Make Me Up

There are lots of things that people are into that just perplex me. Like people who argue politics, eat tuna, and like the Green Bay Packers.

On the flip side, I probably do things that others think are strange. Like singing along with One Direction on the radio and watching "Toddlers & Tiaras."

But the one thing that I find myself pressured toward on a regular basis that just makes my head spin in utter confusion?

Make-up sex.

In all the years I have been sexually active, this concept has just baffled me. If I am mad at you, I don't want to touch you. I don't want you to touch me. If my head is fuming in anger over something you've done or said, I am not fantasizing about ripping your clothes off. Nope... I'm most likely fantasizing about ripping your face off. And not in a good way.

 

Puff likes to point out that he and Slutasian (his ex) used to fight a lot, but it was OK because they would always make up afterwards. Then he started dating me. And instead of wanting to make up right away by jumping in bed, I would slam a few doors, throw around a few choice words, and drive off in a huff. That makes much more logical sense to me. Puff says my actions made it a lot harder to love me again after the fight.

In my defense, I tend to think make-up sex is a cop-out. It definitely doesn't solve anything. So... yeah... that's what I'm sticking with. Trust me, I think our marriage will last much longer once we get everything off our chests and then talk through it. He can fantasize about his crazy make-up sex. And I can fantasize about Jason Statham.

 

All's fair in love and war, right?