A strange idea occurred to me. I was talking to a friend about my woman friend, who’s in a tough place right now, and I found myself tossing out some catchphrases. An hour or so later, now, I am refreshing some of my content from 10 years ago, and boom: I have a red zone playbook.
The Red Zone Playbook
In football, it’s the last 20 yards to the endzone. In dating and relationships, it’s about scoring. Or continuing to score even after the longevity of the partnership has come into question. Sex for sex sake? I’d hate to think so.
I might be admitting to something I’m uncomfortable about. Sex is really good. And, as I wrote ten years ago. “When the sex is really good, my other head simply quits bringing up any issues. I’ll sweep anything under the rug to get laid again by this woman.”
Advice: keep the little head out of the equation.
In my (our) case, this is impossible. Yet, I have choices. Tonight, I can just listen and be present. I do not have to go to her house. She does not have to feel better for me. I’d rather she stay at home frustrated and confused, than come have her discharge the anger and energy at me. I don’t want to be the target.
My little head, however, is running the show.
“Have you seen her?” (Wrong question, again.)
#30#
