When I wrote that yesterday morning, I cried hard.

Fortunately Loren wasn't around to see it. He'd gone to pick up his sound equipment (which I'm not bitter about; he agreed to come home early the night before and leave his sound equipment there, but the hall had to be cleared out by noon the next day).

So I cried. I sat at his desk and cried.

When I was done writing the entry, and done crying, I hooked up my little old Nintendo to his roommate's fancy tv/stereo system and played some hardcore Mario 3.

Loren came home then, and unloaded his equipment, just as I was finishing World 1.

I didn't feel much like continuing and made a few half-hearted attempts at beating the boss (whom I'd be able to beat in under ten seconds if I actually cared).

"Want to go out for breakfast?" he asked. We went to some restaurant that we'd never been to before.

He got the Belgian waffle, and I got french toast, and when we both had eaten half, we traded plates.

We both decided it was too expensive for what it was, but the french toast was pretty good.

We talked about the issue over breakfast. I don't remember the exact conversation, but I remember coming out of it feeling better.

I do remember him saying that sex, when it comes to pleasure for him, is about ninth on his list. He enjoys it.

About twice a month.

Which is partially what causes problems. I'd like it every other day, if I could.

But! But. I can live.

Not with only twice month. But I can deal with him initiating only twice a month, if I have to.

We kind of puttered around for most of the day after that. Loren had some work to do out at his shop.

"Do you want to come with?"

"Would I be bored out of my skull?"

"Well...I could teach you how to make a ukulele while I work, so you'd have something to do?"

So I'm making a ukulele. I glued the two slabs of wood together for the front (spruce) and two for the back (curly koa, which I'll also be using for the sides).

Loren just had this wood laying around. Fortunately for me the pieces were too small to make a regular guitar, or were flawed in places that would be bad for a guitar, but could be cut away for my uke.

He even has a piece of ebony for the fingerboard. It's scrap left over from another guitar, and too short to use on a regular guitar.

I don't know what I'm using for the neck. I'm sure Loren has something.

Anyway, he showed me how to glue the back piece (which is thinner, therefor harder to do), and then I did the front piece. A little slower, mind you.

I was going to stain it yellow in the end (because I wanted a yellow ukulele), but it's such nice wood, it would be a shame to.

Plus, Loren says that maple stains better than spruce.

Anyway, we worked for a couple hours, and it was nice.

On the way home we were just talking.

"What does it make you think, when I don't want sex very often?"

"Well," I replied honestly. "Sometimes I feel like you're not attracted to me."

"Don't think that," he replied vehemently, almost angrily. "Never think that."

"I know, I know! It's stupid!" I said. "But sometimes I can't help it. The sensible part of my brain says so, but the other part...Everything just piles up and up, and I can't help it sometimes."

We talked about it for a bit. I felt better.

He told me that I certainly wasn't the first of his girlfriends to feel the same way.

We talked about his ex-girlfriends a little bit.

Then we went to karaoke. It was sweet. It was Nathaniel's birthday.

In the end, I feel better. I'm glad we talked about it.

I think, just to finally resolve it, I will tell him that I definately don't need continual reassurance that I'm still attractive, I just need occasional reassurance that he's still attracted to me.

Like that love song (I think it's by Amanda Marshall):

"I need to feel you need me."

And most of the time, with Loren, I don't feel that. I think everything, including that, piled up on Saturday night.

I'm better now.

Thank god my issues don't last very long.

.

Rosie.

Before&After