doesn't she want more?

as extroverted as i may seem, i have a fierce sense of privacy. every side of my family had lots of secrets, so sealed lips were the family shield.

my father's mother was the queen of silence. when her parents died and left she and her sister the house upstate, neither could agree on an amicable division. rather than figure out how to share the sprawling manse, they stopped speaking and had a wall built right up the middle. each pretended the other was never there -- like there was no *other* side of the house. cool for us kids, the attic wasn't divided and was full of creepy trunks, papers, mannequins and ghosts. they never spoke again for the rest of their lives.

an uncle who smoked lucky strikes from age 14 and basically hacked himself to death, died of *a cold*. my aunt who died of a brain tumor had a *very bad headache*. fascinating as victoriana, except claire was born here well after the queen's death and *had* to marry my grandfather.

previous posts have addressed the adultery and the duplicity in my family. frankly, i no longer care if it's shame or pride that drives my discretion. i can't change the past and it's just nobody's damn business, ya know? the cruel flip of this is the owner's dedication to eviscerating any sense of privacy i might have.

it's a wiggly line, because our lives, love, passion and dynamic are so intertwined. he approaches other women openly, with the fact of, " i have this woman who is devoted to me..." i don't know when, how, what he actually says otherwise, but i do know it's followed up with, "but i have her and still will and want to fuck other women." from my exposure to women, i imagine most run screaming from whatever virtual room they hear this. a few may may feel wooly and wild, but the recent control freak who manifested her insecurity and disrespect with her profound tardiness said what i suppose most think: "doesn't she want more?"

which brings the owner back around to what would i have done all those years ago, if presented with this same equation. we'll start with, "i can't say," and that it's a pretty useless exercise. i do know i was profoundly attracted to his open sexuality, his quiet dominance and his determination. the best i can guess, is that i would have erected the usual emotional force-field that had served me so well in the past, preventing the eventual emotional hypnosis and dependence. however, there were chinks in both of our armors. plan aborted. both ends.

"doesn't she want more?" more is more. it's more flesh, more sex, more partners, more engagement, more pain, more denial. it's more, in the real sense, not less.

"doesn't she want more?" likely i'll have *more* than most will ever know.