Three Good Nos!

 Friends, I'm dying to tell you what's going on with The Guy Next Door, but first, a series of very modest miracles. I feel like my Higher Power scooped me up a few weeks ago, like if I keep doing trust, I'm on my way to healingtown.

It started with Summer Princess. The week before Thanksgiving, she told me she had to leave town abruptly, and said she wanted to get together before she went. We planned a day-after-Thanksgiving brunch and I was excited to catch up, but I had trepidations. I thought the leaving wasn't the right move, and I could feel the urge to rescue her or get her to try to see the error of her ways.

Not knowing the whole story, I couldn't possibly have known if her ways even HAD an error, but leave it to a codependent to just think I know everything anyway! I thought about cancelling the brunch, but then I just...didn't. I thought I could probably get through pancakes without trying to rescue anybody.

But! I was just starting to get ready to go when I got her text--she'd already left. And I felt a whoosh of relief--She had known the right thing to do for herself and done it. I didn't need to weigh in or try to control the situation, it just was! I knew I would miss her and that she might not be okay, but I was so, so proud of her for doing what she needed to do. It gave me a whole new faith in other people, and hope for my own path too.

The second Good No came shortly before a planned second date with Dreamy Playlist Angel. I was excited to see him! He had even been practicing a harness for me, as far as I knew. His text came the morning of the date, saying he didn't want to do casual right now. He said I was wonderful but that he wanted to get his act together so he could hope for more serious relationships. The same whoosh! Such a very good boy! Once again I felt guided by the divine, like I was in a flow I didn't need to try and control.

WHAT IF EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT'S RIGHT FOR THEMSELVES and I can trust them to tell me?!

The third Good No was a concert date with Mr. Long Distance. I had an extra ticket to a show I knew he would like in a nearby city, so I asked out of the clear blue if he'd like to come join me, go to the concert, and share my cozy Airb! Kind of insane given that we'd only ever had a video date, but he said yes! We had a nice catch-up over video and I was soooo excited to see him! I remembered how gorgeous his dick was from our video date way back when! Woohoo!

There's a line from The New Pornographers that I think of sometimes when I'm doing too much to make something happen: "I've pencil-sketched the scene, it's feeling Byzantine." That's kind of how I felt the morning I was getting ready to go to the concert. I was excited but also! We don't know each other in person at all! I would have to figure out how to eat in front of him! My nervous system felt out of whack, but I wanted to see him. It was a lot of scary new things, but I could probably figure it out!

He was taking a Lyft to a bus to a train, and he missed the train. He said it gave him a bad feeling and he would have to cancel. Whoosh. We would have had so much fun, but I was just as deliriously happy to sit in the rafters and be a concert goof by myself. I transferred my extra ticket to my Airb host, who sent it to a friend of a friend.

I know I can't always flow through life with the universe deciding things for me, but I'm very grateful when it does. I feel brave for whatever comes next, and I'll tell you more soon. :)

Okay, Yes, It Was a Miracle

 

The tides of heartbreak shift so fast! Last night, I wrote this draft about miracles, but my mood this morning is kind of just—well that was a crazy thing to try! Why did I think the thing with me and The Shy One could EVER work?! I mean, it did work, in its own halting way, as long as we could manage it, but, really, this?! Nuts.

A therapist told me once, not unkindly, that I may not have the best judgement. She was talking about how I thought I should be a full-time teacher in a pretty harsh school district. Actually though, I’m glad I did that too. Sometimes I do a hard and beautiful thing that smashes me to smithereens, but I come back together eventually, in a new, expansive, not necessarily wiser shape. Once in a while, I break myself. I don’t think I do it on purpose.

But let me stop comparing this cute man who wasn’t a match to the job that nearly killed me. There’s no why except attraction, except curiosity, except love. It’s beautiful how two such badly mismatched people could have tried so hard, for so long. (To me, ten months with an asterisk is LONG.) I was fighting so hard for what he couldn’t give. He tried his heart out to be enough for me, and it made him sad that he couldn’t get there. I hope he felt acknowledged enough, appreciated enough.

A year ago, when I was getting ready for Valentine’s Day and enjoying the last bursts of loveliness with The Good Boy, I would never have imagined the year of love and adventure that was to come! Even the sequel with The Song Sender seems like it was fated, written in the stars—and that guy SUCKED.

Now here I am, with a for-later treasure trove of frilly things, a deep abiding love in my homebody heart for Sierra Leone, (Buy WHY, Frank Ocean song. Just why.) a Hidden Folder full of hotness and cuteness that I never, EVER would have dared to imagine when I started these adventures 11 years ago.

Even that Monday “good morning” text that went missing in the ether, that accidental silent morning that made me cry so hard and so deep about feeling so disconnected, even that perfectly ordinary glitch seems like the most powerful divine intervention I’ve ever witnessed.

How could something that was THIS much of a mess still feel so sacred, so how-it-was-all-supposed-to-happen?

Darn gratitude. I was really trying to be salty. I’m sure I’ll be that too.

Happy Friday! Song of the Week: All I Need Is a Miracle

 

Okay so I'm a little drunk on well-being today. I went to see an amazing show (Not Mike and the Mechanics) with a friend last night and danced! With a whole bunch of superhappy people! Who didn't have masks on! Have faces always been this beautiful? Has joy?

Anyway, so this morning found me walking to the library belting out every song from my new pre-spring playlist. The best song to walk along singing was this one, which came back into my life via an absolutely transcendent needle drop in the movie Spencer.

Unsurprisingly, I Love the Clothing-Optional Beach, Part Three

We did get to bob around in the water with the poly meetup group, though they eventually got pulled away by the current. I don’t always know quite what to say, but I was glad to float and smile with them. I asked The Lady of the House if the beach is always this queer-friendly, and she explained that we were currently in the gay section, (the other side was the family section) so yeah. I oohed and aaaaaaaahed about getting to hug Sweetie in the water. did I really wait all this time to feel this way? What’s the MATTER with me?

The whole day was such a joy, and my worries about nipple-sunburn never materialized, staved off by lots of spray. (Big big thanks to the reader pal who suggested spray-on sunscreen how can I ever thank you?)

When we weren’t swimming, I lay on the blanket delighting in being exposed or sat up and people watched. It was similar to my first BDSM event because it gave me a chance to revel in the abundant variations of the human body. Sometimes we can get trapped in a simple schema of what a body should look like, a cookie-cutter frame built from TV and dumb fashion magazines, but the real diversity of bodies is so wonderful to behold. Every single person there, clothed or not, looked flushed, sun-kissed, relaxed. I am so grateful that people were generous enough to share their bodies with my happy eyeballs.

And then, of course, there’s being seen. After a while it dawned on me that I was surrounded by penises, that there were hundreds of men there, gay, straight, bi, poly, pan, omni, everything, and they could all look at me if they wanted to. YAY!  The point of this beach isn’t to get turned on, I don’t think (Guys, can you tell me how you avoid it? If I had a thingie it would have been sticking straight up for seven hours. I would have had to consult a physician.) but I got turned on. I struck a pose and when I noticed a guy looking, I’d meet his gaze and soak it up. I can’t believe I felt so free and safe. What a gift.

Of course I had to have some personal time in the car on the way home.

The next day, I cried a lot. I cried happy tears over how beautiful and generous everyone was, I cried sad tears for how long we’d waited to try it, for the sensations we’d missed until then. I cried lucky tears for feeling so accepted, and I cried wistful heartbroken tears for not getting to share the place with the Mayor of Kittentown. Sweetie held and patted me and told me I’m good. She assured me that we could go back soon and of course we’ve got it on the calendar.

As much of a revelation as it was to be there with Sweetie, I really want to find the right guy to go with, too. Well, I don’t want to find a new one, I want to go with MKT, but since that’s not possible, I put up a personal on the beach’s FetLife group under the heading of “Seeking a Nice Naked Guy.” Lo and behold, plenty of dudes would be glad to go with me. Their naked selves are more intimidating on the screen than they are in person (Maybe it’s the screen’s proximity to my face?) but once I take a few days to get over being overwhelmed by their responses, I look forward to making some new friends.

Sweetie and the Transcendent Thigh-Ropes!

Sweetie and I have embraced the pretty pink ropes and made them part of our regular sex routine. (No, the phrase “regular sex routine” doesn’t bother me; it just means we’ve so far avoided my biggest three-word fear: “lesbian bed death.”) I’m always delighted to stand in front of her, trying to distract her while she cooks up various arrangements of ropes. Lately, she’s taken to doing this naked, so all the better.

I had a dream Saturday night that she was concentrating the ropes on my thighs, so that’s what I asked her to do. Yesterday, after we went swimming and ate lunch in front of some Buffy episodes (I think Willow’s coming out episode makes her extra hot…) we got showered up and ready for ropes. She put the now-usual halter on me, with rope firmly on either side of my nipples for easy-fun pinching. Then she wove the ropes around each of my thighs, making a little decorative handle in front of each.

My thighs aren’t a part that I usually think about or concentrate on, except maybe during half-assed yoga, so they were soooo happy to have some attention. As I fell dreamily into bed and into Sweetie’s arms, I went a little more subby than I usually do with her. At home, usually the ropes make me fiery, switchy, animalistic, but this time, I was floating in a cloud. I became a cloud. 

As she played with me on top, rubbing and pinching my nipples between the ropes I while I pinched hers, (This is always the point at which I remember, jeez, we have to get this lady some nipple clamps. I’ll take recommendations!)  I pulled the thigh-handles back and forth, up and out. It made me wish that the phrase “opening up like a flower” weren’t corny and overused. The tug of the ropes on my inner thigh felt warm, vital, life-affirming. It gave me a deep sense of well-being, a pleasant yoga-like sensation. It also pulled me open wider. It’s hot as heck here so the fan was blowing on us, blowing onto my wetter and wetter and more and more yielding openings. It was a new kind of bliss.

And then she took hold of the handles, pulled me up towards her, up and down, up and down, a little bit like a swinging feeling, and then a total calm washed over and into me. It was like I was a parachute that had just opened and was floating down through the air gently, or I was a very happy jellyfish buoyed by a warm and loving sea. I was dissolved into happiness, closer to oneness with the universe than church or most other things have ever gotten me. (Note to self: keep not going to church. But that’s another post.)

Afterwards, when we were both relaxing with our books (beach book for me, Star Wars for her) and bowls of cereal, we talked about how cool it is that you can have this same body your whole life and still it keeps offering up surprises. I never would have guessed that my thighs could give me more than they already had. The best thing about this journey so far is the ways that my body has given me new gifts (If I’m ever brave enough, see the upcoming post entitled “Jeez, I Really Love My Butt.”) and has given Sweetie and me new ways to be close to each other. The word that keeps popping into my head is “miracle.”