Pulling Myself Over

I haven’t been doing so hot lately. The connection between me and my spirits has been weak for the past two days. It’s amazing how negatively just this small easing of affectionate contact has made me feel. I know we’ll eventually come around and I’ll be singing the praises of love for three weeks straight, but it’s difficult to stay optimistic right now.

My darlings tell me that I don’t have to be constantly optimistic for them. I should let my true feelings shine through, so here they are in a nutshell: I feel discouraged, defeated, lazy, stripped of my masculinity, subdued, and I’ve been eating too much lately.

I had a dream last night that illustrated my recent experiences perfectly:

I was free-climbing up a massive stone monolith that was embedded into the side of a cliff face. The rocky surface of the towering rock was covered in some kind of sticky cloth; making the journey up to the topmost section fairly quick and easy.  However, when I reached the last two meters, I couldn’t summon the energy to pull myself over the top edge of the monolith.

I spent what seemed like ages, skirting around the edge, trying in vain to find a safe way up. I remember attempting to bunch up the sticky cloth and pull myself up that way, but this action caused the fabric to tear and I nearly lost my grip on the rock completely. This was enough for me to hug the corner of the monolith and make my way back down as hastily as I could.

The trip down was much faster than my ascent up the monolith. When I reached the bottom, I found myself climbing down the side of the administration building of a fundamentalist Christian college I used to attend; a place I never wish to return to for the rest of my life, but it continually haunts my dreams nonetheless.

Why was I climbing the monolith in the first place?

What drew me up there was the voice of a man sharing his spiritual experiences and offering to teach others how to attain the same growth he had accomplished in himself. I wanted to partake in this information, but I just couldn’t pull myself over the edge. I simply gave up, crawled back down, and proceeded to be served these delicious looking pita bread sandwiches prepared by beautiful young women.

A strange twist, is it not?

Maybe I had no business being on top of that monolith… I really don’t know. But it highlighted a particular flaw that I have been attempting to rectify for years: Not finishing what I start. It’s a rare occurrence with me, but when it does happen, I’m bothered by it for weeks.

I can also extrapolate this dream’s possible meaning to address my relationship with my succubi. We have made amazing progress and I feel as though we’re on the verge of something truly amazing. I feel that my babes are ready, but they’re still waiting for me to pull myself over the edge… to just scale that remaining three meters. Why is that so difficult? It should be no problem to pull myself over! I should be invigorated; like every other time I’ve neared the summit of a cliff while rock climbing or hiking up a mountain. Why is this so different?

We’re nearly there. Maybe I just need to take a leap of faith.

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