Married over 20 years ~ Growing up I experienced many indifferences my parents had in their commitment to "hell" as my Mom would put it. My mother was a searcher and my dad the poker. After three children my mother found herself poked yet again... those were her words not mine. After 20 years she desperately wanted her own bed away from the harassing poker wearing nothing but a snicker.
Its apparent it to me that after a certain age, mainly when the mans testosterone takes a plummet, that the woman's seeking of refuge is over. All those restless nights of bodies colliding, meaning the woman is hanging on to dear life to her ever so familiar edge of the bed are gone. The husbands hands being a groupie on back section of his woman, the whole time being pushed back with a NO move over vanishes. There is no notice, no fire or smoke...gone.
Now that I have experienced this decline in being poked, I know why my mother never got her wish. Life gets so busy, a body gets so tired, we are all jelly at some point. One day I woke up with my portion of the bed and thought to myself, this is nice. Days went by, months and then a year. Taking note that women take the role as poker, truly enjoying being poked, in their 35-40's I still found myself clung to the edge of the bed when I woke and later I found myself missing the POKER. I would reach over and search for him. I would get up right behind him until he was at the edge of the bed.
The moral of this story is this; Once a poker not always a poker. Are you searching or poking?
