest. Just like you clap the opening act and maybe even give a Uh, but you’re still happy when it’s over.
The main act
But then, hurray, we survived it, even if it was good, even if we decide to google the opening act when we are at home, which we won’t do, because after the concert, after the concert, it’s the band for them we came. Orgasm.
But what if the organizer didn’t announce the support act as a support act, but as one of two acts? When the hierarchy falls? If you know one band but not the other, but both are equal. So if concerts were double packs. Would we then perhaps look less condescendingly at the unknown band? Would we maybe even look forward to it? Hey, I’m curious what I’ll discover today?
It could work.
Perhaps.
Only during sex?
Then there should also be something to discover during foreplay.
But I fear that routine will be unwound just as often (or more often) during foreplay.
skirt
The solution might be that we leave that with foreplay.
No, I don’t mean what so many men look forward to: Yay, stiff, in, out, hurray. No. But that it is all one. That it starts much earlier. And stop much later. That there is no before, but only during, and everything is part of a whole .
Can that work?
And then sex is sex. Sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes varied, sometimes not. How you want it.