The directionally wayward wank waste has been sent on his way.
For one reason or another, primarily shagging, no OPKs were used this month, so if we get knocked up all you 'just relaxers' can claim a mini moral victory.
Bear in mind if anyone says 'I told you so' I'll break your legs and rape your cats.
Funnily enough the indications now are of a slightly earlier than usual ovulation, so we'll see how that works out now that we're in the two week wait.
Anyway, my point. I honestly don't understand the psychology of this whole thing. Just weeks ago, and not exactly for the first time either, we were deflated again. Now, yet again, I'm quite hopeful.
Every month you need a hook to hang your hope on, sometimes it can be the same one as before, sometimes you need to find another one, something else that gives you the thought or the hope that this could be the one.
What was this it month? Not pills, potions, or propped pillows, it just feels right.
Lying there, semi covered, spent and breathing heavy. Watching the slowing rise and fall of a breast, trailing fingertips along a thigh and hip, with evening having stolen most of the light from the room without you noticing.
This is how it should be, it should all begin from this very moment, a stirring, a bump, a healthy glow, and all the months and years that follow.
Everything just perfect.
Two years into this craziness, but better than ever, don't let anyone try to convince you that it has to be otherwise.
A tired smile, a happy smile, a cheeky smile, and more light stolen from the room.
At this moment, everything perfect.