The Extra Arm

Lying in bed with him – check. My head is nuzzled up on his chest and overlapping in a good way on his neck – check. I’m super into him – check. He’s super into me – check. We are being cutesy/intimate/thank-f’in-god-she-doesn’t-refer-to-men-by-their-name-on-her-blog-to-expose-my-inner-softie he thinks to himself as his eyes scroll across this page – check!

Yes, I do tend to cuddle on occasion. I’m not a hardcore cuddler, and if there was a Facebook cuddle group I doubt I’d be interested in joining, but there are a few men who have broken me in, cuddle wise. In those moments I like it. I lose myself for a minute in the comfort that is someone else. Someone who I actually care about and am interested in seeing his face that close up, and with someone who cares about me in a whole we’re-emotionally-attached-to-each-other-kind-of-way. Heavy, I know. Sometimes to keep busy and not focus on the heavy, yet cutesy nature of it all, I keep busy by matching my breathing to the other persons, almost like a secret game. They breath in, I breath in. They breath out, I breath out, recycle, repeat. At other times I feel calm and cool, that is until I realize that my hand is awkwardly resting sandwich styles between our bodies. I begin to notice it as the pins and needles initially strike. Now what, I begin to wonder? I suddenly feel awkward about it and spend a moment or two plotting where I can move it to in a sexy and dignified so-unobvious kind of way. But there never is one because there is no damn place for that random bronzed arm to go. It just sits there limp between us as we lie facing one another. Close up on my discomfort. So after thinking about it for some time (some is an understatement), I mention it to my softie of a partner. I almost feel like I have to mention it to break the awkwardness because he so must know it’s as awkward as I do. Certainly he’s thinking about my arm. My arm that is now asleep. My arm that I so desperately want to/need to move for my own sanity, yet I don’t want to kill ‘the moment’.

Have you and your arm been stuck in this dreaded position? Or are you perhaps a more lovey-dovey kind of folk and you don’t even notice the random arm caught between the two of you as you gaze into his eyes, which are so extremely close up (almost too extremely close up) to your face? I’m not going to lie…sometimes I get wrapped up in that moment that it’s almost worth keeping my mouth shut about the arm mixed up in a concoction of being half asleep and half in pain, in order to stay in that exact moment. Awww. I know, I know. Let’s not dwell on this.

Has your man complained about his awkward arm, asking you to move off of him mid-cuddle, complaining of pins and needles? Lets not take this request personally. In this day in age where hooking up is the norm, the cuddle session is few and far between that many ladies see the cuddle as something to take part in with a partner they feel strongly for, after their buzz fades. That means women are opening themselves up to the chance to read into way too many things, and those silent actions are killers. We totally misconstrue stories in our head always expecting the worst. Face it ladies, if he’s cuddling you and you are sober, he’s probably into you. So when he asks you to move off his arm, realize the random all-reved-up-with-no-place-to-go arm has made a come back, get off his arm almost immediately (because God knows he likely waited a long enough time to get up the courage to ruin the moment and ask you to change positions). It’s not you, it’s not him, it’s the trapped arm that still remains an unsolved mystery in the cuddle department of couples everywhere.

Can you catch the random arm in the images below?


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