Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Worries and Wonders for Casual Times



Friends, it will surprise exactly no one that it’s taking me some time to get over Steampunk Guy. I didn’t really realize that until I was on a hike last night with my BFF Angel Face having all kids of mentionitis about it. All those transformative experiences in such a short time make it still really difficult to have any perspective about him, even if it means I risk losing my awesome breakup award.

With that in mind, I want to spend exactly no more time trying to make myself be casual about someone I’m actually bonkers about. When the time comes that I’m a little more past my divorce and safely settled into my own place, I look forward to finding a guy I can just go ahead and fall for, and he might even fall in return.

In the meantime, I’ve been mulling over how I can keep playing without getting my heart tangled up in anybody until I’m ready. I know there are no magic rules that can keep me from going to crushtown—after all, I fell for Bill just by exchanging song links, and I got all those daddy feelings for Fireguy just from one approving look during a casual public scene.

I do have one non-lovey-dovey ongoing thing: Old-Timey Guy and I have played off and on for more than a year now and I’ve never even had a little twinge of wishing things were different. He is certainly affectionate, but I’ve never kissed him, he’s never put anything inside me, we’ve never been alone, and he’s never given me aftercare. I’ve never needed aftercare because I’ve never been to subspace with him. (Haven’t been to subspace with anybody since The Man. It might be a while on that one.) Maybe it comes down to those things, or maybe it’s not what we do or don’t do, but just that the feelings are genuinely just friendship feelings.

So I don’t know. The idea of going however long without kissing or fucking is unappealing to me, but so is the idea of trying to rein my feelings in while I do those things. I did just break up with everybody I wanted to fuck or kiss, so I suppose I maybe do need space from it.

While divorce-grief has me fragile, I did make some rules that I like:

1. No more than two drinks ever.
2. Leave when it feels even a little bit icky.
3. Aftercare, if needed, will be self-provided.


My sense of self-preservation is stronger than it’s ever been, so I feel confident in my yesses and nos, but I also know that my heart runs away with me sometimes. I’m not sure what the solution is.

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