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.

Totoro and a Visit From 2016, Part Two

 I don't know what's better than making out on the couch in front of a few episodes of Adventure Time! Probably nothing! But I wanted to take this snuggle party to bed.

First, I shuffled around in my playlist to find just the right song. I settled on Miles Fisher's cover of This Must Be the Place, dreamy and automated and perfectly spectrumy. "Home/Is where I want to be/but I guess I'm already there." The perfect longing, fulfilled. I felt a little self-conscious about the aptness of the song as we climbed the stairs.

I wanted Angel Boy in my bed so badly, and there he was, in my girly pink marshmallow cloud sanctuary, my happiest happy place. He was a happy place too. I took off my favorite (white with bi-colored flowers) summer princess dress, leaving on my favorite lavender lacy underthings, a gift from The Shy One that keeps on giving. Angel Boy stripped to his boxer briefs and I swooned with happiness feeling his soft, warm, fuzzy skin next to mine. On mine.

He was, as promised, softly dommy, but he let me pull his hair. As I carefully tugged at the scruff of his neck, a growl came from all the way inside him, he tensed and sprung upon me, that favorite kind of kiss where the tiniest part of me thinks I might be eaten.

He pulled down my pretty bra and sucked my nipples, too hard at first and then just right. "OH!" I cried out, mentally checking to remember the window was closed. I was in a cloud of blankets and stuffies and pleasure. When he went for my clit, I was soaked slick for him, the feeling was monumental. With his fingers inside me, I felt powerful, transcendent. I was grounded in my body in a way that felt new, a new kind of health.

After a good loud while, Angel Boy looked a little shyly into my eyes and asked-without-asking if I'd orgasmed, and I told him the tide would just keep rolling, let's take a break.

I love holding him and being held, kissing and nuzzling, but guess what I love even more: an impromptu sing-along. Tears for Fears Everybody Wants to Rule the World came on and, tentatively at first, we sang. 

"Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever..."

Friends, I don't know how he does it, but this guy stops time.

Totoro and a Visit from 2016, Part One

 Last Wednesday, Angel Boy and I had a date--he was coming over to watch My Neighbor Totoro on my comically small TV. I picked him up again from his Cute Guy Job and when he got in the car, his skin was cool from the work air conditioning. I kissed his hand and rubbed his cool arm all over my sweaty face. I'm sure I've described people as oases before, that's what he felt like, cool and soothing. And almost too beautiful to look at.

I was so excited to have him over to the series of nests that is my apartment. I made a special trip to get the snack he asked for. On my couch, he felt so right, by-now warm arms around me, bouncing to the Totoro theme, pure well-being.

Younger Cat didn't have to consider Angel Boy for too long before she was in my lap, purring with the vibes. We talked about things like why trees sometimes have necklaces on. Ohboy I just love Totoro so much. I love saying "soot sprites" as many times as I want to. I love petting the soft hair on Angel Boy's arm. I love going in for a cheek-kiss and getting a chip-filled mouth instead.

"Most people just want the mouth," he said and shrugged.

There was a new emotion!! How are there so many new emotions even at my advanced age?!

I asked him to hand me my new Build-a-Bear. She is a fairy bear covered with silver stars. Her name is Pinecone because I like the part in Fire Walk With Me when Laura finds a pinecone. She is scented like the most artificial of strawberries, the distilled essence of the 1980s.

"The perfect little girl smell" I said "That sounds weird but you know what I mean."

He said, blissfully and decisively, "Yeah, you're a little."

"I'm not...not..." I shrugged and then felt a whoosh of silence and safety. I felt peaceful and contained and treasured. Loved. It was me and him and the stuffie and the cat and somewhere in the house was the other cat and we were all together, a pack.

"You're in my pack" I said, and he agreed.

I don't know how long we stayed that way, but I felt an almost supernatural happiness, the kind that might come from sprouting seeds with a giant tripartite forest spirit who gets really excited about umbrellas.

Angel Boy had described himself as a "Soft Daddy Dom" the week before, and the parental nickname didn't bother my OCD like it usually does. Yes, I thought. Care and cuddling. Approval. Good girl. I don't think I'm a little because that would be too confusing with all the grownup stuff, but I hope those moments of feeling treasured, warm, and safe with stick with me for a long time to come.

Enchanted Diner Date With Angel Boy

He has just the most beautiful hands! <3

 Today I'm wondering if some loves might just be two dates long. 

I had Angel Boy pick a diner for our first date--even if it didn't work out, I'd still get to go to a diner! Though I hadn't been to this diner before, I knew there would be a comforting sameness to soften the anxieties of learning a possible new person. They had really beautiful Napoleons in the display case by the door, I may have to go back for one of those.

I was nervous driving over! One of my friends (Maybe the OCDest one) said he looked too young. He's in his mid-thirties, but the fear got in my head a little and it was hard not to let OCD have its say.

I picked him up at his cute-guy job. As soon as he was in my car, my fears whooshed away. The dynamic felt equal and sparky, kinda like meeting a worthy adversary you want to kiss. He took my arm right away, petted my hand, rifled around in the back of my hair while I drove.

His look reminded me of the following dreamboats: My first serious boyfriend,(Perfectly 1993 Guy ) Slater from Dazed and Confused, Eddie Vedder in his climbing-on-high-things-at-Lollapalooza-2 era, and the bookstore boss on whom I had a wild and music-fueled crush almost immediately after my marriage in 2003. (If I'd met Angel Boy in 2023, the symmetry would have been delicious.)

 He had a tattoo of a math pun on his arm. 

I felt Autistic Euphoria as we sat down in the diner and the banter machine whizzed to life and we settled into each other and settled into the comfy booth.

"Oversharing is my love language," I said cliche-ly, and he looked delighted and grabbed my hand.

"Oh you love me? I'm so glad."

We were kidding, but it did feel like a kind of instant love. It felt like we were taking over the whole diner with our vibes. Our waitress was curious about us, she asked if we'd known each other a long time, and we gigglingly said that we'd met a half hour ago. It must have been a slow night, because she came back with so many questions, like:

"What if his girlfriend doesn't like you?"

I was like "Of course she'll like me," but he launched into a deeper explanation of poly life. 

She told us she was done with dating, happy to stay home with her dog, but I think by the end of the night our joyful sluttiness rubbed off on her. I hope she's having the best adventures! And/or the best time staying home.

It was the kind of first date where you end up brainstorming a lot of other dates. I wanted to take him to the drive-in, the beach, and definitely to my place so I could see if the ropes liked him. Obviously he would need to watch Backrooms, My Neighbor Totoro, and Twin Peaks, and I was ready to watch anything I was assigned. I accidentally talked like he was already my boyfriend, and that didn't seem to scare him at all.

He's so warm and alive and present. And so beautiful. He has lips like a Renaissance cherub. When we kissed in the car on the way back to his place, it was like we'd been kissing our whole lives. Like his mouth was made for me. As I held his cheek to draw him deeper into the kiss, I felt my heart stir like he was moving in. He was.

Perfect Emo Night With The King of Carrot Flowers, Part Two

 

We went to Favorite Diner (As opposed to Neutral First Date Diner) to catch our breath and make this extraordinary moment a little more down to earth. It helped that he was in a work text chain putting out work fires as we sat down- somehow that took the pressure off. In between fielding texts, we didn't so much catch up as immediately launch into 20-year-old inside jokes, mostly Simpsons related. Between that an an exceptional turkey club, life was a perfect dream.

I don't think it's giving away the city by saying the sky was full of ashes that night. Sorry to be glib about disaster, but the fire sky really added to the overall emo of the situation. We brought out the KN-95s, with all their attendant grief. Our eyes stung and the coral/pink sun was world-endy, but my heart was full of joy and grace anyway. I don't know what's better in this world than parking on grass and moseying toward the gates with strangers of at least three generations, probably four.

BFF Formerly Sweetie walked slow with her walking stick and this was the first time we had to rent chairs instead of sitting our old butts on the grass, but other than those things, the three of us were the three of us again. We picked up our chairs, cocktails to go with the gummies in our tummies, and three matching T-shirts. (Which we did NOT put on! My symmetry brain really wishes I'd made that photo op happen!) KOCF got the new album on vinyl and I got it on CD- I should put it in the car and let it play all fall.

The opening band was Japanese Breakfast! They were dreamy and vibe-y and I liked how their gong was outlined in blue lights.

One of the first songs Death Cab played was This Is the New Year, which made me sob so openly and productively. Partly because I associate it with The Guy Next Door, but mostly because yes, YES! It's not the past. KOCF isn't lost anymore, and long-suffering Sweetie is now relievedly BFF. And we were at a concert, the home-est home you can get while surrounded by strangers. (Oh, boy, do I love strangers sharing a thing. Collective effervescence!!!!)

I promise I wasn't super intoxicated, except maybe by friend love, when my favorite part happened. They were playing Different Names for the Same Thing, and I looked around and saw it- there wasn't really any separation between any of us. Not between us or the chairs or Ben Gibbard or Japanese Breakfast's gong. OMG the Unified Field braving the smoky sky to visit my head this beautiful night. Everything, even the obscured skyline, even all my bitchy mistakes over the years, became unseparated for a little while. Ahh.

When KOCF came to my place to spend the night, I felt a deep carefulness. I want to never not be friends again, want to make sure I don't slip into stupid limerence any more times. I never want him to be not in my life again. The next day, we did ordinary things like go to my neighborhood cafe. I loved having him here. The cats loved having him here. BFF Formerly Sweetie loved having him here. I would please like this friendship to last and last and last: It might just be the best kind of love.