The Hearts of Men

We accept men’s hearts in the dark. It is our secret pact with them. After long days of being warriors, heroes, and assholes – the lights go out and they snake themselves around us. We make a silent pact not to tell.

We may talk about their prowess in bed. We might reveal their cock size. We might bitch about them to our girlfriends.

But this, is sacred. And we all know it.

It doesn’t matter if they like to tie us up and spank us and rough us up during sex. If they are alpha men by day, running the free world. Or if they work long hours, stink when they come home, and don’t want to hear about our day over dinner.

We forgive them, we hold them, we help them remember who they are when the world might make them forget.

It is a power we don’t discuss – which really isn’t fair. Not to us or them. It is one of the soft arts of a woman. Are we ashamed of it ourselves? I don’t know.

I do know that when it happens, I feel the gift of it. I feel the rawness of his heart. I feel the way my body is built for this. I feel him melt under my touch, let himself go. I feel his trust – that I won’t hold this against him tomorrow. That I will see him as strong and invincible by the time he walks out the door. And he will see me the same way.

It isn’t “cuddling” that women want. It is this.

And I’ll know we’re truly free – both of us, men and women – when we can stop pretending anything different during the day, than we seem to know instinctually at night.

 

© Monica Day

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