Real good man...

I am an enlightened, modern, fiercely independent woman.

But nothing makes me feel sexier than having the man I adore put his hand ever so gently on my ass and give it a little squeeze. Makes me blush and giggle like a schoolgirl.

Am I the only one who feels like this?

I have slapped men and thrown drinks at them for this.

Obviously, it's different when it's someone you're sleeping with.

But right now, I need all the sexy I can get. And the Filmmaker has been providing that, in spades.

Made arrangements to meet him at a film industry party last week. I wasn't sure about the dress code so I decided to dress up a bit. Ever since my surgery, I haven't been feeling my most attractive and the Filmmaker hasn't gotten a lot of the girly part of me lately so I thought, why not? My favorite black skirt with a nice slit on the thigh, subtly low cut top and fishnets and heels. Tres girly.

The effort was definitely appreciated. He could not keep his hands off me all night. Nothing obvious or inappropriate. Just the casual hand-on-the-ass, constant physical connection, arm around me kind of stuff. But it was more than that. I could feel the WANT coming off of him. And it made me giddy. And that made me feel like the most beautiful, sexy woman on earth. He's always very affectionate and lovely but every once in a while, there's a desire that comes through that takes my breath away.

And to feel that desire now, when I'm scarred and battered and broken. And he's heard all of the details of my disease and what it's going to do to me. And to have him still want me like that just overwhelms me.

And not that the sex isn't good - it's kinda awesome, at least for me. Hopefully for him as well. But that want, that desire, sometimes that's almost better than sex. We can all get sex any time we want to but we can't all be desired in that way. I know. I have spent pretty much my whole life being un-desired. And to be this desired now, well, there aren't words.

And to have someone who isn't afraid to show his affection, isn't afraid to make me feel this giddy, silly, sexy way just overwhelms me. And the fact that eight months into this relationship, every time I see him feels first-date special gives me hope that we can keep this precious, delicate thing we've created going, no matter what my treatment throws at me, no matter how ugly and awful and un-beautiful I feel.

Through all of this, I know (and I hope) that there's a real good man waiting and wanting me, no matter what.