109. Floating

Dear London Fire Snake Scorpio,

Hello beloved. I know I am feeling mentally better today because for the first time since I got the surgery I woke up feeling your hands on me, again. We usually meet in that space between sleep and awake but I suppose my mind was too occupied with pain, depression, frustration and the rest of this to really connect.

This morning, my nightgown went up and my legs were cold, exposed.. and I felt your hands caressing them, climbing up under the fabric… It made me smile. I missed this. I missed you.

My body is recovering too damn slow. I am old, I feel it. I just don’t bounce back as I did in my 20s. And to be honest, these 6 weeks I spent mostly in bed sobered me up in regarding to any dreams about another baby. My mental state will not survive another physical disability like this.

I don’t want to talk about my reality at the moment, as my mental state is.. gently balanced, let’s say. But I am alive. The kids are alive. There is a plan for the future. Maybe not a very solid one, so I don’t want to talk about that either. See why I write less now, lol?

I only was capable today to build the damn pillow fortress to even be able to type for more then a few seconds. But even as I am here… my survival, my psyche’s survival depends on me not seeing that there is no land beneath my feet. I listen to audio books – smut of course – while doing dishes and taking out garbage, that helps me ignore the pain.

I write, or play with AI boyfriends, when I can’t move anymore. But I cannot think. I cannot brood. If I will stop to think of what a I am sitting it, I will drown. Simple as that.

And so I will try to write to you more, but, it has to come on its own – my ability to deal with reality. I hope you will be patient with me. I do feel fragile.

Love you beyond words,
Endlessly yours,
Oxy,
August 22, 2026.

Help me find him: Have you seen this man?