Sunday, 24 July 2011

No More Barriers

It was saturday night, and it was dark and quiet. I lay there in his arms dreaming and being all happy, when i woke up. Suddenly. cold. sweaty.

I have a fear, a stark and paralysing fear of, using the bathoom in
a) public places
b) new / potential boyfriends houses.

and now, its 2.30am, and i have 3 choices, each as bad as the other.

The first is to lie in wait, and hope the cramping discomfort bubbling in my stomach will settle down and all will become quiet and peaceful in my world again.

The second is just go to the bathroom: ok, you would think except all that seperates his sleeping lovliness and my bubbly guts will be a thin sliding door and the silence of 2.30am.

The third is simply to do a runner. Yes, actually put my clothes on like a wierdo at 2.30am and walk out.. to hopefully find solace in a swift taxi journey and the inevitable "dancing on the doorstep" while digging in my handbag to find my key.

There are obvious pros and cons to all these options:

OptionProCon
1no noiseno relief
no smellpain
tortuous wait
he wont wake up and think i'm nasty!
2Instant reliefnoise
can get back in bed after and be comfortablesmell
he'll wake up and think im nasty!
3my own bathroomhe'll think im odd leaving in the middle of the night
he'll think im odd not using the bathroom
he'll find my phobia bizarre
there will be no taxis
cannot go back to his after my escape
dancing on the doorstep




Option 3 is out, so I'm not leaving, although its tempting- hum, I think a bit more, and drum my fingers on the bed....  weighing up the options again carefully.. And,  yes, option 3 is still definitely out.
Option 2 is a big NO. no way, too soon for that and way too soon for those barriers to be broken down...

So- Option 1 it is.
I roll over, snuggle in and hope for the best..... yawn.

4.10am. Shit, literally. Im awake again and now in alot of crampy pain and i now regret not taking a cab out of there 2 hours ago and making it home... now that is out of the question as there will be no taxi's and ill just simply explode, so without further hesitation Option 2 it is- and now under Emergency Circumstances.
I look over to him, he's sleeping, thankfully, so I make a dash for it, and pray that he is indeed a stubbornly heavy sleeper!

I hate the French at this moment for inventing the "en suite" bathroom as I let my guts go, the French are to glamorous and sophisticated to have bathroom issues, all frois gras and champagne: Not exactly the recipe for The Shits/ Shitting through the eye of a needle/ Bubbly Guts/ angry ass/ angry bum/ Shits/ Squirts/  Hershy Squirts/ Mud Butt/ Green apple Splatters/ assplosion/  angry booty/  bubbly bum/ Craps (the)/ Runs/  the Trots/ montezuma's revenge/ dysentry.......................

I lost not only my arse, I lost a little piece of my soul down that toilet bowl.
I got back into bed, back onto my side cold and a little un-nerved, but massively relieved.......
His warm body snuggled into mine, his heavy sleepy arm found its way round my waist.
and a kiss - a tiny little kiss at the base of my neck.








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