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.

Goodbye, Sweet Valentine

 

Sweetpea and a new tiara should arrive tomorrow!

Last night night, my break from Sweet Valentine progressed to break-off. We'd planned to meet for coffee this morning, but he blessedly, blessedly told me over the phone that he just wanted to be friends. I'm very, very grateful that I didn't have to cry in front of neighbors and scones.

At least I had the good sense to not disingenuously push myself into friendtown, thinking I could get his attention or change his mind that way--at least I've learned that one thing. Now I have two official wisdoms that I'm sure of:

1. Don't try to be just-friends with someone you still would like to kiss forever and ever.

2. Always get the concert tickets!

Letting myself be uncertain about him (And not trying to lobby for myself! That much!)for a whole month was really, really hard. I'm really, really proud that I did it. I also think I maybe should have let him go a month ago, but I still have a hard time untangling pattern recognition from intrusive thoughts. I think I read the room that Monday waiting for him to text me at the Fancy Garden, maybe that's why I panicked. I still wish I hadn't panicked.

He blamed me for it not working out, and I apologized so much. Today I woke up wanting to retract 75% of my sorries and really feeling like I'd thrown myself under the bus. This is partly because my Coda sponsor named him "Mr. Blamey"--I was feeling like a witchy slut who ruins everything and can't be loved until she said that. 

How did two beautiful, playful, FUN dates end with me slut-shaming myself? How could the person who'd looked at me like I was a miracle the moment we met and who seemed as all-in as anybody ever end up so cold and prickly? I guess you have to be cold and prickly when you're breaking things off with someone you still like. 

I'm so frustrated today because I did the thing again! I picked someone who didn't have room for me in his life and I spent a month thinking of ways to make myself less obtrusive, to fit into the sliver of space he might have had for me. I bent and folded my life like origami trying to make myself a right one for him. 

I picked another person who made me feel like Too Much because his life is full of chaos and I maybe helped him feel things that couldn't be controlled. Who took a swirl of cute-hot silliness and turned it into a problem to be solved. And then I turned me into a problem to be solved.

I think, as my OCD therapist likes to remind me, there's no problem to be solved here. There's no "right way" to do it that will save me from rejection and pain and loss. There's no answer or kiss or date on the calendar that he could have given me to shore up my worries. It was just a bad match.

He regrets the fastness of things, and I understand that, but I'm not going to blame the magic chemistry of those two dates for how things turned out. I'm not going to let loss and shame and one beautiful but kiss-shocked husband turn turn me against the Pink Haze, the swoon of my body knowing exactly what to do. 

I love the way our bodies (and pardon me, our souls) sparked together so quick and so thoroughly. I think it was meant to be, and important, and real. I understand why it scared him I think, why I scare him. I was a threat to his status quo. To really engage with what was happening between us, he would have had to change his life, and that IS scary! 

Being both a catalyst and a codependent, two more things that could use some untangling.

I'm really trying to get a handle on the solo poly chip on my shoulder, but I think a lot of opening-up couples have the fantasy that their partners will never need anything, that they will be lovely, frictionless treats instead of whole human beings. That's not the only thing that happened here, but it's one of them.

Today, I feel lost. My mind is a cacophony of advice from every dear person who supports and cares for me, plus lots of opportunistic OCD,  and right now that's drowning out my ability to hear myself think.

But last night, I did hear myself. As I was crying it through to BFF, I felt a little gust of well-being that said, "Huh. I think everything's working out." I hope that feeling returns soon. For now though, Sweetpea makes me feel seen:

Borrowed Grief in the Fancy Garden

 

"It's too late to change your mind

you let loss

be your guide."--Broken Bells

By the Monday after Valentine's Day, the city had been frozen for weeks. Ice on top of snow on top of ice, and the temperature was seldom higher than 20 degrees. I've been through fifty-one Februaries, and most of them seemed like they would never, ever end. I'd been trapped here learning to love myself with varying success. My brain imagined Guy Next Door having the most lighthearted and casual adventures while I worked my steps and did my therapy sessions. It was time to thaw. It was time for colors and light and alive smells. 

So BFF-Formerly-Sweetie and I planned a day at the Fancy Gardens, almost as an emergency. We were both excited to look at colors and I planned to flood the entire internet with flower pictures.

But BFF's back was out! She had a brace on and was walking with two canes instead of two. It broke my heart the way it always did when she was hurting and it also made me remember times when she'd been hurting and I'd been unkind. When I'd been heartless and impatient. I don't think I could ever forgive myself for the ways I've let my BFF down. Here I am, lucky enough to have someone to stand by me, to be my Emergency Contact. It's been twenty-five years (That gum you like is back in style.) of the deepest and most meaningful relationship of my life, and I still couldn't figure out how to *save* her or to at least make up for all the pain and neglect.

Her version might just be that her back hurt and we had a really lovely thawing day looking at flowers. But OCD and codependency had different interpretations for me.

There was another memory of The Fancy Garden around the edges of my (Nonetheless taking SO many pictures of flowers, do not worry!) 

fraught-feeling soul: The Shy One. On February 6th it was three years since he broke up with me. The week before that, I'd taken myself to the garden for winter emergency reasons, yes, but also just to listen to myself.

Things had been off between us since he got back from his trip home. He was colder and more elusive and I was kinda going crazy because he came home with "a little malaria" and I couldn't come tend to him, couldn't help "fix" the situation. And I was scared, because I'd never encountered malaria outside of novels. My imagination ran wild and I thought he was going to die. I mean, everyone's going to, but I really was afraid I he was on his way out.

(One time he told me it was like I knew he was going away soon, like I was trying to have the whole relationship at once. I've wished for years I could go back and be more present, more patient, more accepting, but I was what I was, and so was he. I don't wish like I used to that I could turn back time and do right by him, but I am TERRIFIED of making the same mistakes.)

Anyway, back to 2023 Fancy Garden. Texting flowers had been our thing, Shy One and I, but though he had recovered he was still being snappish and uncommunicative. I remember looking at a shot I took, a semi-lewd close-up of a fiery orange amaryllis, with bitterness in my heart, like, if he's not going to say more than "good morning" with no emoji, I'm not sending him one more piece of art he doesn't care about.

Back in 2026, with the glass-warmed sun shining on me and so many different purples to look at,I was also in the middle of making third-date plans with Sweet Valentine and he was Not Texting Back. And OCD was telling me it was Shy One all over again, that I was making the same stupid mistake. I felt one of my deepest fears: What if I can ONLY be drawn to people who really aren't drawn to me,  who don't text me back, who don't need me for anything at all.

(They tell me in Codependents Anonymous that I can be loved without being needed, and I totally feel that sometimes! But not on this particular day.)

(I know from my OCD support groups that texting is one of the hardest things for those of us with Relationship OCD to handle. I'm definitely the only neurospicy hottie who regularly wants to fling her phone into the sea.)

(Back in 2001 when BFF-Formerly-Sweetie and I were getting together, it was the red light on the answering machine that used to vex me! But there weren't so many other things to check so the madness of it was less maddening.)

We had a beautiful day at the gardens. BFF was glad she came, if still hurty. I still very much wanted her hurt to stop. I've always been more emotionally fragile than she is, but her physical fragility is so hard to handle. I can't help but flash forward to a day when I'll be without her, when I'll SOMEHOW have to figure life out without her. I hope that's in a long, LONG time but sometimes, it seems like it's already here.

I cried a lot of the way home; good, productive tears.

It turns out I wasn't OCDing about Sweet Valentine's quiet, or not JUST OCDing. I was kinda reading the room. He'd been wondering if he couldn't live up to all his obligations and still be poly. He wanted us to slow down so he could listen to himself about what he really wants, what he's really capable of.

That is actually so lovely! But friends, I melted down. All the griefs of the day and of the years came out in a tangle to this already-overwhelmed-but-extremely lovely man with a life just as big and messy as mine. After two dates, I would like to have preserved more mystery, but he heard me about two-thirds of the way to my worst.

But he stayed in the conversation and had the conflict with me. I still felt a warm soul-connection to him and he SOMEHOW still liked me, even after I got so tangled. So that's why the month break, which has a little more than two weeks left. Most days, I feel carried and faithful about this, like I can trust both of us to listen to ourselves, to do what we really want. I trust, if he comes back to me, that it'll mean that's what he really wants. I think I already know what I really want, but who knows how two more weeks will change me?

That night when we were agreeing to the break, I told him I hope our respective Totoros will take us just where we need to go. He said he loves Totoro, because of course he does.

So if you want to know how this story will turn out, here's the only person who knows:

Knotty Thursday: Mermaid of Lowkey Pining

 

Good morning sunbeams! Last night was so lovely, I just got all cozy and confined and read some books in bed. I love the ritual of making this time for myself--lighting candles and burning rose incense. Not even music this time, just me and the ropes.

I didn't feel like looking anything up, but this felt like a good way to keep practicing my chain stitch. And! I can do an alpine loop without looking it up now! For the most part! Somewhat-daily knot practice is paying off.

I still miss Sweet Valentine so much, it's hard not to rehearse for rejection or reach out and try to get his attention. Giving us both space to reflect is kind and loving, but I hate it and wish it could be over already. I hate living in uncertainty, but it's very good for me to practice. I guess if my heart misses him all month long, that's some information for me.

I have the dating apps paused for now too--not because I'm waiting for him (I'm kind of waiting for him.) but because I don't want to do the addictiony thing of trying to "fix" one set of feelings with another. I want to be present with myself and feel all the things! Mostly I want to feel trust and self-love. Sometimes I even feel serene.

Lastly guess what! I ordered longer, goddess-sized ropes! They're turquoise and should arrive on Friday! I can't believe it's taken me this long to realize it would be nice to have bigger ropes for my great big body! That feels like love.

Sweet Valentine, Part Five: Princess of Saying Stuff

 Last night I was in an online Codependents Anonymous meeting with a handful of strangers and we were talking about the feeling of floating, the moments when it feels like Higher Power has us and we can just cruise along and accept the gifts. I admitted that lately, when I'm in that good floaty place is when I tend to make my love mistakes. But then I realized! Maybe they weren't mistakes! Maybe my soul knows what it's doing and I don't understand it yet! 

For now, I'm not going to try and understand it. I'm just gonna celebrate Sweet Valentine and hope for the best.

The night before Valentine's Day, I went to the little shop down the block to get roses and vegan cupcakes for my new dear. I hoped he would bring presents, but I wanted to make sure presents were there. One thing I'm extremely certain about is that such a cute connection deserved to be celebrated.

On Saturday mornings, I'm usually playing games and listening to The Flop House, so that's what I did. I told him to text when he was on his way, that the door was unlocked. I felt both like a human and like a fantasy, made of something between bones and lace. When I was younger and more pretentious, I used to describe myself as diaphanous, and that kinda works here--grounded and floating. See-through and also (maybe a little too) real.

I was working away on my Animal Crossing island when he arrived, smelling of him. He came right into bed and we kissed and cuddled, folded into each other like he'd been there all along. "I missed you before I met you, " I said. Princess of saying stuff.

(I forgot to tell you about a moment from our Wednesday date, when I told him he had some of my purple face glitter on him, and he rubbed his face against mine to get more, like he wanted to cover himself in me. I felt exactly the way a sentient cupcake might feel when it's getting devoured with gusto. In the wise words of Lizzo, Lick the icing off, put the rest in your face.)

There's something about his presence that hooks me in at the middle, at the crux of my being. He makes me feel safe and seen, like he has me. I felt like I could relax and be myself and not second-guess every move I made. Really, there didn't need to be much thinking at all, just wise and beautiful bodies carrying us through the day. 

When he was wrapped around me, I felt home. When I was kneeling in my cozy bow-down-to-Love-Itself spot looking up at him sitting on my bed, I felt tiny and treasured. He called me Princess, and I felt him mean it. I asked him to be my boyfriend, and after clarifying what that would entail, he agreed. I felt absolutely confident asking, but from a couple weeks away, it feels insane. 

Friends, I miss him so, so much. I'm giving him time and space to figure things out, giving myself time and space to see what I really want. There's three more weeks left of that time and right now, here's how I feel:

I will be so, so sad if I don't get to keep getting to know him, but I want to give him the space I promised. For myself, I want to keep heartspace for partners with more time, more surety, more bandwidth, but right now, I just want him. I want a chance to start over and take our time, to step back into the flow of him, to someday be part of his life. I want to take walks and hold hands.

I know I'm usually more explicit with the sex part, but for right now I want to keep it to myself, and for him. 

Sweet Valentine, Part Four: Between Two Dates

 

How would anyone understand things without Mary Oliver?

Like a lot of people with Relationship OCD and probably non-divergent daters as well, I struggle with the time between the first date and the second. The uncertainty is hard, yes, but my brain always wants to rehearse for the eventual ghosting or other kind of rejection. I have to be ready to say goodbye perfectly, because if I don't, I feel shame. To react anything less than magnanimously to rejection feels like a violation of consent, like I'm impinging on the person's bodily autonomy. As with many things, OCD makes fraught things fraughter, and I would like it to please pipe down.

I had no hesitation about asking him out for Valentine's morning though, it just felt right! Like, we're both cute and horny and full of spiritual love, why not do the traditional Valentine things? We deserve it!

But then. The plan-making process. The waiting-to-hear-back! I started to wonder if I'd sabotaged our chances by picking such a pressureful day. Maybe I did! Or maybe our chances are just what they are. 

As soon as the plan was made, the time was chosen, I felt like going all in. I felt like Aphrodite in my Valentine's Eve dress at school. I was g l o w i n g with hope, joy, and confidence. I even thanked Blue Ribbon Work Crush for being the greatest work crush of all time--going on three years! We had a little whirlwind of cute before going back to our normal high fives and safe little flirts.

I worried that Sweet Valentine would think I was cliche if he showed up and I was in red lingerie with a bouquet of multicolored roses and some chocolate cupcakes, but also, this is our one and only life, and it was Valentine's Day. It might have artificially raised the stakes, but I wouldn't trade that morning-to-afternoon for anything in this world. But if crashing into each other like waves made it so I wouldn't get to keep getting to know him, I'm sorry about it too.

It feels painful to think of writing about the sweetness and hotness and rightness of that day, not knowing what will become of him and me, not knowing where this break-to-reflect will take us. But I'll write it in good hot faith when I'm ready, I promise. 

Sweet Valentine, Part Three: The Ropes Really Like Him and I Do Too!

OMG how did he get so beautiful?!

As I sit down to type this, I feel half "we went too fast and I lost my chance to truly get to know him" and half "whoa our bodies (and souls?!) really knew what they were doing that Wednesday morning after yoga!" Since I can't fully understand what it means, I'll focus on how it felt, which was unequivocally, dizzily wonderful.

Putting the ropes on Sweet Valentine, I didn't really feel like a Ma'am. Part of the appeal of this connection was how evenly matched we are in some ways. He IS a sweet precious baby boy, but he's also a man with a real, full life and a big stake in his/our community. AND he's in therapy?! So hot.

It's hard to latch onto details because the morning was such a blur of joy and release--I felt both very present AND in a fog. The Pink Haze, my name for the way horniness steers the ship in the right direction sometimes, was in full effect.

His shoulders are made of the most beautiful triangles in existence. His body reminds me of the Greek hall at the Met, so perfectly carved by nature and light. I felt perfectly carved by nature and light too! The sun was shining directly into my body, heart, and soul.

And I felt secure, like all of me was in such safe hands. Dad vibes I guess, or just his open and beautiful attention. Maybe both. My word for the year is trust and on this day I felt like I was living it.

I found out later (or maybe he told me at the coffeeshop and I just missed it) that this was his First Ever Poly Date!!! Not the first one he made plans with, but the first not-his-wife lady he kissed since they started their adventure. I wish I'd taken this into account, asked him questions deeper than "Are the ropes pinching anywhere?" and "Am I doing a good job?"

Or maybe it's better that the ropes and our bodies did most of the talking? Praise flew out of my face like it always does. And much as I get vexed by the just saying stuff aspect of dating, boy did I say stuff. Such as:

"When I put the ropes on you, that means you're mine. And when I take them off...you're still mine."

The kissing and the sex both felt like we were trying to meld into one body, one spirit, not tangled but interwoven. Bound but free. Grounded and kind.

No wonder I've been feeling such floods of emotion following our (first?) two dates--having my needs met so thoroughly and kindly is BEAUTIFUL and also so big that it freaks me the fuck out a little. That be not afraid feeling of encountering angels.

Not that day though. All I felt when he left that afternoon was:

1. THANK GOD The Guy Next Door didn't kiss me!! What if I'd gotten distracted by his mess and MISSED THIS?! Sometimes it's so clear that Love Itself is looking out for me.

2. Sweet Valentine is someone really special to me.

3. This is the kindness I deserve. I hope he feels that way too. He deserves every single happiness in the world, such a precious sweet baby soul.

I spent most of the day in bed, napping/glowing/napping/glowing. I felt peaceful and fulfilled and happy. I knew OCD would chime in with the thoughts soon enough, but that day found me with a quiet brain and a full heart--a miracle just as it was.

Knotty Thursday: Yay Alpine Loop!

 

Last night I wanted to get my ropes done a little early because I had a phone call with my brand new Codependents Anonymous sponsor! That went really fruitfully and so did this!

I found good instructions on how to make the Alpine Loop!  Laying it flat instead of looping it over my hand made it easier to see what was going on--it made it make sense! Originally I had planned to just practice the knot, but I started to understand how to do the chain stitch corset I was working on the other week! This is a very rough draft, but I'm getting somewhere!

Rope night felt lonely though! When I tried this corset the other week, (soon to be) Sweet Valentine was texting me throughout the process, and I really, really liked his company. And last week! The beautiful miracle of his kisses, the way my simple Hishi Karada glowed magenta against his skin. The smell of him in my bed. The tide of desire taking us to exactly where we needed to go. Trust and my heart opening up like a flower.

It was a good sort of lonely last night though, a healthy kind. I didn't want to paper over the feelings with drama or torture myself with comparison. I just felt it. I miss him.

Also!! I need longer ropes! Things would be so pretty with less stopping to add length! 

Sweet Valentine Part Two: The Way He Kissed Me Makes Me Wish I Were Still a Poet

 

Currently, Sweet Valentine and I are on a pause, taking stock of things. I need time and space to feel some griefs and manage some OCD/codependency stuff, and he needs time to think about what he really wants and can offer. Usually I would just let someone go at this point, good old "If it's a maybe then it's a no." from Cuddle Party rules. But I didn't want to let him go. I asked if we could be in touch in a month and see where we're at, and he agreed. I don't know if that decision is hopeful or just avoiding the inevitable, but I really, REALLY hope I get to kiss him again.

Back to the perfect coffee date. When it felt like we were wrapping up at the coffeeshop, I said "Well, should we take it slow and say goodbye here, or should we go to my place?"

He picked coming over, hooray hooray!

This all felt easy and natural in a way that's rare for me! Letting chemistry carry us forward like a slutty and helpful wind. No overthinking, no negotiations, just him on my couch. <3 <3 <3 Just pouring ourselves into each other.

He may not, in the course of the processings and ponderings, turn out to be the right one for me, but we kissed like we were absolutely meant for each other. His mouth tasted of nothing but mouth. He didn't mind when I bit his lip. Our tongues slid together and apart and around and across. His beard skritched and sanded my face in the most satisfying and life-affirming way.

It's hard to believe something so beautifully transcendent could happen on an ordinary Wednesday morning, in the middle of my ordinary couch nest. Surrounded by books and blankets and Squishmallows, with Younger Cat nosing her way in with typical comic timing. Home. Magic. Peace.

Sweet Valentine, Part One: The Perfect Coffee Date

 

Every once in a while, there's just a transcendently good date. In this story, there are two! 

I planned our first date for right after yoga, maybe that's why the vibes were so easy and flowy. He sat down beside me and there was instant cozy chemistry. He gazed at me and said "I'm just looking at your face." I put my head on his shoulder. I asked him if I could kiss him on the cheek and he said yes.

Oh friends! The talking was so good. We had so much in common spiritually, both grounded and floaty at the same time. Our separate lives felt like puzzle pieces clicking into place. I wanted to tell him every single thing and he was share-y too, an avalanche of getting-to-know-you. No small talk, just big talk. Home, safety, joy.

He has long, beautiful musician hands, and they were holding mine. We kissed right there in front of the vegan scones. The kiss was at the far edge of chaste, and it was JUST RIGHT. 

"You're in," I said, with the biggest smile. In that moment, he felt absolutely meant for me! And, just for that moment, he was.

He knew I was still tender from Christmastime stuff, and I sort of meant to take this slow. But when I asked, "Should we take it slow and leave it here or should I just take you home?" He chose coming over. I'm so glad he did but I'm also wondering what would have happened if we'd left it there instead of having the most beautiful/sweet/hot morning and early afternoon.