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.
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,