My last post reminded me that writing is good for my soul, so here goes a little self-care and personal therapy:
I miss nursing so much. It gives me a feeling in my heart that I can’t really describe with the limitations of the English language.
That sensation of knowing that a woman is offering a part of herself for me to consume. The intimacy of her hands on the back of my head as I draw deeply from her. The sound of her cooing contented pleasure mixed with my growls of primal desire. The feminine nurture balanced by the masculine hunger. The perfection of the unity.
There’s a poetry in nursing. The flow and balance. It’s the embodiment of the yin and yang in perfect harmony. Give – take. Provide – consume. And it creates a harmony that has extreme power in both relaxation and desire. There’s a peace in it, but there’s also a need. There’s a serenity and a burning passion. These seemingly dissonant threads become harmonious with nothing more than a latch and a flow.
I see this weaving of want and provision as almost mystical. There’s magic in the exchange between connected partners. It’s so much more profound than any other relationship I’ve ever had, and I want nothing more than to experience it again. I’m not sure I can survive without