pantoum's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SEXUAL ... SOMETHING I'm at the tail end of a couple of frustrating weeks of sexual ... something ... with Buzzcut, a woman who was my first ostensibly casual lover since I found my wife in bed with our married neighbor Dickboy back in July. I like many things about Buzzcut and thought we would be able to be friends with benefits, but this whole mess has just reminded me of all the reasons why being alone is so appealing. Buzzcut told me a few weeks ago how much she enjoyed reading my (apparently compelling) cross-country trip blog. She also said she approaches love interests in a casual manner since being deeply hurt by a breakup nine years ago, and that I have been on her list of women she would like to fuck for years now. Then she asked for my phone number. Well, thought I, this sounds uncomplicated, and I am certainly missing sex, so maybe we can have some fun together. She sent a cryptic message a few days ago though, asking "why am I hesitating to tell you . . ." that she's involved in an open relationship with an out-of-state ex. Buzzcut says they love each other, but neither is willing to relocate to be together. Oh and open has been an untested theory up till now, but she "supposes she always knew that [she] had the option to pursue bliss locally" if she chose to do that. Let me back up now and say that I have had some fun flirting since my breakup, but resisted intimacy previously because, well, only one other woman interested me enough to prefer spending time with her over playing in my head. She's still trying to figure out whether she wants to rekindle a relationship with her ex though. (Jebuslawdjebus when will lesbians remember all the reasons why they weren't compatible with their exes the first go 'round?) Also, dating seems to lead to relationship expectations, and I am almost certainly emotionally incapable of partnering right now. Buzzcut's friends-with-benefits proposal did appeal to me though, and so did the fact that she didn't seem like someone who would assume that we would be packing up the proverbial U-Haul after we kissed. So I took a deep breath, tucked my heart down into my pocket, and flirted back. We slept together pretty quickly and were enjoying our new intimacy until Buzzcut told Philly about me and me about Philly. Then what was open and easy became complicated and I started asking myself if I should back away because Buzzcut's definition of open left out a lot of details—including another woman's heart. Buzzcut says she recognizes the "impossibilities looming in her long-distance lovership," but being the one not in denial about this reality doesn't make things any easier. She also says she feels that she has become a split personality who is troubled in one realm but certain and enthusiastic in the other. Then she said that she and Philly were having issues and that she needed a little time alone to "sort out some heart matters," so we made a date for the weekend and parted. (Meanwhile, we have discovered that we overlap in some unexpected and interesting ways—top three, besides reaching adulthood without having a clue how to care for ourselves emotionally, are (1) we grew up near each other in SC; (2) we each grew up with a mentally ill parent whom we had to involuntarily commit; and (3) her father made an award-winning documentary about the small town in South Carolina in which I set my novel.) Needing distance from something that is supposed to be casual raised a couple of red flags for me, but I hoped that some space would help everything settle down. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to more (hopefully uncomplicated) intimacy too. So Friday rolled around and we had quite a time of it. Then Buzzcut said that Philly told her that I am falling for her. (I told her I am pretty sure that I can't trust anyone enough to fall in love right now.) Philly told her that I want to be in a relationship with her. (I don't know her well enough to have any idea if I want to be more than a friend with benefits, but do know that living alone has reminded me of just how much I like living alone.) And why the hell is Buzzcut sharing details of what we say to each other with Philly anyway? Then Buzzcut and Philly started making rules. Buzzcut and I cannot fuck in Buzzcut's bed because she promised Philly that she would only fuck her there. (We did anyway.) Buzzcut has to provide Philly with all the details of our interactions to allay her anxieties, etc. ad nauseum. And all of this has left me wondering how something that was supposed to be so casual has become so complicated. So now I'm pondering. I like Buzzcut. I like fucking Buzzcut. I want to continue fucking Buzzcut and I want her to continue fucking me because, well, she's good at it—but not if it involves all this emotional upheaval. Concentrate on your writing, I tell myself, because people will just hurt and disappoint you. Now let me back up and say that I have worked long and hard to get to the point where I can (1) feel, (2) figure out what I feel, and (3) explain what I feel, but number three is still difficult for me when I am unsure of where I stand with someone. I mostly don't stutter anymore either, except when I'm trying to articulate my feelings in a space in which I feel emotionally vulnerable. Then I stutter and stammer and try to get my words to come out, but all too often just opt for casual conversation that results in my not having to talk about my feelings anymore. Then I write about them in my journal instead, which is easier for me. • Buzzcut emailed me to say that she had a very satisfying weekend with Philly, and, well, that just pissed me off. I mean, I (now) know that Philly is her primary squeeze (so primary that she neglected to tell me about her) and that I am a novelty toy, but don't say you want to fuck me and then fuck me and then change your mind and say you can't fuck me and then change your mind and fuck me and then say you need some fucking space and so you can't fuck me and then tell me how fucking satisfied you feel after fucking your fucking Philly grrlfriend!!! So here's the deal. Buzzcut and I are physically attracted to each other and have difficulty hugging without this leading onward and downward, but that's just lust, physical attraction. I have some brain attraction too, but am an emotional zombie right now who needs to keep things at the physical level. (Plus, I'm pretty sure she lacks too much outward passion to keep me interested for very long—although her intelligence could keep turning my head despite her Midwestern (which she's not) reticence. I've been asking myself why I didn't run as soon as the processing and rules—and a person whose heart was involved—entered the picture. And then it dawned on me: I pull off the appearance of functioning a whole lot better than I actually function right now, and the breakup of my eleven-year relationship with the Ginger still hurts so much some days that I don't understand how I even got out of bed and made it into work on time. I have no clue when I'll heal either, but was at least relieved to know that I can enjoy sex again. Buzzcut asked if the Ginger is the love of my life and I'm worried that she is—but gawd I hope that's not the case because I'm only forty-two and plan to live a lot longer and would like to feel what the Ginger and I felt again at some point in my life. Ending intimacy with Buzzcut makes me sad. I will miss kissing her and talking with her and fucking her and what she does to my nipples. But I am trying to remember that I'm fragile too, even if I don't like admitting this out loud . . . or to myself. I have to force myself to interact with people right now, and receiving mixed messages only encourages me to retreat back into myself in an emotionally unhealthy way.
So blah. 2:36 p.m. - 2005-02-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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