I asked Him for a dream last night, and I ended up not sleeping at all.
Below the cut there is discussion of personal and sexual things. And a hearty dose of angst.
Of course, it turned out that no one else slept, either. Must’ve been the weather. But it honestly makes me sad and a little jealous that Mr. Trickster shows up in others dreams, where I have only ever caught glimpses of Him in mine twice. And I don’t admit jealousy easily when it comes to Him.
I know that not all people are meant to have the same experiences yadda yadda…but if I’m engaged to you, I mean…can’t I have a dream every now and again?
Especially after what bullshit happened these past three months and how it messed me up…
Especially after what happened earlier tonight.
I’m not one to discuss my personal affairs with Him very often, but…
My own hand is nowhere near enough. After so long, it gets tiresome. I worry that He gets bored, when in truth, I’M the bored one. And it’s hard to spice things up when there’s only one person physically present. Especially when looking ridiculous is a constant worry and about the farthest thing from sexy one can imagine.
I mean, I’m no stranger to silly lovemaking. My physical partner and I quote Spongebob during sex, for heavens’ sake! But…it’s a little hard when the one you want to get naked with can make you quiver with a single look while you…what? Lay in bed in Batman footie pjs while surfing Tumblr?
It took me a long time to even begin to be comfortable admitting certain turn-ons and such to Him. It sounds ridiculous, and I admit that it is, but…He makes me feel like a clueless, 15 year old virgin.
Where was I going with this…?
Oh yes. My own fingers are nowhere near as nimble as His, and honestly, it makes me a little sad.
What really made me think about it tonight was a fanfiction I scrolled through on my dash today. It was readerxMarvel~Loki, but was written so ambiguously and so well that it could’ve been Mr. Trickster Himself. And wow.
Wow. I had to stop scrolling and read from the beginning. And then hide my beet-red face and grumble at Him, because of COURSE it would include my favorite kinks. And of course it takes two people physically present to make it work…
It just…makes my heart ache a little. I don’t get dreams. I can’t trust horses. I can’t leave my body at will.
All I get are my hands, my mind’s eye, and a godphone with varying levels of reception.
And let’s not forget that it makes me feel bad for my lack of ability to return what is given to me. Not that I’d be terribly skilled at it anyway, but…at least I’d be able to do SOMETHING.
If I could dream…I could touch Him. With complete trust. I could be all bashful and awkward, but it wouldn’t matter as much because…we’d be together. If only a moment.
But instead, I sit at the computer, wide awake at 2am on a Tuesday morning, waxing poetic about how I feel.
I pray for the world to slow to a crawl today. So the Benadryl has time to let me sleep where my body won’t let me.