Eight years. James and I have been married for eight
glorious years and I am so happy that I remembered. It is just so refreshing to
be on even ground with my husband on a momentous occasion like a holiday or
anniversary. Last night was the first normal holiday we’ve had in recent memory
and I just loved it. He booked the night off work and I made sure Jason was out
for as long as possible so we had our privacy.
We ordered in Chinese, and watched some procedural rerun
while we laughed at the inaccuracies – one of these days I’ll have to do a
tutorial on proper crime scene processing. It is nothing like what you see on TV. I understand why writers and
networks like to sensationalize the most mundane of tasks but I think it takes
away for the people who actually know what’s going on. It certainly weeds out
the people who watch a few episodes of Dexter and think they can do what I do.
Fucking Dexter. No! I won’t talk about it again – you all
remember my rant.
Anyways, dinner with my husband was lovely, we had a nice
relaxing evening. We cuddled on the couch like we were teenagers, pretending
like we were trying really hard to hide our crush. I’ve always really enjoyed
the quiet moments with James. I’ve discovered over the years that he and I have
a very strong effect on each other – as if that weren’t already obvious. When
we fight, we fight; when we love, we love. In a strange way I think we can
calm each other. He can be impulsive, sometimes more than me, and his temper is
a sight to behold. It’s not crazy or violent, it’s just loud. And opinionated.
When he decides something, there is no changing his mind. In a similar way he
keeps me in check. I don’t always think with my head and he has this ability to
think of the big picture and keep calm in emotional situations – even if his
opinion is the only thing you hear. When we find a moment where we are both
calm and quiet, it is a thing of beauty; at least to me.
I was enjoying a nice relaxing evening at home when my
husband suddenly leaned over and whispered that he had a surprise for me. He
tied a scarf around my eyes and we got into the kitchen before he got tired of
leading me and let me squint the rest of the way. I do not like to be
blindfolded, even by the person I trust most in the world. It’s this thing I
have with control. If you’re going to surprise me, at least let me use all my
senses. He led me into the garage where I was treated to a gorgeous anniversary
present. Actually it was a two-part gift.
It started with him presenting a beautiful bronze-handled
letter opener that he wanted me to keep in my purse – I just thought that was
so sweet. And then, tied to a chair in the middle of the room, was a woman I
had wanted to kill, it must have been, three years ago. She came to the door
wanting to sell me something or spread the good word or some shit and I was
having none of it. I wasn’t in the mood and she was pissing me off so I tried
to lure her inside but she got away. I remember being so pissed off that I
ranted for an hour over the phone while James was working late. I just needed
someone to talk to; I didn’t think he’d been listening.
But he tracked her down and invited me to release any
tension I needed to. He wanted me to do it slowly so he could watch. I’m getting
shivers just remembering it – although it may also be a chill, I haven’t slept
today. It was a long night.
I started with her fingernails, softening and pulling them
one by one. It doesn’t create much mess but it involves quite a bit of pain. I
also love pulling fingernails because it creates a very specific motive for the
police to follow. It looks like I was torturing her for revenge or information
when really I was doing it for the pleasure it brings me in life. Once she was
down to her one pinkie nail, I went on to bigger areas. I grabbed a hammer from
the tool shelf – the most popular hammer at Home Depot, difficult to trace
because of its sales records – and I started swinging. It took me an hour to
smash both her ankles and wrists as well as her right elbow because I kept
stealing kisses from James.
Then I turned the tables on him and told him to take a turn.
That man is a natural. Not as creative as I am but still so handy with a blade.
I think he may have been premature in slicing through her stomach so her
intestines spilled out; but I am jittery just thinking of him and that blade,
tearing through flesh with the same curious light in his eyes that I had when I
first started. James does his fair share of grunt work around crime scenes but
the majority of it happens when the body’s gone and all that’s left is to
interview witnesses and guard the yellow tape. He doesn’t deal with death as
often as even I assumed. This is his second time killing with me and that’s it.
I think, for a lot of people, that is too many dead bodies but I am actually
astounded that the body count it so low. Nine years with me and that’s all he
has to show for it.
He isn’t-
I’m not-
I don’t want him to become a killer but I just hadn’t
thought of the numbers. I’m speechless.
Cleanup took longer than expected and by the time we were
completely finished, it was 5am. I figured I would write this update and then
take a nap before getting ready for work but the less sleep I get, the more
blurry my vision gets while staring at this bright, white screen.
But we made it!
It was a fantastic anniversary and I can’t wait until I do
something other than a slightly-kinky sex act as a gift for the occasion. I
really need to get more creative; my husband is showing me up.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
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