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.

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

 I was panicking in the car when BFF Formerly Sweetie and I were on the way to the train station to pick up King of Carrot Flowers, our best friend from when we were first married, whom we hadn't seen in about twenty years. The feelings were too much! One of the great loves of my twenties, whom I'd (on brand from way back) alienated with a crush. No, by feeling so much love for him that I went around woozy until he very kindly told me he wasn't a sharer. I couldn't accept it and picked a fight I feel very stupid about. It was in like 2006 or 2007 but I was as embarrassed as though no time had past.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?!" sobbed 2026 me. Seeing Death Cab for Cutie with a long lost friendlove?! It was too much, this was terrible, how was I ever gonna get through this? Twenty years of feelings, Snoqualmie Falls-ing out all at once, in a 7-11 parking lot on the way to the train station.

I got myself together and went in to meet his train. (At this train station, I also dropped off Perfectly 1993 guy, in 1994, after a post-breakup visit, bittersweet in a babydoll dress, longjohns, and thrifted combat boots. And these days, it's where I pick up my niece when she comes into town for a concert! I love this train station so much.)

King of Carrot Flowers, when I finally saw him, was exactly the same. The curly red/blonde hair. The striped white shirt he picked up in his travels, with a fish embroidered on the sleeve. A goofy grin promising all the inside jokes from both 20 years ago and recently--everything was there, not lost at all but strolling into my city a little late for lunch.

Knotty Thursday, A Blue Ribbon for Me!

 Friday before last, it was my yearly work evaluation. It was fine! I'm on my way to a fourth year (!) in a job, that's long for me. I lost a few points in the "positivity" category, which felt vexing at first because with a few accommodations in place and way less masking my autism, this was my happiest work year yet! It makes me sad (And enflames my sense of justice!) that maybe the less-masking cost me those (TWO) points, but I'm thinking maybe positivity is something I can let go of a little. Maybe some of my general Polyanna-ing is armor I don't need anymore. Shrug emoji!

Anyway, that night, I wanted to reward myself! A good work year, a lovely new summer job on the horizon, so much peace and growth at every Codependents Anonymous meeting, OCD a much quieter influence--I'm really really proud of myself. I'm glad I gave myself this reward, I really have been the goodest girl! <3 <3 <3

His Name Is Off the Mailbox

 

Thanks, Mountain Goats!

The Guy Next Door is gone. I finally had the courage the other day to retrieve my flower pots that had wandered into his yard. On my side of the border between our places, he left his beleaguered monstera-y plant, with crinkled-up leaves and bent stems. I'm not a healer of plants or men, so I put the plant at the curb for someone the plant has less baggage with to rescue.

It's lonely without him. (The man, not the poor plant.) Even after we stopped talking, he was kind of an imaginary friend. I liked knowing when his car was home, the state slogan on his license plate felt like a comforting/vexing chime in my head. Whoever moves in next won't be like this, I hope, won't get all tangled up--I'll probably only notice them if they're having a particularly loud conversation or smoking on the patio, or if they have a cute pet.

This guy, I was insane about him and insane with him, but the connection still meant something to me. The door that opened between us, that let two messed up minds find comfort in each other, I still think it's a miracle.

In the cold cold depths of winter, when I was still learning not to go to his door, I lit candles for myself in the window, both to ward off the pain and to show myself love. (Also there was an Indivisible directive about window-candles. Mine can't be seen from the street, but they still count.) I hoped the light gave him comfort too, snowday after snowday, but that really wasn't my business.

I'm still figuring out how to thaw. I'm DEEP in my step work and leveling up my family estrangement, trying how to figure out how to treat myself if I am, as I'm beginning to see, worthy of kindness and care. I took a dating break until at least June, but I'm starting to wish and hanker.

When The Guy Next Door showed up last summer with his red cups of hibiscus tea, I was jagged and at sea from last summer's trauma work, from a lifetime of trauma work. He gave me such a pretty spark and distraction, a (kind of fucked up) way to care for myself until I was ready for the next phase of growth and healing.

I imagine him out and about in some beautiful sex-positive frenzy, having all the fun my codependent ass isn't ready for. I imagine him going home to Think About What He's Done. I imagine him joining the life of some more copacetic and traditionally-shaped girl and hitchhiking that life wherever that takes him.

I'll probably never know. I get to stay here and try to be emotionally sober and not get swooshed into any more distractions while I face myself, while I learn to love myself. I miss my friend, whether he was imaginary or not. He doesn't live in my heart forever, I don't think, but I wish him everything good. And I hope someone is taking good care of that plant.

OMG a New Feeling: The Golden Loop

The Flaming Lips: Fight Test

I've been doing pretty well since last post, focusing on my Twelve Step stuff, enjoying work, getting situated for summer. The sadness of letting Sweet Valentine go is still with me, partly because I may never get to know his perspective on our two magical dates. He said he still liked me when he broke things off, and that may have to be enough. 

Hurt feelings and Symmetry OCD make it hard to talk about my own perspective, but something important happened to me and I want to try and get it into words.

Part if my unmasking autism process is, I feel emotions in new ways! With new physical sensations. Like, when I cry, I can physically feel it coming straight up from my heart, and that feels beautiful, like a real and healthy release instead of just a ripple in a river of unending sorrow. NBD.

Maybe it was yoga and not really SV at all, but on our first date, almost immediately after he sat down next to me, I felt a golden sparkly hula hoop light circling my lower waist, circling us both together. It wasn't moving hula-ish-ly, it was still, it was the stillest thing in the universe. I was the stillest thing in the universe, warmly and (it felt) permanently in god's grace with him.

I tried to think of a less-mystical way to type that sentence, but there isn't one.

This was different from my Pink Haze of Desire or the scattered giddy lunacy I felt towards The Guy Next Door. This was grounded and safe and exactly where I needed to be.

It feels wrong and unfair to think that Sweet Valentine didn't feel the same comfort and surety, and I don't know that he didn't, before reality sunk in.

I had the golden loop with me all through our break, it's what kept me strong and (I thought) kind in all that uncertainty. 

I can still feel it now, telling me I'm/we're safe, telling me that this is everything working itself out.

The next time I feel The Golden Loop with someone, I'll try to slow down and see what it's trying to tell me. I'd love to listen to that stillness instead of the urgency and ugliness of OCD. I would love, dear Golden Loop, for you to be in charge now. Don't let me chase any more treasures away, including the treasures that are me. 

My word for the year and my dating plan through June: Higher Power is my anchor partner, let's see where it goes.