It’s taking me a long time to write these days, because
Sweetie bought me a Switch and I don’t spend very much time not on Animal
Crossing! The upside is, all of the imaginary flower-watering seems to have
cut my anxiety score exactly in half! Hooray! I’ve missed writing to you,
though—how have you been? I hope you’re well, happy, and registered to vote!
Maybe you already voted!
Anyway, so. At some point that summer, I moved out of
Beach Aunt’s beach house without even saying goodbye. She left me a modest bill
of 170$ which I didn’t try to pay back until ten years later—by then she wouldn’t
even cash the check! Beach Aunt was so kind before her Flat Earth/Anti-Mask/Openly
White Supremacist phase kicked in! I miss her.
I ended up moving into First Bitchy Gay Guy’s
apartment with him. Not too long after that I quit Great Adventure too. I’m
pretty good at stretching a last paycheck (See also: shoplifting.) but I don’t
know how I paid for my life that August! I sure didn’t quit smoking or
diner-ing! Maybe the guys took care of me, who knows.
The apartment was nice, with pretty hardwood floors
and wide windows overlooking a stone courtyard. It was sparsely furnished,
though, and the toilet was perpetually clogging. FBGG and I had sort of a George
and Martha vibe, part put-on and part real nastiness. It was both agitating and
familiar, having come from such a fighty home. We had quite the snit one night
when I spattered the pretty white patterned linoleum in the kitchen with RIT
Dye red during a painful and harrowing hair-dying incident!
The kitchen was maybe only stocked with ramen, cereal,
and pilfered diner coffee creams and sugars. Presumably also coffee?
So the stage wasn’t perfectly set for romance, but
romance happened anyway. FBGG switched rooms with me so Perfectly 1993 Guy and
I could have a little more snuggle room. The bed was a mattress on the floor,
with bright yellow sheets. The walls were wood-paneled and unadorned. The rooms
was warm and sparkly with love. He and and I didn’t know what we were doing in
the very best of ways, and he was unerringly loving and sweet.
My body was cooperative in all the ways except that
one. After years of indifferent/violent/cruel partners, I was really only able
to come by myself, and not always that! Perfectly 1993 Guy was fiercely (But
also somehow non-pressuringly) determined.
No one had ever gone down on me before, let alone
someone so beautiful, let alone someone with whom I was so thoroughly smitten!
Tenderly, kindly, with a gentle tongue and just the right amount of stubble, he
made love to me with his whole cute face.
I so much wanted to let go for him, but I would feel
the warmth and shudder recede almost as soon as it arrived. No matter how
steadfast of tongue he was, I couldn’t convince my body to trust him all the
way, to trust myself. I sure did love all the trying, though.
“Are you okay?” I asked. He seemed a little sad when
he came up for kisses and air.
He sighed. ”I just want to be able to do this for you.”
Of all the parts of this story, that line makes me the
most wistful. Will I ever hear that unconditional, sweet generosity from a
partner again? I hope so.
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