Student teaching is really taking it out of me, friends. To the point where I don’t know how to find myself at all some days.
Loneliness, fatigue, and a way-too-early Christmas commercial have been making me a little pine-y for this time last year, when I met both the Mayor of Kittentown and Bill within the span of a few weeks. Though I really value everything that’s happened since then, they were something really special and I miss them every day. There’s a little piece of me always whispering come back to them. Not out loud, that would be creepy, just around the edges of my consciousness when I’m falling asleep at night or hitting the snooze in the morning. It’s a dusky feeling, a curl-up-by-the-door-and-wait.
For those few months that I had them, it was my first glimpse of what a real bisexual life could be like. It was what I told myself my whole life that I couldn’t have. I was getting along mostly with Sweetie, getting excellent vanilla satisfaction from MKT, and collecting consensual bruises from Bill.
After all those years without the welcome weight of a man on me, I finally had it, and though the transition was sometimes terrible between me and Sweetie (There were a series of couch-themed fights, and the phrase “go suck some dicks” often came into play…) (Don’t mind if I DO, btw.) but for the most part my mood and our sex life improved.
They were never going to be long term—besides being monogamous, they both had a deep lack of chivalry—but I still wishwishwish I could have kept them. It feels unlikely that I’ll ever settle into a man again the way that I settled into them. I would love to jump in the sex-TARDIS and go back to being curled up with MKT and his cats watching Mystery Science Theater, or underneath Bill as his eyes bored into me, as he marked me too much with his teeth. As MKT kissed the bruises without asking why they were there.
Of course, I’ve moved forward, had adventures that neither one of them was equipped for, but together, they showed me what it could be like, all the different things to want, how to be a woman who is wanted by men.
It all seems so far away now. I have plenty of offers for friendly and no doubt expert floggings, but the dream of romance (or even the approximation of romance) seems so far away.
I don’t know if I’ll find love like that again, if I’ll ever check my inbox again to find the perfect song. Sometimes this year has an air of finality, a midlife crisis I made the most of and now have to leave. Those two might not have been right, might not have been mine, but they were close, and I let them be close. So, even if I can’t really mean it, come back.