Venus in Scorpio: My Mechanics of Passion

How do you be the wife and the lover?

I’ve been sick for over a week now and I’m aware of heightened feelings of sadness. The feelings are genuinely there for good reason, just intensified because I’m sick. I’ve been fighting giving into it, but today it seems appropriative, even healthy, to just let them be. To sit and acknowledge that I have them.

Under my post, You Have My Permission to Rape Me in My Sleep, a regular follower/commentor wrote how he was a bit tortured by my post seeing as though he doesn’t have what I have but wishes he did.

First, it was lovely to hear from him as, in general, I value his romantic sensibilities and engaging vulnerability, but specifically, it was nice to hear from people who ‘get it’. There’s so much more to what I was communicating than sexual contact. The act of admiration for a lover while they sleep is deeply loving and romantic, it’s an indication of my passionate side.

The trouble is, I don’t have what he thinks I have. I mean, it’s clearly in me, but it’s not reciprocated very much anymore. I started every permission statement with the word, ‘please’ — pleading, begging. “Please, for the love of God see me, admire me, adore me, desire me because I desire you.”