A Tender Date, A Little Ghosting, Part Two

 

Rainbow Pal and I have decided that all weird dating things require a romantic French term!

There was a moment. I was toying with Thoughtful Guy’s dick through his underwear, just kind of nuzzling around down there, when he placed his arms around my shoulders in a soft embrace. A breeze of kindness blew all through me, an almost supernatural affection. Stillness. Peace.

He couldn’t stay late, he had to get home to his kiddo. As he started to get dressed, I wrapped up in my aqua-blue summer robe, feeling flushed and decadent and beautiful. “You look so good,” he said, with a little growl in his voice. He backed me up against the pillar on the pony wall of my loft, and kissed and kissed and kissed me.

He picked up his phone and said absently “Annnddd one of my partners is texting about making a date…” then went back to kissing me. When I finally, reluctantly got him out the door, I felt happy and hopeful, like my life might actually make sense! I’ll never stop believing in that feeling.

The next day, instead of feeling lonely and insecure, I felt grounded in my own life, sure I was cared for. But when I told him as much, he abruptly cut off the conversation and said he didn’t want to be keeping me up. I was up! I was working on my 2000-piece puzzle! It’s an intricate undersea scene! It was only like 10.

Oh, the little ghosting. When I texted in the morning to start planning our next date, his tone had changed. He said laughing emoji to the time I suggested, not whether it was too late or too early. He suggested a better night for our date, and I said sure. Then he left me on heart-reaction and disappeared.

By the time it was ten again, I hadn’t heard from him all day, and plans hung in the thread unfinished. The internet, always the most toxic, let me know he’d had time to change to an even-sexier profile picture while he was busy not texting me.

So I texted to suggest that we might not be a good match because our rhythms were off. I didn’t want to say goodbye, but I hate le petite fantôme. You liked me the day before yesterday, I wanted to say, then radio silence.

He texted back ALL the paragraphs (OH, the self-justifying man-paragraphs of polyamory. May I never again read them.) including “Do you know your attachment style? You seem insecure.”

First of all, I find attachment theory to be the most unhelpful therapy thing of all time, like oh, you weren’t loved properly as a baby and now you’re fucked up forever. What is anybody supposed to DO with this?!

I mean, misnamed Thoughtful Guy was probably right, but you don’t get to psychoanalyze me after ONE date, if ever! And you don’t get to make it my deep personal flaw when you mini-ghost instead of finishing a conversation.

I’m grateful to Summer Therapist and a lifetime of self esteem work that I got mad instead of accepting his assessment of me, instead of accommodating and building something new and cute and misery-making.

It was a fantasy that he could be boyfriend material while already having five partners. Like, who do I think I am, hoping that I wouldn’t slip his mind among all that beauty and tumult and day-to-day? Like so many precious darlings before him, he just wasn’t the right match. I miss him, but onward.

A Tender Date, A Little Ghosting, Part One

 

My date with Thoughtful Guy last Sunday was so lovely, even if the naming was a little premature. We met on my Favorite Woodland Trail. I instantly felt comfortable with him. By coincidence, we both wore pink. I saw a fellow hiker smiling to herself as she passed us. We were CUTE. I took the perfect selfie of us with the trail and bright trees and was sooooo excited that he’s out as poly and I could post it! Probably even tag him!

I had wondered if the trouble with past folks hadn’t been the poly at all, but the closet! This sweet connection seemed like a good way to find out.

Telling Rainbow Pal about him earlier in the week, I said “I listened to him talk about bringing his five partners home for Christmas. It kinda made me want to join him like a cult.”

(I’m not saying polyamory is a cult. I’m saying that there are tendencies there, just like there are with any ingroup that involves humans and our tender need to belong. I definitely have a culty relationship to poly. I’ll say more about that in Part Two.)

Since I’ve committed to the (Maybe long! Maybe futile! Definitely worth it!) quest for Actual Boyfriend Guy, I’m not sure why I swiped right on such a very poly character, but I absolutely could not resist the face. In a long text thread before the date, he said he was very concerned, rightfully so, that I was describing myself as “probably poly.” (And that was probably rounding up. Today I’m landing on the admittedly wishy-washy “monagamish.”) He didn’t just want to be a fling, he said. “Don’t worry,” I told him, “We’ve already flung.”

(Why are we talking like this before we even met in person? The word “lovebombing” has whispered through my brain all week, though I don’t think it’s fair. Attraction. Hope. Affinity. Fate?)

Back to us being cute on Favorite Trail, it was humid and buggy and I really wanted to take him home, so we didn’t walk far. Back at the trailhead, as we parted to go to our respective cars, I kissed him on the cheek and felt giddy and sexy and joyful.

Once I had him in my apartment, we kissed for real and it was perfect. A kiss like this is a miracle all on its own. A lifetime worth of goodness. Soft, wet, firm, emphatic. I was breathless.

“Okay, I’m ready to join your team,” I gushed. “Contact HR. Send me the packet. When is orientation?”

(I’m just gonna stop and notice that Thoughtful Guy shares a name with a famous cult leader. It’s not relevant, but it a little bit is.)

Upstairs, he was INTOXICATING. As we cuddled, kissed, grinded, looked for tickle spots, I went from swoon to swoon. I felt both urgent and stunned, an almost debilitating bliss. This guy. <3

He did a thing no other lover has ever done—he treated the fat at my waist as part of the hotness! He grabbed and kneaded and I groaned with delight and surprise. More of this please!

“Just lay there and be you,” he said, and I did. He was like a day at the beach and I lay there, we lay there, still and sunny.

Frilly Fridays: Last One in the Christmas Box!

 Well, there was one more frilly thing in the Christmas box, but it wasn't quite my style so I gave it to the Goodwill. Now the frillies are all hung up neatly, and the box can look forward to its life as a box to put Christmas stuff in.

This week was fun and a lot. Things didn't work out with the Thoughtful Guy, more paragraphs on that later. 

Another flirtation came and went this week too. These pictures are from a beautiful Saturday chat with a stranger who turned out, when face to face, to be Boring Guy.

Last night, I ended a SO BORING WhatsApp video call and felt a surge of joy. Partly it was the joy of not having to keep trying to make a conversation happen with Boring Guy ("I've asked all my questions." he kept saying. ALL of them?!) but there was a bigger joy too!

Going back to my puzzle, chatting with BFF, doing the dishes while listening to the MSNBC hosts talk about the Republican debate, I was just elated to be in my life. It's a good one, and I'm so proud of my quest for love.

Frilly Friday: Oh, Thoughtful Guy!

 

I’m not sure why anyone wants to date a lady who is doing a whole art project based mostly on Christmas presents from a beloved ex, but sometimes they do! Hooray!

Thoughtful Guy is Cuuuute. We haven’t had our first date yet (Sunday!) and he’s already asked about the second one.

When I turned the apps back on a few weeks ago, one of the guidelines I came up with alongside Summer Therapist was: LOOK FOR THE BANTER.

Heck yeah! Thoughtful Guy earned his name by being a wonderful texter. He’s full of information about his days and he asks deep questions (and regular questions) about me. He’s reading The Kitten Calendar, which I find equal parts touching and mortifying: SO many feelings! Oh well. He has a podcast, so it’s kinda fair.

He was my text company for Lingerie Night on Wednesday. It wasn’t a sexting session, just getting to know each other. It was vulnerable and bittersweet.

These Rihanna undies are the most heartache-inducing member of the frillies collection. That Christmastime date to the Fancy Garden, coming home to open presents, the shocking feeling of so many pleasures and pretty things all at once.

It’s a little sad that I can feel the forward motion away from TOS, the long and shaky process of letting him be in the past. It’s scary and sometimes I worry that I’m headed right back into heartbreak, that one wrong move could stumble me into a new tearful relationship and six long months of grief.

Also, I’m happy! Life is so cool right now and I wish TSO was here to cheer me on. I guess he is, in my heart, as long as I keep leaving him where he belongs—six moons ago and counting.

Thoughtful Guy just kept being thoughtful until it was time to sleep. He sent a selfie of him and his nesting partner that made my heart overflow with joy.

It’s almost Virgo Season, friends, and it’s time to be hopeful.