|Not a bad cosplay actually.|
Unexpectedly today, Tilly actually initiated a kiss on the lips this morning. I was so totally not expecting it that I completely fucked it up and missed. She did it a second time and I made the most of the opportunity and the direction provided. That was it. It left me reflecting on how little I expect and how much that little will change my mood these days. I can't decide if that is sad or pathetic or good. I really can't. But, on a day with friends round, Tilly spent most of the time with them. At this stage I think I'd be more than happy for her to have an affair if not just for her to find someone she didn't mind physical contact with. I don't exactly cut a handsome figure and have never really been attractive. She, on the other hand, remains very attractive.
I do compliment her. These are spontaneous and she often takes my breath away both in terms of physical appearance (sometimes when she's just thrown things on and sometimes when she's really put an effort in but mostly in an everyday sense) and in terms of her thoughtful observations on things. I love the fact that she is more intelligent than I and that we can have deep philosophical discussions about films, TV, Disney, History, Politics and the state of the nation. She can analyse a news item as much as, or more than, I and we can happily riff on one another when it comes to political observations. She can bake better than I, cook better than I with a wider range of recipes - something she has learnt to do since moving in with me. Her writing is better than mine - I haven't read it, but when she sends her writing to people she gets feedback and requests for more. When I send writing to people I get a one line response and I have never been asked for more. Most of my friends treat reading what I write as something of a chore. I must therefore conclude that Tilly is better at writing.
And all of this means that I punched well above my weight when I somehow managed to get married to this woman. It is, perhaps, unsurprising that we don't really enjoy a physical relationship. She is so far out of my league that doing anything with me requires her to step down quite a distance. To convince herself to kiss me, a bearded hobo-looking freak with all my sexual hang-ups and cross-dressing, must be akin to me debating causes of the First World War with a seven year old. Sex is a bit like offering a pity-fuck. She wasn't a virgin when we met and had had sex with at least three males and a couple of females by the time we did it together. She claims not to miss it. But that's the thing, I don't think she does miss sex with me.
Still, the teenager in me reminds me that she kissed me today.