A Special Kind Of Love

"The good thing about masturbation
 is that you don't have to dress up for it"
Truman Capote

I posted on FaceBook this morning: I am enjoying an unexpected day off. I worked 27 days in November & in just the last week I worked a 15 hour day & 12 hour day & I worked on one of my normal days off.

A dilemma: Do I treat myself to one of my favorite situations- an entire day off with no agenda or chores, & the house to myself on a cold rainy winter day. I can read, blog, touch myself inappropriately, eat something naughty, have a cocktail & get seriously relaxed after 2 weeks of high stress.

Or actually get out of my jammies, shower & take the train to Downtown to surprise The Husband by offering to work a half day at Boys' Fort.

I am leaning towards the selfish choice. Would you think less of me?

I am giving The Husband & his sidekick- Lil' Jake, the Hip-Hop artist & designer, 2 days working at Boys' Fort, their Man-irific pop-up shop in beautiful downtown Portland, the days right before Christmas & I am hosting bubbly & bits after hours party on Sunday. Why should I feel any guilt?

I received some lovely & thoughtful advice on FB, but I opted to have a date with myself. It had been a very long time.

I was better than I had remembered, just the right combonation of selfish & skilled with a touch of thoughtful & tender.

A log thrown on the fire,

Two profiles met as one,

The igniting of desire in the air,

but when there's just one profile,

& yet desire grows,

Despite the fact there's no one else to care.

Must romance be abandoned

As it's fanning its own flame,

Waiting to burst full-blown?

There’s a special kind of bliss,

Not engendered with a kiss.

Surreptitiously indulged in
 less well known.

For when one cannot make love with another,

One can still make love alone.

There's a certain special magic to the touch of your own hand.

& a special thrill knowing that you will for sure soon be feeling grand.

& the tender swell of rapture,

You don't have to try to postpone,

That's what it's like when you’re Making Love Alone...

Oh the sweet, sweet sound of your own breathing,

As the sky turns pale pink to hot,

& the special thrill knowing
 that you will not catch

 God only knows what.

It's the kind of love
 that fits hand in glove,

& burst like a bud full blown.

That’s what it's like when you're Making Love Alone.

Who can describe the special sweetness

Of knowing the speed that you’re going is right,

& is there anything as thrilling

as trying to keep the book open to page 24 all night?

How reassuring to know when it's finally time to go

That you'll still be there when you leave,

& as dawn is for breaking you hear yourself making

a date for New Year’s Eve.

It’s the kind of love
 that fits hand in glove,

Especially when the glove is your own!

Its a date where you
 can't see their faces,

The one who knows all the best places

Who’ll never ask your sign on the phone

The simple magic of making love,

Not taking, faking, mistaking love,

The simple magic of
 Making Love Alone,

Save on cologne!

That’s what it’s like when you're
 Making Love Alone!

Hardwick & Wilson

1978