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Once upon a time, after I’d told my sisters that I thought Fella’s behaviour amounted to verbal abuse, the youngest said “Wow! From reading your blog, it sounded like your life was just a bowl of cherries. I had no idea.”

I explained that I am not free to display my entire life, including Fella’s so-called imperfections, on a webpage that our friends, family and neighbours read. That is not to say that what I write on that “public” blog is untrue, as it occurred to me that you might think after reading there a recent description of my reaction to certain music and how it makes me feel amorous toward Fella. That description is 100% true; yet I am not including the whole story, as those of you who read here well know.

The whole story would be that I am stirred and am sorely tempted to do something about it, but I choose not to act upon the feeling. The words “he is not safe” are not the best ones I could have used, I suppose, because they imply that I can’t help myself from jumping his bones. They are a figure of speech, of sorts, that were meant to be humorously tongue in cheek, to give the idea — my reaction to the music — without explaining to the world that a snowflake will set up housekeeping in hell before Fella gets a piece of this body again, unless something changes around here. Unless I get exactly what I have asked for, plain and simple. It’s black and white.

Heaven knows he’s trying to be “nice” and is quite good at it when he’s conscious of needing to; however I’m constantly aware that the mantle of “goodness” can drop quickly and when least expected, so I no longer trust him. I could be verbally attacked at any moment, and I’m not willing to lay myself bare, to be vulnerable, any longer.

Good honest sex requires trust and the willingness to be vulnerable. It also makes me more open and vulnerable.

Also, sex is not a factor in relationships between roommates. If I cannot ask for and receive the respect and consideration that a spouse is due, yet I still have sex with Fella, then I am no more than a roommate supplying benefits. And receiving them, of course … but I don’t want them without the intimacy of a committed and respectful relationship. We are committed to each other, I think, but he does not know what a respectful relationship is.

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