snuggies

[dragonlady7]

Ruminations on physical contact and communication in a relationship, in the context of a pleasant autumnal evening nap.

warnings: excessive physicality and cuddliness. No sex mentioned. some incoherence and nonlinear trains of thought. probable excessive... what's the male counterpart of uxoriousness? ok, excessive doting on the Boy.

Dave didn't take his usual 12-hour nap this weekend (he likes to have at least one unfeasibly long stretch of sleep in a week(end)), so he zonked out on the couch this evening around 7:30.
At 8:30 a telephone survey person with the wrong number phoned up, and Dave woke violently-- I heard him exclaiming in sudden surprise in the next room as I picked up the loudly ringing phone. 8:30 is a strange time to get telephone calls.
He came into my room and sat for a few minutes, groggy as one violently woken must be, while I was fussing with my computer. Then he decided to go to bed.

I haven't had much time to spend alone with him lately-- I was out of town last weekend, we had visitors this weekend, so I asked if I could come be in his bed for a little while. Dave isn't much of a touchy-feely person, so I've found it's best if I directly ask him for cuddles and the like. If he is in a mood where he can handle it, all is well; if he is not, then I can understand, and will get the snuggly stuff I need some other time. It is far better to be direct and verbal, since we are both good with words, than it is for me to go and embrace him and be pushed away. Sometimes he simply does not want to be touched; I have had that feeling before, though rarely, and I understand. I would rather he were honest and did not pretend to enjoy when he does not, but of course it is painful to be physically rejected. It is much less disappointing to ask verbally and be denied, and more pleasant for him if I do not presume.

So I asked, and he pretended to think it over (usually, really, he is not at all averse to being snuggly. Several times this weekend he came up and embraced or caressed me of his own accord, which is quite demonstrative for him, and indicates to me that he has missed me a bit) and said oh all right.

As a result, I got to spend a couple of hours being very close and cozy in his bed. He is very skinny and angular and good to have wrapped around one; I am round and squishier and suitable to be wrapped around.

I like the feeling of falling asleep with someone entwined with me, one way or another, and breath warm on the back of my neck.

At 11 the heat came on and we both woke up and were too warm and dry and dave spent 15 minutes clumping around looking for the humidifier before I came to my senses and told him where I'd stowed it. I nearly got it out today, and then didn't. And it took him much puttering round the house in annoyance to set it up, and so on and so forth. Which quite ruined the mood, and now I am up and can't fall asleep again.

But when I do, I will sleep better in my own bed (we usually sleep apart, preferring our space, and both being light sleepers are almost always awoken by the slightest movement of a bed partner-- though I confess, I often awake to the sound of him rolling over even in the next room, so it's moot) for having first fallen asleep in his. I am only sometimes a physical person, and am more intellectual about it. I am more comfortable alone, but knowing I don't have to be.

Perhaps he is perfect; I really don't know.

My mother at one point expressed disgust with how physical my younger sister is with her boyfriend, who the family Does Not Like. (Long story, but it's one of those things-- first impression bad, ensuing circumstances worse, and now it's self-fulfilling because he avoids us because we hate him so we have no reason to like him, and none of us really can understand what my poor sister sees in him, which must be something but really... Poor thing.)

But then she said that she thought Dave and I were cute together, and when we were demonstrative it was understated and adorable. I suppose it is-- I like to hug him from behind around the waist because my arms go twice around almost, his waist being less than thirty inches, and he likes to come up behind me and scritch the small of my back very briefly, or put his arms around me from behind and lean his chin on my head for a moment. He is very tall, which I am not used to. We seldom touch for long, and he does not hold hands, but I find I rather like being understated about the whole thing.

But snuggles are seldom understated, and are best with a down comforter and the boy's fuzzy arms, his long skinny perpetually-cold hands finally warm, on a cold October night.