confidence

confidence.  it's so sexy.  i long to have that sexy kind of confidence-- the kind that knows it's wanted, knows it's got what it takes to be desired.  me?  i've got-- a humble sense of competence at best.  how many times have i been called "cocky", and turned to see who's being discussed?

i'm not cocky.  i'm earnest, and willing to listen and learn your body.  i am capable of turning off my critical mind and just listen-- with my hands, with my mouth.  to close my eyes and see the inside of you; then do my very best to find the rhythms and force--or gentleness-- that it desires.  this comes not from feeling confident, but from having something to express; from wanting to be heard, and known, and wanting you to know that i see you, too.

not just see you, though.  i yearn to meet you in those unspoken places, long to bring light to our hidden corners so that we're both illuminated in the blazing glow of our Fuck.  our own original, often-imitated-but-never-duplicated Fuck that leaves us crying, laughing, amazed that our bodies remain intact after all the exploding that was going on.

i suppose there is a sort of confidence in here somewhere, at least a belief in my ability to show up and connect.  but i'm not likely to ever be sure that another wants that with me, or will long to learn the secrets of my body that are waiting for the light of a lover's attention.  as sure as i am of what i'm willing to give, i'm still waiting for the moment i'm sure i'm wanted.