OMG, Sweet Valentine!

 I'm back at work now, but one of the nicest things about my weird extra time off this summer was sitting in my favorite park and reading. Thursday before last, I think, I sat there a while working on my Fierce Self-Compassion workbook. (An awesome framework to focus on once my twelve-step Codependent stuff started feeling too harsh.) It was the most beautiful late-summer day, a little breeze in the air and all the fall flowers shining.

As I was walking home past peach roses and giant pink mallows and past-their-peak crape myrtle trees, I saw a familiar skinny gorgeous man across the street, and smiled. He said hello, and my brain eventually processed who I was seeing! Sweet Valentine! I hadn't talked to him since he broke things off with me in March, but he seemed glad to see me.

"Can I come across the street give you a hug" I asked and he said "No, let me come to you."

Oh friends, this hug. Or rather, series of hugs, absolute and wholehearted. He wasn't a stranger at all, our bodies still felt bonded. It was a joy and relief and lowkey a religious experience to be held by him again, even chastely, under a tree on a late-summer favorite street. We held each other so tight, like we'd been separated in a war or something. I didn't want to let go and I don't think he did either.

When we finally stepped apart again, I said "Do you think we could get together for a very low-key coffee and catch up?"

"Yes," he said, "Because..."

"Like, soon? Or in a long time?" I interrupted him, chirpy and overwhelmed with forward heart-momentum.

"Something in between," He said, and went on to tell me he's in the midst of separating from his wife!

A weird part of solo-poly life is doing my best to keep mum about the marriages I end up adjacent to, trying to respect their space but sometimes just kinda seeing the writing on the wall. 

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry! Well, not that sorry." I said.

I touched his heart and felt string there, a little startled because it reminded me of our rope moments. It wasn't rope though, it was  necklaces with quartz and labradorite, which he showed me, explaining that he'd just finished charging them. Maybe that was the source of this crazy energy I was feeling, but probably not. (Also, a guy who likes crystals in a slightly more floaty way than I do?! So cute.)

We talked for a few more minutes. I wanted to keep him there talking with me forever, but he was going to meet friends. I told him seeing him made my heart sing and I would text him my number when I got home, since of course I still had his.

When I first saw him in Favorite Cafe last February, I felt a golden loop surrounding us- attraction or destiny or some mix of the two. This time, it wasn't a gold loop but a bright yellow-white sun feeling, shining directly out of my heart. I was giddy for the rest of the day, almost too giddy for my afternoon nap. I was brought into my body in a way I'd been missing. I was home, layers of home, grounded but full of hope.

He'll text me when and if it's time to catch up. I've never been so sure what to do about a feeling! Absolutely nothing. I looked up what people use labradorite for, and it said connection to the divine. Even if I never see him again, this was a moment of divinity that would be enough on its own. I'm so glad he's thriving and growing and standing up for himself and being a lil bit witchy like me. I'm so happy to live in the world with him, and I hope our respective higher powers conspire us to that coffee someday.

Til then, faith. Til then, the freedom to do absolutely nothing about it.

Puzzle Guy Cheered Me Up! :)

 

By now, most of my missing-Angel-boy has alchemized into missing the person I thought he was, plus lowkey OCD hum of I'll never find love again that I try to ignore as best I can. But last week during therapy, it was deep. There was a lot to confront. It was one of those sessions where I said to myself mid-sob "This is so good. So productive, thank you."

"Oh my poor heart," I said, calming down a little. I'm really really proud of how kind I could be towards myself in the midst of hurt and grief. I've been working in my Fierce Self-Compassion workbook, and it shows. Growing and changing and whatever, hooray! 

Anyway it felt fatelike when! I picked up my phone and! There was Puzzle Guy, asking if he could come over after work and grab the sneakers he left here last time. I said sure, as long as he grabbed me too! 

I got a little bit of my usual post-therapy nap in before he arrived, and I saw no reason to exit the bed when he got here. We both took off our clothes and he got into bed with me and just...rested. He was so warm and safe and comforting, it felt like I was getting a reward just for existing. Maybe I was!

I wasn't sure if I'd be into sexytimes so soon after all the sobbing, but as we lay there being cozy and catching up, I felt a little flicker through me, and after a bunch more snuggling just came out and said "I'm feeling pretty horny now."

That'll get a guy out of little spoon position and onto my face. His kisses were such a lovely mix of urgent and soft, just as delightfully tongue-forward as could be. When he went for my nipples, I watched his long tongue play and play, knowing I'd picture that hotness for maybe the rest of my personal-time life. He pointed his tongue and wagged it over my tits, slurping me up.

And oh, Puzzle Guy's dick. It's looong and thick and uncut, infinitely play-with-able. His knee had gone out a few days before, so I didn't expect to get fucked. But I was wrong. I bent over the bed and stood on my tiptoes so he could slide in, and it felt so, SO good. I was immediately screaming into my pillows, and it wasn't long before I had to ask for a break. He was overwhelming and I was GRATEFUL.

Come to think of it, this was maybe the first time I EVER asked for a break during penetration, though it was far from the first time I've ever gotten overwhelmed. I was always so afraid the dick was gonna go away and never come back, so I just powered through! No regrets there, but I really try to keep my powering-through to a minimum these days.

After my break, another round, this time on my back with my hips straining upward to meet him.

Friends, I've had so many lovely connections and progresses and joys all year, but it had been WAY too long since I just got thoroughly FUCKED. Oh I needed it.

As he was getting ready to go home, I lay on the silky sheets of my bedside floor-nest, sighing dreamily. I was spent, in a cloud of relief and pleasure. I walked around carrying extra sensuality for a few days after, satisfied and soft.

Puzzle Guy remembered to take his sneakers with him this time, who knows if or when he'll come back. If he does, I'll welcome him with open arms and open legs, oh thank you, thank you, thank you!

Last Magic With Angel Boy, Part Two

I don't think my next-to-the-bed nest has ever looked more beautiful. That dress smelled like him so emphatically. <3 <3 <3

"Can we go upstairs and be cats?" I asked after a few more Adventure Time episodes, and yes, we could.

We stripped to our underwear and got into my pink fluffy bed. I'd just dumped a bunch of Oasis and Psychedelic Furs onto my Virgo Season playlist, making it a little uneven, but perfectly dreamy. We curled up in animal bliss until the horniness took over.

I can remember the exact sensation of his fingers inside me, desire so strong it bordered on an itch. His nails were maybe a little too long, but not unpleasantly so. He held back my wrist with his other hand and indulged my halfhearted struggle. I loved being in his arms and under his power so much. I loved his scent, his long hair I could tangle my hands through. I loved kissing his mouth, his forehead, the tip of his nose. His sensitive nipples will live rent-free in my mind forever. Oh the ecstasy of this connection, oh the miracle of it.

I'm not gonna feel bad or embarrassed or ashamed about Fast Love anymore. I worried about it after the disaster of The Guy Next Door and the whiplash of Sweet Valentine, but I still love those loves, still value their parts in my life so much. Sometimes, I just know, and sometimes it goes by fast. Last night when I was laying in bed by myself, stoned and happy on the edge of sleep, I was able to name what happened: I'd hitched a ride on a star.

As much as I loved our time together, Angel Boy didn't have the spoons to text me much between visits and that made me feel lonely, too vulnerable, too weighed down by uncertainty. This was the exact thing I drove The Shy One nuts about, and I wasn't going to make that mistake again. It was difficult and messy and sad to let Angel Boy go, but I know it's cruel and controlling to stick around hoping someone will change.

And you know what? It was cruel how hard I pushed myself to change, too. There's never gonna be someone I can feel completely certain about, but I can find people whose rhythms don't twist the uncertainty knife. I'm so grateful for my time with Angel Boy, my Three Date Love. Maybe next time, I'll make it to four dates. In the meantime, my heart is so grateful and full.

 

Last Magic With Angel Boy: Part One

His specific kind of chips, Aldi version. I spoiled Angel Boy and I'm so glad.

The last time Angel Boy came over, I got into a princess costume right away, just because. He let me pick out a dress for him to wear as well. I wish you could see how beautiful he was. I wish I had taken more pictures, darn me being so present and in-the-moment!

After our politics/I love yous adventure, I wanted Angel Boy and I to really talk, so I tried this dice game that worked before, with The Shy One. When I proposed the idea, he seemed so excited, but by the night of the date, he had forgotten. He just wanted to watch Adventure Time and cuddle, but he got into the game pretty quickly. He said I was glad I'd thought of it, he really didn't know how to talk about any of that stuff.

I knew I was codependent-ing, trying to run the whole connection on my own because I sensed that no forward motion would come from his end. Being an artist and a codependent, I feel like I can sometimes conjure whole relationships one-sidedly, carry them along on my own momentum and effort until the resentment and inertia become too much, never knowing what's real or mutual. Also though, I have Relationship OCD, so not knowing what's real or mutual is part of my day-to-day life.

The plan for the evening, after we talked, was birthday spanks! We'd joked that I would get 204 spanks, 52 on each cheek with hands, then flogger. His flogger looked a little flimsy, but I looked forward to it with delight anyway. I've been woefully unspanked the last few birthdays, oh no!

But first, episodes. It took us a while to figure out where we'd left off in our Adventure Time viewing, but we landed on one that featured a surprising amount of spanking for a kids' show! The coziness between us was swift and thorough, bonded on the couch like the little pack animals that we are.

I asked if I could sit at his feet and put my head on his knee, and he said yes. I spread out a blanket on the floor and settled into a beatific pink glow, a magic stillness. I asked to make sure my tiara wasn't poking him. My pink tutu felt dreamy but not surreal, just me being me. He scritched my head in a rhythm that suggested he was either really in the groove or absent-minded, who's to say.

Angel Boy described himself as a Soft Daddy Dom (on reflection, he's actually none of those things) and I felt it. Though I was a ways away from being able to use the D-word with him, I felt it in my heart. I felt charmed, cherished, and safe. I felt right-size in the universe, insignificant and awed. The peace between us was thick and soporific, there'd be no spanks tonight.

Totoro and a Visit from 2016, Part Four

 

Another thing happened after our time machine visit from The Bern. I was walking him to the door at his place and Angel Boy said "I like you. In fact, I think I can even say I love you."

"Awww I love you too!" I said. Maybe this was a red flag, but it didn't feel that way. Maybe he was just trying to fix the fight or make sure I didn't go away, but I said it because I meant it, and I'm pretty sure he did to.

So I didn't do what maybe I should've done, which was politely say goodbye after all the misogyny. But I am so, SO tired of the ways I let Putin control my love life! I wanted to try something new.

When I got home from the I love yous, I wrote to him and told him how hurt I was about the politics, how much grief and loss the conversation had brought up. I said I was going to give myself a few days to let things settle. He apologized and said he would be waiting patiently for my return.

The giving-myself-time thing was so cool! I always wanted to try it, to slow down and let myself process. After a couple days, my heart warmed and I knew what to say, so I said it.

This isn't the first far-left cutie to talk about my political life with contempt. I know being hated for being a Democrat is far from being the biggest injustice in the world, but I hate it. I just hate it so much. I've lost a few Millennial friends this way, the contempt is so baked in! Baked in by decades of GOP attacks on Hillary, by valid critiques of stupid centrist "tough on crime" decisions, by the won't-someone-please-think-of-the-white-men rotten heartbeat of American Himpathy.

It's so painful to be the enemy, to live in separate worlds from my younger friends, from my family, from man after man after man. I just didn't want to let this one go, so I didn't. We made it to our third date and I'm so glad we did.

Meanwhile! Birthday Week Spanks from Puzzle Guy!

 We had our first date weeks ago, a diner that closed too early and a delicious afternoon watermelon mojito instead. I wasn't sure about him, but I'm pretty sure all of dating is uncertainty for me to practice with my OCD therapist.

Late August can eat up your life in its own special way, but we finally got together this week. (We did have date 1.5 by text one evening when I had cute undies on and was feeling horny, but that's another story.)

I love a puzzle that's about a tea set, with cakes and china and flowers. Usually, there are cats, but this one is catless. It makes up for that error by being full of pink and patterns and legible sky pieces. Puzzle Guy really did come over to work on the puzzle, it's not a euphemism. 

He wanted to do a good job, I could tell by the way he tried to smoosh the pieces together instead of casually sifting and sorting like I like to. It was midafternoon after his Cute Guy Job released him. He'd biked over and was sweaty- his scent was gorgeous and made me sure I would kiss him. First though, nuzzling our feet under the puzzle table, cute as can be.

After we'd puzzled and chatted enough, I sent him downstairs so I could change. Pink or red, I asked, and was glad when he said red. I put on my beautiful red bra and panty set, a matching red lace nightie, a soft flowered robe. This outfit always make me feel a little sexy-in-quotation-marks, but I love it for that too. Hard to miss the opportunity to feel hot when you're all in red lace.

We kissed (It's such a joy when someone you think will be a good kisser is a good kisser!!) before I bent over the bed for my birthday spanks. His hits were strong and stinging, and I wiggled and kicked my feet with delight. He was commanding, but silly too, just the way I like to be dominated. A guttural moan came all the way from my solar plexus, deep relief and celebration.

He couldn't stay long, but he did leave his sneakers, so I guess he'll have to come back! Thanks for helping me start my birthday week right, Puzzle Guy. Come back and get your shoes and me!

Totoro and a Visit from 2016, Part Three

 

The jump scare is coming up, but first, lacy things and dancing! Angel Boy and I were laying around (By the next date, this part would be named Being Cats and I love that so much for us!) talking about our Feeld profiles and I told him one of the reason he'd intrigued me was that he wears girls' clothes in some of his pictures! Heart eyes emoji!

And, OHlook, I have a closet full of lingerie, would he like to try something on?

"You pick something for me," he said, and I picked my Barbie-est pink teddy.

"I warn you," he'd said earlier, "I might look prettier than you in a dress..."

I'd say the pretty was about even, but I still can't stop thinking about how beautifully the lace covered his chest. I put on my favorite see-through bodysuit and Rumors by Lizzo and Cardi B came on. I couldn't stop myself from dance-flailing around, the joy was so profound! I'm gonna leave that silly rhyme.

Kissing and dancing with him in our pretty outfits was a wild, childlike joy, and it made me feel so unhinged that I kept apologizing even though there was no reason to. In my dancey exclaimings, I accidentally sprayed spittle all over his cute nose and he winced. I wiped off his face and we kept laughing and dancing. Life was free and beautiful and silly and horny and PERFECT.

Soon it was time to take him home, though, and (jaws music) he spotted the picture I keep by the door of me shaking Hillary Clinton's hand. Spite sparked up in his eyes out of nowhere and he said "Oh is this from when she was friends with Trump?"

"No that was the eighties, I think." My heart fell down several flights of stairs. Not this conversation.

But it was exactly that conversation, similar in tone if not content to the last fight I had with my dad. OHREALLY?! A man telling me what's wrong with Hillary and (by extension, in my mind) all the free election/protest labor I've done in the past decade?! The far left sure loves labor, unless it's women and people of color doing it.

Friends, he used the phrase "charisma lessons."

But! When I made points about Russian interference and how shitty/misogynist it is to say Bernie's primary losses were rigged, Angel Boy listened, or at least pretended to.

This conversation transports me instantly to my own personal Backrooms, and here I was having it for the nth time with someone I really, REALLY liked. I can't keep running into the same thing over and over and having the same flight response. But oh! This hurt my heart and made me worry that the easy equity between us had been an illusion. I had a lot to think about.