the edge.

a song to set the scene // the edge of glory by lady gaga

The first time I ever read about edging was likely in a Cosmopolitan article.

A naiive curious young woman, I was no doubt peeking out from under my covers when I was supposed to be sleeping, absorbing all I could about this exciting new world and all of the experiences I had yet to be involved in.

Edging is described as the point just before orgasm, involving cycles of increasing sexual stimulation and then stopping just before…

The finale.

So it came as a surprise to me the other day when my gem told me that I was edging.

No, we weren’t in the bedroom or anywhere remotely close to being frisky, so you can imagine the look of shock I gave him when he used the word edging to describe how I was waiting until the very last possible second where I could no longer keep the heavy weight of my eyelids from closing.

Yes, I was doing all I could not to succumb to a nap, waiting instead until I couldn’t possibly bear another second with my eyes open.

Strangely, the word fit.

Within days, I experienced another moment of edging.

Again, I wasn’t in the bedroom or anywhere remotely close to being frisky.

This time, I was holding in pee.

(Yes I know this isn’t good for you)

I was at home, doing chores, basically everything else under the sun save for using the restroom when all of a sudden, I realized I couldn’t wait any longer. The urge was too strong.

So I’m on my way to the bathroom, am but a few feet away from the porcelain throne when all of a sudden, I sneeze.

Do you ever squeeze your knees when you sneeze? The jingle from the radio about uncontrollable leaks sang through my head.

Well, I squeezed when I sneezed and unfortunately I peeds.

Yep, you read that right: I peed me pants.

I did. I really did.

Not my finest moment, but it happens.

So yeah, apparently, I like to edge.

When I nap, when I use the restroom, when I’m just about to….

You get the picture.

It’s funny, I was talking with a friend the other day and they mentioned how long it’s been since I last wrote on my blog.

Besides being somewhat unispired, and a little depressed this winter, I guess I’ve just been waiting around for inspiration to strike, for something big enough to happen where I wouldn’t have any choice but to jump at the keyboard and finally let loose.

But if I’ve learned anything from edging the last few days, it’s that it’s not always about the finale, but about the process of getting there.

I’ve never been one to just focus on the big stuff. I take all the little things, all of the seemingly unimportant observations, experiences, and moments, and I find meaning and purpose to them.

While peeing my pants isn’t necessarily described as big news (albeit, it is rather comical that a grown woman brought it upon herself), it is a funny story, and I learned something new about myself.

Apparently, I like to live life on the edge.