I miss mine.

Spending time with his is awkward, since they’re so different from what I’m used to. Closed, isolating and I feel like the unwelcome newcomer. He tells me he doesn’t feel like he belongs, and they’re his family, so I guess I can’t expect any better. There are no parents to impress, as they’re both gone, but siblings and nieces seem just as intimidating.

I realize he may feel the same way when he meets mine, but I hope not. I would like to think they’re warm and kind and welcoming. Though, given the circumstances, I suppose anything is possible.


I have such a passion for life now.

For this man.

He has let me and helped me bloom here. I have blossomed with his friendship, and more so, with his love.

I have a renewed interest in many things, a new desire to know others. I am facing fears, standing up for myself, making sure my voice is heard. I have the urge to try new things, go new places, step out of my comfort zone.

When I kiss him, there is a distance between us and everything else. For a moment, whether brief or long, it is him and I and I relax into that, I enjoy it.

I see his eyes warm when we talk, the lines crinkle and he looks at me like I am the single most desirable woman in the world. Often, his eyes convey everything I need to know, with a look that tells me he loves me, absolutely. I feel as if I have waited my entire life for that look.

What I feel for him is intense, but it doesn’t consume me. In the past, when I felt strongly, it weakened me. This relationship gives me strength. It’s like our passion for one another feeds and nourishes us. We are both growing and becoming better versions of ourselves.

Then there’s the passion we share in bed, which is intense and satisfying. We cycle through phases and surprise one another and ourselves as we stretch into a comfortable spot. Never content to let the other one do all the work, we gain endless amounts of pleasure from pleasuring each other. We try things, experiment and push limits. We make love and furiously fuck the other one.

This passion he has given me seeps into everything. I am becoming a passionate person again and I love that. And I love him.


I start this new job Monday. I’ll be working 6 days a week.

75% of my stuff, perhaps more, is still in a storage unit. Some of it, back in Nashville, was reclaimed by my ex, to save me having to worry about it or pay for the unit. The majority of it is stored in Nebraska, over 800 miles from me. I wanted to get it before I started work, because getting a few days off to go get it won’t be happening anytime soon.

I wish I had thought this out better, but the money I have had has been paying living expenses, and using it to go get my things seemed foolish.

I guess I’m just not sure of how I could logistically get the rest of my belongings.  As usual, I should have planned better.

what makes me happy

I was reading Seeking Answers post a short while ago and thought this was a useful exercise. I thought it would be a good idea to do in my present relationship.

Name the top five things that I need to be happy in my relationship. Don’t think about it; just name five things off the top of your head.

1. acceptance

2. love

3. trust

4. affection

5. attention

I think they change, I think I need some things more than others now, and perhaps less at another time. I think my answers today might be different than my answers a few weeks ago or several days from now. I think love seemed to be the “be all and end all” when I was younger, now I want to be accepted as me first, because that’s been hard for most of the people I’ve loved. I know now that it’s ok to need attention and affection from my partner, even if that makes me “needier” than other people. I think sex in my head is tied into affection, but perhaps it should be separate. Security is a given if I feel I have those things above, so I don’t feel I need to specifically lay it out. It’s interesting because the more I think about it, the more I wonder how it could change.

Playing with guns

Now back to our regularly scheduled nonsense. No more talking about me. Oh, wait, this is a blog. Nevermind.

So, I know you want to hear about my first gun experience, right?

Sunday, I was taken to the range and properly shown what to do. I’ve had the safety lesson, I’ve been shown how to properly handle and hold, so I’ve held and loaded the gun previously, but this was the first chance to shoot. Until I got here, I had never even held a gun.

What an adrenaline rush.

We started out on his 22, to give me a way to ease into it. After a while, and a bunch of rounds, I moved up to two different 45’s.

I worried about the kick back, but even after firing plenty of rounds, I felt fine. I was shooting in pretty tight groups and even hit right on target a few times. I kept the paper targets to send to my mother. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.

Status update

It’s been raining here in Utah on and off for days. Drizzles lead to lightning, soaking sheets coming down out of a sky that seems to open up out of nowhere. I find myself thinking of last July, being rain soaked in Washington, D.C. and miserable; though that had nothing to do with the weather.

My life has changed a lot in the last year. I have continued to change and thankfully, grow since then.

I have made mistakes. I have pissed off a lot of people, broken some hearts, disappointed others. I have surprised almost everyone, including myself. I have pushed myself. To step beyond my anxieties, to fight through the fears, to win over the detractors. I’m living. I was alive, I have survived a lot, but for the first time my life feels like my own. My days feel good, and end well.

I wake up often beside a man who cares for me a great deal, who loves me dearly, and I lay within his arms when I can. I make the most of my time, I try to enjoy things, I find myself pausing to be thankful that I’ve made it here.

When I was assaulted, I wanted to never have another man close to me. When I lost pregnancy after pregnancy, I chose to shut much of the world out. When I saw my marriage start to falter, I figured I’d be unhappy the rest of my life. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I just wanted to live that life. When I left my husband, I thought, I will try to be happy. Then, I decided to take a look at myself and decided I was worth more, I deserved more.

I’m not perfect, I will continue to fuck up. Still, I’m cognizant of that, and that awareness helps keep me from doing so more often.

I will laugh when I do something stupid, and blush when I’m caught thinking dirty. I still have a mouth that both truckers and sailors claim is worse than theirs. I am not a size 8 and my hair still reminds me of mop top. I will cringe when I spend money and beam when I cook a good meal. I will wear uncomfortable shoes if they look pretty, and buy more lingerie than I need. I will touch him too much and flirt with strangers too often.

But, this, this is me. I am Kate, I am weird, and I am a chatterbox. I am ticklish and sensitive, and I hate to cry. I love to tease people and I wear my sunglasses when it’s gloomy. I am a slowpoke on the road and the loud one singing at the red light. I am someone who spends too much time online, who loves to grocery shop. I am a dork, a nerd and I never know when to shut up.

And some people like it. Love it, even. I am grateful, I am happy. I am Kate.

Sometimes life throws curves

We can’t always have good days in a row.

People around us will hurt, phones will buzz, rain will fall.

One of us will jump to the worst conclusion, or mistake intentions

Or say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

But I believe, and hope, that each of these curves is only practice for my swing

And yours.

I’m getting better, I’m trying

And you are, and that’s all I ask.