I'm waiting by the phone....

Not really. That would imply that the phone wasn't mobile. But I really wanted Joshua to call last night or the night before and he didn't. And part of me is like: "well, duh, Connie. He's with his family." But he managed to call me on Christmas evening. But he's Jewish, so that doesn't really mean anything to him, although it means something to me. The other side of me is like: "Well duh, Connie. He's just not that into you." And, of course, only time will tell.

There's this video game called "The Sims." And in it, you make friends, but each day you don't see someone, you lose 2 of your 'friend' points. I think that is a very female-centered view of how relationships work. I totally feel that--when I don't have contact with someone, I start to lose my connection with that person. But my male friends don't seem to operate that way. I think for men, absence is more likely to make the heart grow fonder. Until it doesn't.

I know the conceit with Joshua is that it is about what pleases him. I also know that Joshua knows that if the overall relationship doesn't work for me, it won't work. And he seems very aware of what works, so I don't think it was just a sense of not thinking. I really think either something was up with his family, or he isn't into me any more.

I texted Joshua yesterday to basically say: "hi--love to chat if you have time" and he didn't reply. (But we are in different time zones, and it is entirely possible he was already asleep.) And the gal who knows all 'the rules' (not the D/s rules--the make-a-guy-want-you rules) knows that is a major mistake. But I also know that if I can't get what I want from a relationship, I'm going to leave. I wanted to talk to Joshua before I left for Europe. It's fine it didn't happen. But I am disappointed. And feeling a little needy and a little like a 1950s gal in the age before answering machines.

Feeling bratty

I really wanted Joshua to call me tonight. Tonight and tomorrow are the last nights we can talk for a few weeks (I'm going to be in Europe for a month, and it is just too expensive to talk on the phone. I have my own room tonight, so we could skype, but then it is back to sharing with a friend.) And he was on CollarMe tonight. I don't tell him I really want to talk to him--I don't have anything to talk about. I just want to talk to him. My youngish side wants to feel cherished and directed and my public woman wants to be recognized and have angst assuaged.

Speaking of having angst assuaged--can I really be considering this? My grandmother had a relationship where the man was always right, and he got Alzheimer's and they both ended up having financial problems because she always deferred to him. My mother and father fight over little stuff that could be dealt with, I suppose, if he was more cherishing of her and she was more deferential, but I don't know. I don't know what I'm thinking. Or not thinking.

I think I'm more into him than he's into me. And yet he does seem pretty into me. I've blown off all but one of the men I was talking with. The last one, I don't know what to do with. He and I already met, so it would be clear that I'd picked Joshua over him. And I thought he'd fizzle on interest with me gone. But he e-mails me more than Joshua, and he'd call if I hadn't asked him not to. (Joshua is much more of a phone person than an e-mail person. He's an OK e-mail on CollarMe, but now that we're on real e-mail and he uses his iphone, he sends like 3 word e-mails. I want something more!!!!)

And yet, I want to be not insane or demanding or needy or annoying. So I keep those parts of me to myself and I just feel really bratty. But there's something else--I want him to want me, and I think men are more interested in women that are harder to get. I try not to play games, but at the same time, I do have a life, and what is playing games except pretending to have a life. But I somehow feel that if I were to call him (and I wouldn't, even if he wasn't with his family right now), then I would be less interesting. Less desirable. Fundamentally, I don't think that, deep down, just Connie, is good enough.

Christmas Odds and Ends

Went shopping with my mother today and she bought me a new pair of jeans. A size 10 pair of jeans. Size 10!!! (All I can say is sizes have become much more generous than they used to be. But even so!!! Now I understand how a friend who I thought was a size 12 or so actually wears and 8.) I'm really pleased. It is kind of amazing to me. I think a size 8 has been my goals since I was in the 8th grade or so. I don't think these jeans count (maybe they are a size 12, if they weren't sized for super-sized egos), but it is pretty damn clear that I'm doing many things right.

My dad wants me to stand up for myself better. Wants me to tell my boss to fuck off. Yeah, that's not going to happen. However, a family member is driving me crazy, and my dad is taking my side unambiguously (as is my mother) and my dad has agreed to talk to this family member for me because, after nagging me to tell this family member to fuck off and me being unable to comply, he is standing up for me. Which is lovely.

Interestingly, he said to me that feminism is just in my core DNA. The idea that men and women are equal is just something I take so completely for granted I don't even think about it. I really don't know how true that is. I think he would be absolutely shocked if he knew I was contemplating not just S&M, but this D/s that I'm considering.

Can I even keep this blog if I go into this? I mean, of course, I will, to the extent that I blog at all. I believe deep down that feminism is about honoring the choices that women make when they are given full choice, without financial or societal coercion, which I certainly am. And honoring women's choices includes, I suppose, honoring my choice. That is the hardest one of all. Well, mine and Sarah Palin's. But she's insane.

I want to have a long sit-down with Joshua, preferably before we like sleep together or anything, and talk with him about how he would want to deal with differences when he had them. If, for example, we decided to try and make this really work, could we really sit down, as equals, and talk about the pros and cons of Olympia versus Seattle? I just don't think I'd do well being ordered to move to Olympia. (OK, he doesn't live in Olympia--names have been changed--he actually lives in a town that I find a little less appealing than Olympia and a little longer commute from Seattle.) I would have to have a conversation of two equal people working through something like that and finding a way to make it work. I'm not saying I wouldn't ever leave Seattle, but I really would want to make those decisions together.

I don't know how to bring this up without freaking him out--it is pretty crazy that my concerns about this relationship are such huge 'what ifs' that involve us being rather serious about each other. But he did ask me what I thought my parents would think of him. So clearly he has a few longer-term ideas as well. I keep wishing he'd call more often and knowing he can't. The less I talk to him, though, the more my mind gets scared about where this is going. When we talk, I'm less frenetic.

I think the young girl (we'll call her yg), yearning for a sir, is delighted. And the polished woman, taking on the world, is terrified (we'll call her PW). (And part of me wonders if John and Steve hadn't been so articulate about describing their impressions of me, if I would still see myself in that way. I've actually used this construct in talking to Joshua and I think he thinks it makes sense for how he has encountered me. But at one point does description become proscriptive?) PW is willing to trust--who? Joshua? Me? I'm not sure. But PW seems willing to trust Joshua enough to get together again. But she isn't ready to sleep with him. However, Joshua has met both polished woman and young girl (although he seems more interested in yg, he definitely wanted to make sure pw existed--in fact, I don't think he'd be interested in yg without pw). But Joshua seems to respect Polished Woman. And he says: "Hey--PW--if you follow me--I'll help you accomplish what you want Constance to accomplish." The fact that he's seen and respected PW makes it easier for her to trust a bit. But PW isn't ready for anything that would say, gasp, leave me emotionally vulnerable.

Young girl sure as heck is, though!

Externalizing Judgment

I seem to have a long history of assuming those in authority would not approve of me if they knew who I really was. (I should also say that the feeling of not fitting in goes back to the bullying I received in the first grade; those feelings may be linked.)

For a brief period of time, I worked with a fairly prominent professional feminist. I knew that she had kinky lesbian friends, but I have always assumed that if she knew about me, she would be mortified. Of course, I never asked her. I assumed that the authority figure would not approve of who I was. I do that with a lot more than feminism. I do it with any form of fun that is not physically active. Reading books that aren't Tolstoy, for example, seems like something shameful. Hell--I was really embarrassed at my exercise class when the teacher pointed out that I was breathing correctly during an exercise when other peopel were holding their breaths because I felt like I was breathing too much! I actually had a long period when I would sneak breaths at yoga class, and felt like a little kid sneaking food she knows she shouldn't have.

I was raised with discipline, but nothing like what I've internalized. There were a few crazy moments--my father tried to get me to use less lip balm at one point because he felt like it was excessive, and when my lips get really chapped, I will want to just buy another things of lipbalm if I don't have any. There was an emphasis on highbrow entertainment (we didn't have a tv and weren't allowed to watch tv). Molly Ivins then (and Gail Collins now) are too frivolous--I should be reading Krugman's blog (which I honestly find a little boring sometimes). But nothing like as crazy as I've gotten, not with my actions but with my judgement of my actions.

Joshua and I talked through my goals for my vacation, but when I was packing, I packed two books for fun reading as well. And I felt guilty. Now, nowhere did he say or imply or hint that I shouldn't have fun on my vacation. Nowhere. But somehow or other, I get it in my head that if I'm being a 'good girl' there's no place for me to enjoy myself as well as be productive. I didn't call him and ask for permission to read books for fun because a) it seemed psycho; b) it seemed overly needy and c) no one ever implied that it would be a problem. I did say that less time with media was a goal for my vacation, but media for me isn't books. (An hour reading a book gives me very different energy than an hour surfing the web--I want to read for fun more--I like how it makes me feel.)

So I think that in order for me to actually be able to have realistic ideas for any sort of D/s relationship, I might have to have realistic ideas about what I expect from myself. Of course, maybe part of the reason I am open to something like this is that it obviates my need to stop being so damn judgemental of myself, if I simply allow someone else to make those judgements.
I'm beginning to wonder

Connie's Freakout, part 2

So, I'm freaking out again about Joshua. And here's the thing--right now it is hot. Very hot. But what if in 5 years, it isn't so hot to be bossed around. What if, instead of making me wet, it makes me weary. What if I resent not being an equal? What if things just feel out of balance and I understand viscerally all the hard-won lessons the feminists of the 60s and 70s won for us? What if big things happened (like say, worst case scenario I could imagine: I got pregnant and found out the baby had Down's syndrome) and we were at loggerheads and he was right because he was in charge? Ceding authoring over sex is hot. Him supporting me in my already established goals is a gift. But where does it become a feeling of subjugation?

And yet, as Joshua might say, "How's that working out for you?"

I like pleasing. That's been in my DNA for a very, very long time. I don't think that's going anywhere. I think, as long as he appreciated it, I could cede control on day-to-day stuff. But not on big stuff.

And I think if I were to bring this fear to Joshua, if he didn't freak out that I'm thinking long-term and have only known him a brief period of time, he might say something like: "What, Connie, you don't feel like you can completely trust me to make every decision for you for the rest of your life after some, albeit, quite intense phone conversations and a total of 12 hours together? I'm shocked!"

I also think he would say that he thinks my needs are as important as his, and it is his job as a Dominant to make sure my needs are met, albeit not necessarily in the way or time I think they should be. It is my job to trust and his job to meet that trust. I think that's what he would say. And I would say, his actions, at least so far, have shown that he would want to make sure my needs were met at a hypothetical point in the future. I do think he is wise, and some of the places he has set clear limits on the time he has for me are ways that make me respect him more (like not talking to me on the phone when he and his ex-wife are in the same house).

It isn't that I think he and I are necessarily going to spend the rest of our lives together. But I think there is a possiblity for something wonderful and I have been systematically dismissing the other men I've been talking to who might have been romantic prospects. (He didn't ask me to, but he sort of hinted that I could.) But I just started freaking out over what would something like this mean down the road? I am, I should say, less freaked out now that I've sort of talked through it in writing. Having a blog is, I think, a perfectly adequate (and much cheaper!) alternative for therapy.

Perfectionism

So, I figured out what has me so freaked out (or at least one of the things) about "Joshua." Unlike every other man I've ever been with in a kinky setting, he asks what I want to accomplish, and he wants to support me in that. He seems to think that I'm a competent person with my own goals in the world and he would include that in our D/s. But, here's the thing: I'm a perfectionist with myself. Nothing I have done is beyond reproach. No matter what I do, unless something is absolutely perfect, I criticize myself. And that includes numerous things that I can't control: "Oh, I'm so sorry it is so cold today--if I'd known the weather when I got us these difficult tickets to get that you wanted see I would have..." I would have what? Changed the date of the concert? Driven more to hope global warming kicks in faster?

Really, the depth of my hubris when it comes to what I feel bad about is rather shocking. I still blame myself for Dean losing Iowa because if only I'd flown out earlier to volunteer, it all would have been much different. (Let's not even discuss how badly I feel about not volunteering much for the 2000 election. Let me also apologize to all of you right now for the financial meltdown. I knew something was fishy by 2004 because the ratio of renting to buying was so off historic values, and I sold my house at the peak, but I should have done a better job warning you, of course I didn't know you and didn't have a blog, not that you'd take economic advice from me, but none-the-less, I really should have tried harder. And while we're at it, let me apologize to any women younger than me for not ending all sexism in our society for you.)

In my kinky relationships in the past, I haven't apologized for disobeying, because I just don't disobey. I have made mistakes (for which I've apologized, and been punished for--one man didn't want me to mention Bush's name, and we met on Democratic singles and he'd talk politics with me and I'd slip; that was mostly playful). But mostly I apologize for my failure to a) read minds; b) control all those things that can't be controlled (I'm so sorry there were ants at the picnic--I should have thought of that and exterminated the woods before we planned our picnic); and c) predict the future. If anything is wrong in your world while I am a part of it, I will feel bad. (I still feel guilty that my dad's doctor misdiagnosed the cancer and I asked him to get a second opinion, but didn't freak out.)

I think part of the thing that I do appreciate with D/s is not having to live up to my own standards, which are pretty darn impossible. I would never expect other people to live by my standards--I'm pretty generous, I think, with the people in my life. I just need someone else to teach me how to be generous with me.

Which brings me back to my current fear. If Joshua actually expects me to live by my expectations for myself, well, I don't think I can. I don't think anyone could live up to my expectations for myself. Have someone else define good (not good enough because I can never seem to be happy with good enough) is a wonderful gift. I want to be pushed, somewhat. I also want to be given permission to say "Connie--you did a good job." I want to learn how to be happy with what I do, and I always feel like I do that better through someone else's eyes.

Sometimes D/s feeds my perfectionism and sometimes it releases it. I will talk to Joshua about this. At some point. When he asks if there's anything I've been thinking about. He's super busy right now. He values open and complete communication, but it tends to be mostly about how I'm feeling in that moment, which is good--I feel so neurotic with some of this stuff, and when he always asks how I feel, I think it makes me feel like I seem really neurotic. But I'm probably no more than most women. Or maybe I am more open about it because I analyze it all so much.

The Precipice

There's a scene that I don't really remember well from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where he has to walk on something he can't see and he throws stones and sees that the invisible structure does exist and runs over the precipice. It must have been terrifying.

I feel like I might be at such a precipice; I'm terrified.

Joshua called again. So sweet and generous and he really understands me in many ways, and he seems to believe that this is about both of us having our needs met. He said several things that indicate he gets me in ways I don't even want to admit. I'm going to be travelling for the next month, and he said he was going to give me assignments to do while I'm gone, to really think through where I'm at. I see pebbles telling me that there is a structure there that could support me. Joshua is offering me what I thought I wanted. A little more structured--OK, a lot more structured. But nevertheless, pretty much the "Patrick-Swayze-in-Dirty-Dancing-platonic-ideal-of-a-man-in-BDSM form." Did I mention he is quite handsome? And stronger than me, which believe it or not has been an issue in the past? I really like being able to be physical overpowered. And he seems to really like me. He said I was gorgeous! Naturally, I'm utterly terrified.

Last summer, after dad's cancer, I turned into a total couch potato. I don't mind. Hanging out with my dad and watching movies and supporting him (and seeing him get better) was everything I could have wanted for that summer. But once he was better, I didn't go back to where I was. My butt started to develop roots into the couch. And this year, I really made the changes to not be a couch potato. I am in SO much better shape than I've probably been in for 13 years. But I see the appeal of couch potatodom. I really get why that is nice. I'm glad I'm being more active, and overall, my life is much richer for it. But if 7 months ago, someone had said: "Constance, you must do all these things" it would have been terrifying. I'd be like: "but, I like sleeping in in the mornings? How could you take that away from me? I need that?" I wouldn't go back t where I was, but it was a series of hard, but small changes.

And I feel like Joshua will expect me to live to my full potential every day, and that is pretty fucking terrifying. For the last 9 years, really, I haven't. Somehow, or other, I had good internal discipline for professional things until September 11th, and something just broke on that day. Something just went a little dark. Something just went. And I went on anti-depressants and tried to pick up the pieces, but all the king's horses and all the king's men....

So here is a man who seems to like me. Who seems to care. Who wants me to obey him, but is willing to have that include obeying him to accomplish what I always thought I wanted and wasn't doing. And I trust him--he seems wise. He seems to have good judgement. He seems clear about where this would go in a healthy way that would leave me bouncier in the long run.

But what if I'd rather not finish anything? What if I finish all my projects and find out I'm really, deeply mediocre? What if that was a defense mechanism to cover the inherent mediocrity of my life, my writing, my creativity?

And on the other hand, what if it is great, and then I want autonomy? What if our values clash on something big? What if I feel stifled? What if it makes my neuroses more neurotic? What if I keep trying to prove I'm lovable, and nothing every proves it because you can't earn lovability. What if deep down, I really just want to be loved for me? To offer to do something for someone, to offer to prove myself and he might say: "but you don't have to prove or do anything! Just be you!" But then, as Joshua might say, 'how's that working out for you so far?'

I did tell Joshua I have a blog, and I told him I'd rather not give him the URL. He hasn't pushed me yet, but I expect that is only a matter of time. I'm even scared to have him read this. I wanted to go out and edit my life--make it a little more polished. Take away some of the rough edges. But I know that would be a form of lying (not that I won't rewrite poorly written things whenever I find them.) Or maybe I'm more scared to give him the URL and have him be bored with it. I think much of what went wrong with John (aside from the fact he was dying) was the he stopped reading my blog, but didn't tell me, and so I assumed he knew things that he claims he didn't know. (I don't think it was because he was bored--I think it was because he wanted to give me a private space, but he never communicated that to me.) But there were also times I told him things explicitly and he wouldn't remember, so maybe that is "don't date a guy who's brain is shutting down before he dies an early death" and not "don't tell anyone you have a blog." But so much scares me right now!

Joshua has made it really clear that he will support me on any of my projects. Wow! But I haven't told him I'm trying to lose weight. (I lost 20 pounds this year! Woo hoo!) He asked what my goal was for exercise and I said "to be cute," which is true. I mean, I'm doing a triathlon this summer, but it's not an Iron Man. It's just a 1500 KM swim, 17 mile bike ride and 5 mile run. If I was willing to buy a wet suit, I could do it today--it isn't like I need to train for it, although I am training for the sake of training. But I feel like if he tried to support me on losing weight, it could mess all both my ability to lose weight right now and it would mess up our relationship. I think part of the reason I'm able to lose weight right now is how loving I'm being with my food. I'm losing weight REALLY slowly (about 2 pounds a month), but I'm doing it! If he wanted something that was still really reasonable, like a pound a month, which I would love to do but don't know how, I'm scared it would bring back rebellion from my childhood and all that stuff. I've never been this in control of my eating in a joyous and playful way. I have tried my entire life to be at the point I'm at right now with food. But I think my regular treats are super-important for staying with my current success. I feel like if I pushed it, I could totally lose it (as I have in the past).

But even more important, I can't feel like he couldn't be with me, as I am right now. I want two mutually exclusive things: to try and be whatever he wants me to be, and to be loved for exactly who I happen to be. It seems an impossible circle to square. And that might be the crux of my fear.

Not Being Needy

So earlier today I wrote this:

I have a cat that is always begging for attention. I love her dearly, but it kind of drives me crazy just how needy she is. It is an insatiable longing to be constantly held, petted, brushed, loved. In the last year, I've come to believe that I have this cat to teach me it is OK to ask for love. She still drives me crazy, but I'm trying to have some empathy for her neediness.

I hide my neediness. Completely. My persona is an autonomous and complete woman--hear me roar! There are times, I'm a little shocked at how needy I would be if I allowed myself to act as I feel. I hid my profile on CollarMe yesterday, and yesterday I was fine. But yesterday I woke up in "Joshua's" arms and we talked on the phone several times. (Joshua has spoiled me with an amazing amount of attention, but we are both actually interesting people with lives. He wanted to talk more than I could yesterday. I want to talk more than he can today.)

But today-------well Joshua is crazy busy (and will be not available for the next couple of weeks due to holiday plans). My life is hectic, but no male attention for a day? Joshua did e-mail me this morning to say he was busy, but he was wishing me a good day. Intellectually, of course that is just fine.

But wow--I would normally go onto collarme or OKCupid and have someone chat me up and let me know I'm cute. Which just seems crazy--like 'really Constance? You really want that much attention?' Yes. I want that much attention. "I would like the universe to get down on it's knees and say Constance, whatever you please. It's OK even if its ridiculous. We'll arrange it!" So arrange it!

After I wrote that, another guy I went out with last week called me and I sort of blew him off, but didn't tell him I wouldn't see him again. It's this weird in-between space. (But other guy wanted to Skype while I was in Europe and I said no.) I was very careful not to do anything I couldn't tell Joshua I'd done. But I was glad for a little attention. And then 3 more men e-mailed me. One I had very little relationship with so, I just told him I wasn't available. The other I've been e-mailing for a couple of months (he is moving to Seattle in January) and I told him that I wanted to give Joshua and I space, and he was disappointed, but sweet and wants to stay in touch. Which, if Joshua and I work, I don't think will happen. But I did tell him he could still e-mail me any questions for his move (which I'd previously offered).

And then Joshua found a few minutes to call and I was so happy. And I wanted every more--I wanted to talk dirty, I wanted to see him, I wanted to delve into the places and he was just in the car running. I don't want to be that needy.

I am SO much like my cat, begging for pets. Fortunately I can control it. But it is interesting to watch my unmediated longings.

D/S versus kinky sex

So I spent Friday night at "Joshua's" and it was pretty spectacular. And he called me an hour after I left. And he called later in the day.

On an erotic level, I'm pretty sure we could really work (assuming I could fulfill his desires), and on a friends level, we could absolutely work.

However, he wants a full D/S relationship, and it is kind of freaking me out. I think it is freaking me out more theoretical and more for how I'd feel down the road, than how I'd feel right now. But I'm actually open to giving it a try. Mostly because part of me has longed for someone to support me in being more focused and then he did.

If you ice-skate--they do something called an 'ice-cut' where they take off the top layer of ice and put down fresh water, which freezes creating perfectly smooth ice. Before an ice-cut, the ice can be kind of gravelly and everything takes effort. I can still skate, but it isn't fun--it is an accomplishment. After an ice-cut, it take no energy to skate--you just kind of fly--I can get around the entire rink on one foot. Skating is effortless. And when Joshua started asking what I wanted to get done that day and then asking if I'd done it--it really was like an ice-cut for my life. Work seemed effortless and joyous. I can't believe the difference it made on so many levels! And that makes me willing to consider this. He seems wise. Over and over and over again, he has done things that make me trust his judgement. I'm smart--but not as wise as he is.

On our date, he not only ordered for me, he fed me! It was rather embarrassing and rather luscious. I would be curious to know that calorie difference if I'm eating small bites of less healthy food, versus feeding myself salad without dressing. I really don't know. I certainly enjoyed dinner very much!

Part of the D/s stuff feels like it codifies emotionally bad habits--to what extent is this codependent? It certainly feeds into my constant need to prove myself. There is definitely a part of it where I start trying to prove myself more in that context. I wanted to prove myself to Joshua so much--like somehow, if I could endure something, then I would be good enough for him. Because I don't think of myself as good enough now. That hardly seems healthy, but it also acknowledges where I am, honestly and truly, instead of trying to pretend I'm something I'm not.

The bifurcation thing I do, it seemed OK. He actually seems to like the side of me that is smart and authoritative. I think that being smart is actually necessary for him to want to be with someone. (Although I think my bifurcation is a little more extreme--I go from so polished to so young, so quickly! He kept pushing me back and forth and back and forth.)

He constantly demands to know what I'm thinking, and doesn't share what he's thinking. I would really like to know more of what he's thinking, but I think he thinks we could have potential and he seems to want something lasting. And I think he thinks that I think that he thinks that I think that there's too much thinking going on.

We didn't have sex, but came awfully, awfully close. I told him, in a pretty 'hard limit--no negotiation, not on the table for D/s' sort of way that I while I'm politically pro-choice, I would not choose that for me, which is a REALLY good way to have a date end quickly, as I know from lots and lots and lots of experience! (I feel an ethical obligation to have that conversation with someone--I do think in reality, it has to be a woman's choice, and I think it would be unfair for any child to not have support from both mom and dad, so I don't know how to make it better. But I don't think the current status quo is fair to men, who really don't get a choice and can get a child support bill that is pretty life defining. I just wouldn't want to put a man in that position and I wouldn't want to put a child in that position.) But it didn't end quickly. We did come close enough to sex (or at least I perceived that we were coming close, although I think his intention was to tease and confuse, but not to ravage) that I blurted out "I'm not on the pill." He promised before we started that we wouldn't have sex, but there was SO much teasing involved, I kind of can't believe he kept his promise on that. I'm really, really glad because I trust him a hell of a lot more than if that had been rediscussed when I was naked and submissive.

One concern I have is the constantly sharing what I'm thinking. He seems to have a history of women getting into him too quickly for his comfort, and I think it is linked to asking what someone is thinking all the time. I haven't hidden or prevaricated--I have been doing my very best to be open with him, but I want to talk to him about this, because I really think that chicks think things that freak guys out. Although maybe I focus more on the big picture when I'm not with him than when I am. And fortunately, I'm playing hard to get by actually having plans I made before I met him; I'm going to Europe for most of January. (Part of me wishes I wasn't--part of me is scared he'll meet someone while I'm gone. But who knows--maybe he'll just meet people that remind him how fabulous I am. He can't talk to chicks for 6 hours every night of the week--he does need to sleep sometime!)

Discipline and Focus

So there's a new guy; let's call him Joshua. And full caveat, we haven't met yet, so I should be all smitten.

But we did talk on the phone for 6 hours the other night! And he is very clear that he wants much more of a D/s focus that isn't just about sex. Normally, this would freak me out. But it isn't.

I think the big thing is that he is wise and we have values that seem quite similarly aligned. The ex wanted this, but he would have made me get stoned, or play Texas Hold-em to please him. There wouldn't have been anything about who I was in that.

Joshua has been asking what my projects are and what I want to do on them, and then holding me to that. And I am SO much more focused. It is kind of amazing. I'm about a week ahead of where I would thought I'd be (this is a really hectic time of year with several work project that always finish between Hanukkah and Christmas). I'm actually focusing and finishing. I haven't worked like this since Sept 11.

10 years ago, I really wanted this. Then I thought I'd never find it and besides, I should grow up and have my own, self-imposed discipline. And to a certain extent, I have. But this is so much easier. It feels like Mary Poppins spoon full of sugar. It makes it fun to get my work done. Like something just clicked and said "come home."

I really hope this works! I really like this man!

Ah, well...

Well, he never did call me. I don't know why, and I'm quite blue. I'll get over it, but I wish I understood. I wish there was something I could do. Something.

I really, really liked that man!

There are times I hate being a woman. I wish I could try to win him, but I know, I would just be the crazy one. I wish I could ask him why. Why? Why did he say all those things he wanted to do, and then not call? Could I have done something differently? Could I do something differently?

I had a dream that he said I was too fat for him.

I'm OK. No tears even. But disappointment. I was tempted to consider asking him if he wanted something that was no strings attached, but I realized, I'm just not that kind of girl. It would break my heart. Even if we didn't have sex, I would become more and more attached to him. He opened me up and I felt like we were pretty magical together.

Damnit

Yeah. He didn't call or e-mail. And yesterday I e-mail him because I had an extra theater ticket and he didn't e-mail back. So that is clear.

I really, really don't get it. And I'm really disappointed.

It is hard to open up like that. To just surrender. For everything to feel like it clicked. And then not understand why.

I don't know what to do with that. I don't want to shut myself off to experiences like that by trying to 'protect' myself. But I don't know how to protect myself. Or maybe I'm not supposed to. Maybe that pain is part of the pain of being fully alive.

I didn't really date till about 6 years ago, because men didn't really think I was attractive till about 6 years ago, when I made some changes in my work life and stopped with this insatiable need to prove myself. (It became only a constant need to prove myself--I still wanted to prove myself, though.)

And of course I now play Friday night (and Saturday morning) through the lens of my insecurities. I seem to think that either if I was thinner or if I was less complicated, he would be interested in seeing me again. He actually rubbed my tummy and I didn't freak out about it. It was lovely, actually. And I didn't do a full airing of the angsts, but I did set a few limits. And when I started to breathe too quickly and recognized it as the signs of a panic attack, I let him know.

I'm frankly kind of shocked he didn't call me. I really am. But there it is.

Waiting

Sometimes I'm embarrassed by what a stereotypical chick I am. I must have checked my iPhone about 100 times this weekend for e-mail. (My regular e-mail dings when I have a message, but the e-mail I use for dating does not.)

Intellectually, I think he'll call. When we started to get a little more intense physically, he pulled back and said this was a tease for later. He also said he was going to buy toys for us to use. And wants to find a Pro-Domme to show me how to do some of the things he liked. (He mentioned he had seen a pro-Domme a few times--I suggested it would be a good idea. He ran with it.)

But emotionally, oy ee vay!!! All I can say is, I'm very glad that I can take my phone with me instead of waiting at home by the phone. I can't even imagine how crazy it must have been in the days before answering machines!

I did, however, take off John's ring. I'm wearing a ring my dad gave me years ago. There were several times on Friday night (and Saturday morning) that John's ring pressed against me. It is time. It is in a beautiful little box, in another box of sentimental things from people I've loved. I hope to ask the universe for his blessing. But it was time.

Being Present

So the new guy hasn't called me, and it's been over 24 hours. lol. I am fairly confident that he will call. And if he doesn't, well, I had a magical night.

What I really want to do with this relationship is enjoy the present while I'm with him, rather than plan for the future. Of course, part of me is scared that when he saw me undressed, he was less interested. But I don' think so. He seemed far more enticed by the glint in my eyes when I undid his belt. And he said he was going to buy toys for us to use. And he would find a pro-domme to teach me how to be a domme.

And he would make me write while I was naked and uncomfortable. (I have a couple of articles I need to finish and haven't been.) And his dating profile said he wanted to have kids.

We didn't have sex, which is good. He didn't let me take off any more of his clothes than his belt. So if he doesn't call, I will be sad and confused. But I'll be OK.

But I think with John, and maybe a few other times, I've been more focused on building a future than enjoying the present. And this man--let's call him David--David seduced and claimed me in a delicious way. And I have a feeling that he would like more. At the present moment, I'm greedy and want more. Much more. Last night I was out with another guy and I just wanted to run over to David's apartment and jump in his bed. But I guess I care enough about the future to not be that enticed by the present moment.

Wow!

So there's this guy (what a shock) that I've been flirting with for a couple of months on-line. Long e-mails. Intense. Lots of great details. We met on a vanilla dating site, but it was quite clear that each had kink in our profiles (although he picked up mine from a mention of Anne Rice as authors that I like). We never sussed out the details however.

So we finally had dinner tonight. We talked about a lot of things, but mostly about Britain versus America. But he mentioned kink--not in a "let's go through a checklist" way--we were actually talking about past therapists, and he said he had one he'd freaked out with kink. As we talked, it seemed more of his interests, or at least experiences, were as a bottom. But I asked, and it became clear that he was more of a switch, and I said I could switch for the right man.

Over drinks, he started to play with my cheek and I melted into the floor. Just melted. Melted enough that I gulped an alcoholic drink a little bit later. And then as we were talking, he pushed me against a wall and just from him kissing me, I blurted out 'whatever you say.' And he took me up on that.

I went to his apartment. (This was so unplanned, I hadn't shaved my legs for several days and was wearing plain cotton underwear and Spanx.) And he proceeded to have me undress and 'inspect' his new toy. We didn't have sex (not even oral sex--when I say not even oral sex--I mean me giving head--me getting oral sex is much more emotionally fraught than me giving)--I was really clear about that. Part of me wants to just trust and let whatever happen, but it just doesn't work for me. I'm sure part of it is my innate puritanism. But it is more than that. I'm getting clearer that I can submit and still take care of myself. He didn't even get undressed.

We talked a lot, but not in a checklist sort of way. But I did tell him I had baggage and going into these realms meant baggage could come up and what the signs of a panic attack for me were. And he spanked me for my birthday (but not too hard-playful showy affectionate). And I mentioned I hadn't been spanked since Bush was in office, and he said this was all a tease and foreplay. And he said he was going to buy toys.

He totally got the tone. Holy shit, did he get the tone. Oh my God. Except he's agnostic and so am I. (We don't believe in very different gods, however. He doesn't believe in a Jewish god and I don't believe in a Christian god, modeled on the cover of the My Fair Lady cast album and a bald Santa Clause, but we seem to think that we don't have to kill each other over which God we don't believe in.)

He made it very clear that it would be important for him that we switch sometimes. Which I actually think could be fun. And he said "I don't have any toys for you to play with" and I, playing naive and innocent (I don't know why I enjoy playing naivety so much) said 'really? Nothing?' while I undid his belt. And I told him to buy licorice strings. And next time I'm going to tie his hands up and hit him with the belt until he breaks the licorice strings. He said he was looking forward to the evil glint in my eye. And I think it really could be fun. I could love this man. And I think he could love me too.

One foot in front of the other

I don't have much to say, but my horoscope said I should update my blog.

I think I'm making changes for the better. But I feel like I'm trudging through mud.

And my birthday is this week, and I have no one to spend it with. Not even friends--they are all out of town. My only plan for my birthday is to have a cupcake. And I've been looking forward to that cupcake for weeks now. That feels rather pathetic. And I'm definitely feeling the social assumptions that come with age. I don't think I look my age. (I'm pretty sure I don't--I got carded the last time I went to a bar. I'm sure I don't look under 21, but early 30s seems reasonable. But I do have wrinkles when I smile. They go away when I'm not smiling, but definitely have them under my eyes whenever I'm smiling even a little bit.)

I don't feel anywhere near 40. But then, what, exactly does '40' feel like? I still can't quite believe I'm nearing that number, though. I'm beginning to understand my friends that lie about their ages.

But I do think some things are shifting for me right now.

Work is difficult, and part of the reason it is difficult is that my boss is being a jerk and I'm not standing up to him. A client filed a complaint that I started a meeting on-time (instead of having the entire meeting of 15 people wait until she arrived) and my boss took it seriously! Seriously!

I don't stand up for myself. And I'm recognizing that as a pattern. I feel like my job would be in jeopardy if I did in this instance. But the flip-side is that my job is in jeopardy if I don't, because I have a history of getting pissed off (over a several-year period), not doing anything and quitting. I still haven't said anything to my boss, and I don't think I can go over his head. But at least I'm recognizing this patter of mine.

I also have several men who seem to be interested in me. None of whom I'm particularly smitten with. One man is a vegan studying to become a nutritionist and the other is a junk food junkie. The former I went out with a couple of times a year ago, and then I broke up with him and he asked me for another chance. It is nice to be pursued. But I don't know that that is enough. But it is nice to feel like I'm attractive.

Bleah

I'm in mild trouble at work because a client complained about the fact that I enforced a rule, and my boss isn't backing me up. His view is any complaint is valid.

I really hate it when I feel like I'm doing everything right and I don't have support for people around me. I hated it when I felt that way with the ex-boyfriend, and I hate it at my job. Unfortunately, the economy is such, that I'm afraid I don't have much of a choice right now.

And, I have a birthday coming up and no one to spend it with. I have 3 close friends, but only one lives in my town, and she's going to be in another country on my birthday. My only plans for my birthday are to get a cupcake at my favorite cupcake place. The thought of it makes me want to cry!!! I feel like I can't even do my regular fun things because people I do those with are on facebook and it just looks to pathetic to be taking extra dance classes on my birthday, or something like that.

I'm really trying to be open and joyous instead of guarded and defensive. But it means my emotions are much closer to the surface, and right now, that is hard.

What do I want? Pt. 2

I realized, I didn't answer that the last time.

So, on a relationship level, I want a pretty egalitarian relationship. I am sure we'd split household tasks based on what each of us liked, to do and what we'd hire someone to help with. Hopefully, he'd make about as much more as me, give or take 10 or 20 thousand dollars. If he made a lot more, I'd deal, I'm sure. But it would be hard for me--I think I'd end up feeling like I had to prove myself. If he made a lot less, well I could handle it if he had a 'calling' that he was actively pursuing. But I'm also aware that I work a second job because I make an extra 15K a year, or so. It's only about 6 hours a week, or so, but it takes a lot more than 6 hours a week, because it is an hour here and an hour there, and I have to travel for each hour. Anyway, I feel like if I was married to someone that hadn't made sacrifices to make a solid living, I could feel like things were out of whack. I wouldn't not go out with someone because they made little, but I did go out with a guy that made about 22K a year, and when I found out he was getting palimony from his ex wife, I lost interest in him. I don't really want to support someone, unless he is doing something I really believe in (probably political or humanitarian--I have enough unrealized artistic dreams that it would be hard for me to support someone else in his art, unless it was temporary).

Anyway, moving on: I want someone who will be interested enough in me to support me in my dreams. Maybe he'd be willing to read what I'm writing every few months, to talk about it and ask questions. (And, of course, I'd do that for him!)

I want someone that is somewhat optimistic about the world, without being crazy, who will have respect for my spiritual meanderings and my underlying agnosticism.

I want someone with a strong sense of integrity and a purpose in the world beyond making money.

Erotically: I want someone who will lead, like a ballroom dancer leads. This means he is in charge, and tells me what to do. He would cherish me, and make sure I had fun.

But not until I trust him enough to lead.

He would know me well enough to read my facial expressions. If he wanted to push me into the liminal places, where both pain and pleasure are intertwined, and I can't label or define, so I stop thinking for that moment, wonderful. But he couldn't push me out of pleasure and into just pain. I need both.

And sometimes, he would hear my fear or reluctance and kiss me on the eyes and say "but I know you'll do this for me." And then he wouldn't push me to endurance--just to the edge. Never falling in. But having my concerns heard and then ignored (nicely) is incredibly sexy to me.

But most of all, it is tone.

There was one evening with the ex that was so magical. He always liked me to be naked and kneeling when he came home, but sometimes I wouldn't hear the door open, and I wouldn't be and then I'd feel bad (I do love to please), so he started calling me on his way home, so I'd be ready, and that worked beautifully for both of us. He got obedience, and I got a way to please. Anyway, one day he had gone to take the trash out--I think it was recycling day, or something, cause he was gone for a couple of minutes, so when he came back, I was naked and kneeling for him. And this day, he came up and rubbed my back for a bit, and told me how beautiful I was, and then took off his belt and proceeded to spank me. But it didn't hurt at all. I just luxuriated in it. He had never seen me like that. Somehow or other, the tone, the massage, the cherishing--it all just came together. I didn't want him to stop (the only time that had ever happened with my ex).

I don't know if I'm actually kinky enough to be on the kinky website, although I have put an ad back up on collarme--I like the open communication that starts there. Most of the people are not for me, but perchance....

Is it Better to be Right than Loved

This seems a big issue for me. When I was a kid, and I'd argue with my dad over something he'd always say: "Is it better to be right or be loved?" The problem is, we were arguing over facts. And usually I was right. When we moved to the street we lived on for most of my childhood, the street name was long with difficult spelling. My dad clearly had a hard time learning to spell it, and he wasn't willing to admit it to me, his 2nd grader. I finally went and learned it from the street sign because he kept changing the spelling (I'm sure inadvertently) and he was really upset that his second grader (whom, I might added, had been placed in the lowest of each tracks and threatened with being held back a year) was correcting him.

"Is it better to be right or loved?" But I was right. There was a fact that could be determined. To me, it isn't important that I'm right, but I have this obsession with getting facts correct. There are known facts, and if our conversation is using facts, we should both have the correct facts. When my facts are wrong, I try to tell everyone I've given the wrong fact to in order to not perpetuate wrong facts. I've been known to e-mail someone six months after a conversation to issue a correction to my facts.

I know that I go farther than most on this, and I wish I didn't care, but it really, really matters to me that facts are correct, and I know it is a turn-off for a lot of men, who don't necessarily want to check their facts when they are going out with someone.

Recently, I was out with a little twit of a man, and he claimed he was interested in global warming (wanting to start a business in order to invest in green technologies) so we started talking and I said something like "without limits in carbon dioxide" and he said "what are you talking about" and I said "well I just don't see the political will to pass meaningful climate change" and he said "but we've already signed on to it" and I said "but Kyoto didn't have any enforcement mechanisms" and he said "but we've agreed to limit carbon dioxide. That debate's over." And I was like "no, we haven't." And he said "Oh, sweetie. You don't know what you're talking about." I said "Well, I'd love to read what you're reading because everything I'm reading is telling me the opposite." But of course I never returned his call after that.

Now, I suppose, it is possible that I'm wrong and we have agreed to limit carbon dioxide and I missed it. But I seriously doubt it. It isn't because I want to be 'right;' it's just that, and I know this sounds arrogant, but I am right. When facts are involved, I tend to know what I know and know what I don't know and I am usually right.

But, when feelings and emotions are involved, I will immediately say I'm wrong; immediately apologize and take the blame. And that's a problem too. Reading through John and my correspondence, I noticed how often I would say "I was wrong, I'm sorry" hoping to make the situation better. And a lot of the time, I wasn't wrong, but I wasn't just saying it. Now, John was probably an extreme case because I really think his memory issues were more extreme than he realized. In the most extreme case, he was really upset that he had sent me an e-mail, reaching out to me about how he felt with his mother's death, and I never responded. When he confronted me about it, I apologized. It probably would have been better for both me and for our relationship if I had said: "John, I never got that e-mail. I've searched my e-mail (and we both use gmail so it is easy to search) and have no record of ever receiving it." At the moment, going through my e-mails felt like I would be confronting him; like I would be trying to be right at the expense of being wrong. So I just accepted blame, hoping to be wrong and be loved.

I think it is important that I stop assuming I'm the one that is always wrong. I don't want to insist on being right, but I think I need to be willing to say my side, instead of just saying: "I'm wrong--love me." And somehow, or other, I need to let go of my obsession for facts. They are useful, but they aren't the be all and end all. Perhaps the "I'd love to read where you read that; now let's talk about something sexy" would be a good thing to say.

What Do Women Want? What do I want?

So I posted a profile on CollarMe. We'll see how long I last. But here's the thing--I haven't met anyone worth dating on OKCupid. And I met John on CM. And, frankly, I met Steve, whom I glad I met, and the ex boyfriend as well. And a couple of other randoms I'm glad I met.

But I don't know if I could ever trust a man enough again to surrender. I really don't. And that makes me deeply, deeply sad.

I went out with a guy last week from there. Perchance if he'd asked a single follow-up question, after dominating the conversation all evening (I would say he probably about 90% of the time, which means it was probably 75% of the time--literally after talking about his 4 favorite towns in England, he asked the last time I went to Europe and I said January, and he didn't even ask me which countries!), maybe I would have responded differently. I did kiss him because it was easier, but wouldn't let him French kiss me. That seems to be my new limit.

The thing is, with John, the only way we had a chance was when he got to the point where he would rather be with me than do any S&M activity. He likened it to "standing up on roller-coasters." He was like with Jamie (that was the girl he dated after we met, who would do anything he wanted of an S&M scale, but couldn't be loyal or emotionally honest, or maybe she could and he was having brain problems--I don't know, although John's sister confirmed John's story): "We both liked standing up on roller-coasters. So we did a lot of standing up on roller-coasters. But it isn't pivotal to me."

I would say, I'm being pretty good about standing up for myself. Well, at least better than I was! The asshole who talked about my physical shortcomings, he really did hurt me. And how hard would it have been to say "I'm just not really in a place where I think I can date right now." Or "I tend to go for brunettes" or whatever. But the funny thing is, I met him on OKCupid.

But, when someone isn't treating me well, I hold my right ring-finger, with my ring that John had for a year and a half, and I take a deep breath and say "cute as a god-damned button" and then I take care of myself.

I was talking with a friend who believes in God, and doesn't believe that our experience of linear time is the only way to experience time, once we're no longer in this world. I'm jealous of his surety. I wish I felt John's presence, other than in my mind. I wish, well I wish for so much.

Dreams

I had this really intense dream about John last night.

He was in a hospital and I crawled into bed with him. He was hooked up to machines that were I guess like dialysis, or something, to take the strain off his heart and he was worried about me and wanted to hook my up to the machine so I could have a break from having to clean and oxygenate my own blood. And I started fighting with him that he needed it, and I could do it myself, but he kept insisting that this was something he could do for me, that he wanted to take care of me so I could have a break.

I don't usually put much stock in dreams, but this one stayed with me all day. I can't seem to shake it. I feel guilty for him giving me something in my dream that he couldn't afford to give me. I wish I knew what it means. It's been disorienting today, but intellectually, I don't think I should feel like I've done something wrong.

Men and Beauty

I'm trying really hard to let go of my insecurities around my looks. I'm quite beautiful in some ways, but not in the way our society currently likes women.

I'm also trying to be aware that just because some men behave in certain ways, not all men do.

Yesterday was hard. First I got a massage from a self-described 'aging hippie' who would not shut up during my massage, and he was going through a divorce. According to him, his ex was a materialistic woman and 'what did she want with an aging hippie like me?' He was clearly frustrated with her focus on material possession and the dominant narrative for how to define worth, and I asked him what he wanted from her: "Well, she was sexy and beautiful." Grrrr! All his frustrations were defined by her as a woman falling into fairly stereotypical ways of measuring value, but he as a man was doing the exact same thing!

Then I get home and check my e-mail. I went out with this man twice, about 6 months ago. He blew me off after the 2nd date. I would have blown him off if he hadn't blown me off. He HATED a job that probably paid $10 an hour and didn't really have any plan for how to change his job or find a better job or make a change. He hated the area where we live, and pretty much hated his life. He was living here to be a 'good son' but was only waiting for his mother to die, so he could go back to Alaska, where life was good. A month ago he asked if I wanted to borrow a book of his and I didn't reply. Then last week he asked if I'd like to go out again. I said: "What's your thinking? You kind of disappeared after the last time we got together, and I know you want to move back to Alaska."

He replied:

I've been wondering about myself lately. I'm guessing you are blissfully ignorant of Seinfeld? One episode, he made the proclamation that 90% of the population was un-dateable. (How do the rest of us make out? Alcohol.)

Yeah, I'm not really happy here. I miss Alaska terribly. But the life I left is no longer there. I'm fairly committed to staying in the area as long as my mom does. So I have learn to make the most out of my time here.

I'm kind of caught in a huge Catch 22. I have neither a job nor a mate and that makes me depressed (not that I really need much excuse). That makes it that much harder to be 'up' when on an interview or a date. Last date said she didn't feel any spark (nor did I). But I'm wondering if I have a spark to give off.

And its also not good that, as I get older and learn more about myself, I don't necessarily like what I learn. Fer instance, I would like to believe that I can be attracted to someone's intellect and have that make up for any short comings, say, physically.

But sadly, that's not the case. As I said, its not really something I'm proud of. Its not something that I really know how to deal with. So, I ignore instead of dealing.

But I do like you for your intellect. I've kind of adopted one of your mannerisms--your singsong acknowledgement 'I see'. But it seems highly unlikely a romantic match is possible.

So, I was wondering if you would like to see each other as friends. Go to museums maybe bike ride but w/o any romantic intentions. I'd really like to have a friend like you.

Not particularly surprising, but I assume that what he meant is: "You have physical short-comings but I like your intellect. But that isn't enough to make you dateable. But spend time with me because I need a friend."

It really pissed me off. I sent 2 replies. One said: "I wish you the best and appreciate your honesty, but I'm not doing platonic friends here." And the other said (and I'm glad I sent it, an hour later--I was still pissed): "Telling a girl she has physical short comings, it really isn't kind. I only allow people to be friends who are kind to me."

So in the past, I'd let this man affect my sense of self and I would go back into yet another cycle of feeling insecure. I could list all his short-comings; but why? He is clearly stuck in his rather negative cycle. (He got fired since we left, probably because he hated his job so much.) And I wouldn't have been happy with him anyway.

John was so far and away a superior man to this man. And the ring on my finger reminds me that he thought I was pretty fucking extraordinary, lacking only in confidence. I refuse to let this twit pull me into a cycle of self-doubt.

I was kayaking yesterday, and I fell in the lake. And this man started laughing at me. Derisively and mockingly, pointing at me from the shore. And I ignored him, pulled my kayak on shore, flipped it over, drained it out and went to get a different kayak as he laughed the entire time. I started to walk over to him and I realized he was retarded. I'm guessing downs syndrome; I'm not sure. And I know he has probably been laughed at, and people have probably teased him. And he probably hated it. And I know, by my view of the world, I'm lucky to be me and not him. And I tried to have kindness for him. But he just kept laughing and pointing at me. I didn't know how to talk to him, without being condescending or angry. So I stayed silent. I'm tired of staying silent while men treat me badly. But I also know that it isn't all men. John would have challenged me to a jousting duel on kayaks and then fallen in the water before he pulled me back in. I want to be honest in my emotions, but being mad at men in general is neither fair, nor will not bring me greater joy.

Beyond Words

I was listening to Radio Lab on "Words" (which, by the way, is a fabulous show--highly recommend!--yes, I am an NPR nerd...) and they were talking with this woman who had a stroke. While she was in the middle of the stroke, she lost language, and it was blissful.

That is was S&M used to do for me. I'm so defined by language. I use words to navigate not just the physical world, but also my emotional world. They tell me how I'm feeling. I love the word 'liminal' because it was a way of defining that space in-betwixt and between. Before I had that word, I didn't know how to embrace that space. I fell in love with John based on our words.

Somehow, when I first started playing with wiitwd, it was magical. I remember going out with this man who kept dropping hints about kinky friends, but saying "of course, I'm not into that." Over, and over and over. And on our third date, I looked at him and said "Are you really as vanilla as you keep trying to reassure me..." And then he took me home and spanked me. And ran ice-cubes on my hot ass. It was magical. And I stopped thinking in words and started thinking in pictures. Which is so odd, if you think about it. Why not feelings instead of words? Where did the pictures come from? But all of a sudden it was pictures.

I've thought about trying to find someone kinky again, but it scares me. Scares the hell out of me. And then I remember that I met John on collarme. And the vanilla men, well, they bore me. Bored or scared, bored or scared, bored or scared.

I ache for the sublime. Not in the modern sense, in sense of the Romantics. Terror and awe at God's presence. I think the closest I've found, outside of wiitwd, is that moment on the Maid of the Mist ride at Niagara Falls. Exhilaration and totally alive to the present without words to define and demarcate and limit.

Amateur

I seem to be in a good space with dating as of late.

I went to a 'speed-dating' event last week, and 14 men were interested in me! (Actually perchance a few more--14 of the men I was interested in were interested in me.) And I was at the oldest age range, so most of these men were younger, I think. I went with a size 6 friend, and she got only 3 men responding to her. So clearly, size is not everything!

Then, on OK Cupid, there was this fabulous man, who has a 'red' (responds rarely) status. I rarely write men, and have never written a 'responds rarely' guy, but I loved his profile and we had quite a bit in common. (He also had several references to kinky literature in his profile.) Anyway, he wrote me back, and not just a 'hi' but several pages each time. (I expect that he responds selectively because he writes a great deal.) And then he stopped writing me back and I was so very sad and did exactly what I always do, which is to analyze everything I might have done wrong. But then 2 days later, another fabulous long e-mail (which an apology and an explanation).

Meanwhile, I really do like one of the men from the speed-dating, despite my suspicion that he is a decade younger than me. I'm not sure how to suss out his age without giving mine away. (I don't usually go to the speed dating events where I'll be on the older side, but they had a last-minute free promotion for gals since they had too many guys.)

So first of all--half the guys that I liked at speed dating liked me. Half. Wow. Half!!! And a guy who responds rarely seems quite interested. I think of myself as not pretty enough for conventional standards. (I do think I'm quite beautiful, but not pretty. I'm, I think, beautiful in a Renoir-would-have-loved-to-have-painted-me sort of way, but not in a what-is-conventionally-attractive-in-an-age-where-photoshop-makes-models'-hips-smaller-than-their-heads sort of way. Intellectually, I know that men want a gal who is capable of walking upright and more of a mammal than an insect, but emotionally, I feel like I'm just too chubby. (I did lose nearly 10 pounds after John died, and I seem to have kept that off, though--yeah for the grief diet! For those who care, I seem to be a 14/16 at the moment, or, in "W" sizes more of a 12W/14W.)

So I'm really trying to just hold the fact that men are attracted to me. I actually sort of felt like that maybe John was up there tweaking men in my direction. My insecurity about men not being interested in me is partly linked to not really respecting men. When my dad told me (when I was in the 6th grade) that "You'll never get a boyfriend if you don't lose weight," I responded "Well then I don't want a boyfriend." While we were both wrong, I think I made a deal with the universe that I wouldn't try to want a boyfriend because I didn't know how to lose weight. But A) I'm not that big. (Statistically,in I'm 'average' size, although I do have trouble believing that.) And B) not all men judge women only on their size. Face, hair, tits, those things matter too, and in those areas, I do pretty well.

The man I'm enjoying corresponding with has several notable features. He and I have discussed literary kink. But nothing beyond that. (His profile makes reference to several kinky fiction pieces, so I recommended my favorite kinky book, Safe Word by Molly Weatherfield, and he bought it and is reading it!)

We are sharing ideas, but both of us have alluded to identifying with characters in fiction, and both of us have said we'll discuss it in person. I think this is good, because it is keeping the conversation from becoming too emotionally intense too early.

I read in a book on relationships that relationships built around sharing our wounded vulnerable pieces sometimes keep both people stuck in the wounded area--that we can't grow and heal if that's how we base intimacy. I asked my best friend and she totally agreed. I'm not sure if I believe this--I don't know what intimacy looks like if it doesn't involve a certain amount of sharing vulnerability. But I want to make sure I'm sharing good stuff in abundance.

I worry that I might be giving off an angst-free sense of kink, but I think as long as it stays in a literary discussion (and mostly of vampires, we haven't talked about Safe Word) then I think I'm fine. Interestingly, I get the sense that he might have had a bit of angst there as well, but I'm totally reading that into something he said. If we get more personal, then I think I have to mention that "while mostly of my baggage is neatly folded, I do think that rummaging in those waters could involve some laundry." That isn't the right way to say it, but something along those lines.

But I'm also aware of not wanting to develop the kind of intensity I had with John over e-mail. I'm very much enjoying correspondence. But I don't think that level of intensity is healthy in a virtual relationship. I think the 'let's save that for an in-person talk' is a really good way to go. Taking time to build trust before kink is introduced is just plain old sensible and intelligent!

But I do relish the thought of finding someone with whom I could be a kinky amateur.

A sense of presence

Yesterday I put John's picture away from my bed and made my bed normally. (I've been sleeping in a sort of nest, with all these pillows on one side and my comforter on the other.)

So this morning, I was lying in bed, on my left side, with a small pillow between my arms. Lying on my side is a very lonely position in bed--I so ache to have someone come and spoon around me. I think spooning may be my most favorite thing in the world. Anyway, it sounds cheesy, but I felt a sense of John. It was quite simple, almost a whisper. But we had a conversation that boiled down to:

There is some sense of an afterlife.

He loved me.

He will keep an eye on me and help me find someone I will love.

I need to do my part by honouring my inner-Connie (make my two halves friends) and by believing in myself.

I musn't 'compromise.' I will meet someone I will truly love. No dating men that I think I ought to be happy with.

We will connect again at some point. Not in any recognizable form. But as spiritual entities.

He should go, and I asked if he had to, and he said not right now. Whenever I'm ready.

I asked him if this was entirely a figment of my imagination and he said not entirely. My sense, and I was sort of mostly asleep but not entirely, was that either he was in a form that I couldn't comprehend or that I was making this up, but it was based on who John really was.

It was a nice whisper of his love.

Here's to the ladies who lunch...

So I'm a little worried I'm drinking too much. I've had 18 drinks in the last 9 days, including 5 tonight. John always thought I should drink more, but there's no need for me to turn into Elaine Stritch all of a sudden.

I was on a date tonight, and the guy just spent so much money! It was fun, but also it felt hedonistic. I am sure dinner was over $300. With tip, probably $400. I always felt taken care of when John ordered the $19 meal for me, instead of letting me pick the $11 meal. (And sometimes we went to places that got into the low twenties for an entrée, but usually not.) But this felt odd. My salad was $12. Our entrees were $39. Each! I had 2 whiskey sours, 1 glass of wine, a glass of port and a glass of champagne. (That said, I didn't finish my 2nd whiskey sour, or the wine. But the staff kept bring out booze without me even ordering something.) I said I'd have a glass of port after the dinner and intended to order the $9 glass of port, but he ordered me that $34 port. $34! For a glass!!! Oy. I'd rather have the $9 and a $25 check to Pakistan relief. Then, I said that I had loved having a glass of port and a bit of cheese in Portugal and so he ordered a cheese platter. 14 kinds of cheese (about 3 huge pieces each). I think we ate maybe a total of 1 of the 14 pieces. (We had lots of little bites.) It was fun, but felt like a level of conspicuous consumption that made me feel odd. Ah, well.

The guy tonight was charming and funny. He drove me home and we sang Tom Lehrer songs in his car. But I'm not particularly attracted to him. However, he dropped 3 references to kink, so I'm happy to go out with him and see what develops. (I told him I want to go to a cheap hole in the wall next time, though.)

Meanwhile, I feel like I'm loosening a little around John. I can still burst into tears at a moment, if I think about him, but I put his picture in a slightly less conspicuous place.

I realized that there are several ways I wish John had been or acted differently. John really wanted me to agree to be his friend, and I did, and then he dropped me as a friend. That hurt! Also, it seems to me that John couldn't handle the fact I wasn't perfect. When I did something that annoyed him (and sometimes I totally see why he was annoyed, but sometimes I think it was unfair), he wouldn't bring it up kindly. He'd avoid me for a while or attack me quite harshly. I think he knew it. I think he wanted to change. But it was hard.

I pray for John. I don't really believe in God, but I'm hedging my bets here. I pray that he finds total, unconditional love. The love his parents never had for him. And peace and light. I try to visualize light for him. I hope there's an afterlife, and he has found a great equivalent of a bar and he and I can sit down and have a drink in 50 or 70 years, and finally have that loving kindness for each other. I'm sure he wanted it for me, even if we didn't ever express it.

Meanwhile, I'm going to watch how much I'm drinking. I'm not drinking by myself or at home. But whereas I used to nurse one drink and then switch to seltzer, I now seem to be happy to have quite a few. I'm not gaining weight from the booze (just the opposite it seems), but it feels wrong. This, at least, is not the time to radically increase my alcohol consumption.

Crawling out from under a rock

I seem to be doing a little better. Only one flash flood today, and I was able to control it enough to get into a restroom, and then be presentable 5 minutes later.

So this is what I currently think about the whole situation.

A) I am taking John at his word that he really did care about me. There were times I felt like I was just a distraction, but I think that was my own insecurities. There is enough evidence (borrowing my ring, calling me his soul mate to a friend, 564 pages of e-mails) that I do really believe he cared about me. I'm even willing to believe that his reluctance to have sex was his wanting to protect me. He told he he'd done a lot of casual sex, and it didn't work. He could have had me anytime, and he knew it. That was a sacrifice he made.

B) John did, I think, know his body wasn't working well. He told me he had serious memory issues, and I didn't take that as seriously as I should have. He also had been tested for MS, Lou Gehrig's disease and several other issues. There was no way that I can think that this could have been prevented (aside from not smoking, and John loved his cigarettes too much to give them up; plus, he believed he had Parkinson's, and cigarettes actually help prevent the onset of that.)

C) John knew he could be unkind when he was upset. I think that's what he meant when he said he was a bit of a rough ride. I didn't deal with it well. Mostly, I'd get defensive and then he'd disappear. I really hate that we had unresolved arguments. Like everyone, I'm not perfect. Like everyone, John would get upset with me sometimes (and I even got upset with him sometimes.) Like everyone, we'd clash over the stupidest things sometimes. John wanted me to be more rugged. I think there is where. I think he wanted to be able to get angry with me and not have it damage my sense of self. But I loved him, so it did. I seem to protect myself by how close I allow someone to me. I have very few defenses against someone who is very close to me.

D) John said "I don't deserve you. You deserve the man I aspire to become." I wanted to take that journey with him, but he didn't want to 'dishonour' me and believed he would at that point in his life. And it is possible that he was right. I actually think his desire for bdsm was linked to wanting someone to embrace the part of him that he saw as causing other people pain.

E) I expect John would be touched by my love for him. But I know he would also want me to live a full and beautiful life. I think he thought it would be a better life without him (he was wrong, but there it is.) I think if he had any one wish for me it was to believe in myself. To be a little less fragile and a little more rugged.

F) I regret that John and I didn't have that year and a half together. I would give anything to have that year and a half together. But it would have been a hell of a hard year and a half. Between him losing his job, his mother dying, my dad's cancer, and the fact that we didn't do a good job of resolving conflicts. I honestly don't know how I would have been able to manage last summer with taking care of my dad if he'd been in the picture. But I'd still give anything for that time with him.

G) He said once that he was always so happy when he was with me, but he didn't know if I made him happy, or whenever he was happy he wanted to be with me. I hope he was happy when he contacted me in June. I hope he was happy when he died. (I consider his "dying" to be when he had his heart attack, not when they turned off the machine.) But ultimately, I want a partner who can be with me when he's sad too.

H) I regret telling him how badly he hurt me. I don't think I did anything wrong. I tried to behave with integrity and love. But I think it probably caused him remorse. He believed (foolishly in my opinion) that if we didn't have sex, he wouldn't hurt me. If there is an afterlife, and if in that afterlife people have any connection with the people of this world, I truly hope and pray that he knows that I'm so very glad that I met him. I have regrets, but mostly about not resolving stuff. I would not have given up any of the time we had--I just wish we'd had more. (If there is an afterlife, I also hope and pray that John finds true, unconditional love. The love his mother never had for him. Wouldn't it be lovely if there was a deity, whether or not it is personified, that could provide him with warmth and love and light?)

I) I'm trying to figure out why his death hit me so hard, when he had already absented himself from my life. (Ignoring whether or not his reaching out to me the week before he died meant anything, although that certainly meant something to me.) Part of it was realizing that I didn't believe the narrative that I had told myself (that he wasn't that into me--that I didn't mean anything to him). Realizing that he did care about me, that made it a lot harder that we didn't work. John put most of the onus on my, but I really think it wasn't either of us--it was the particular chemistry between the two of us.

It also means that this is truly it. I had a feeling that John was going to come back in my life in some way or other. I went through the motions of moving on. But I didn't do it completely. Even though part of me thinks that this is a joke, or an elaborate ruse on his part to force me to get over him and move on, I know it can't be. No one can fake an obit on the NY Times web site. This is it. There will be no coda.

I wear my ring now and it is no longer just my ring. It is the ring that John had with him for a year and a half. It has his energy. He said in one of his last e-mails that it was like I was waiting for cosmic permission to trust myself, to trust him. I'm trying to think of this ring as his blessing to trust us both.

Two Flawed Beautiful Humans in Their Flawed Beauty

Well, I got through all the e-mails. They come to 564 pages, 12 point, Times New Roman, Single Spaced. Probably about 10 pages of that are photos.

Wow.

So, here's what I noticed.

His final e-mails to me, some of the bigger complaints he had about me, maybe they were fair. But mostly, I don't think so. I know that John had memory problems (he told me so), and I really think that that contributed to our misunderstandings. For example, he said: What I recall is my attempting to reach out to YOU. I remember trying to engage you on the subject of my mother's death and getting something back like 'good thoughts!'"

What the e-mails say is I asked him if he wanted to get together and he said:

Can't, sorry. I just got laid off from my job and to top it all off, my mother died yesterday."

I'm so sorry. So sorry.

Then I wrote the next week: "I hope you're doing ok. If you need anything let me know. It's a standing offer. I'm so sorry you got clobbered so badly all at once." And he didn't reply.

(I should mention his mom had been sick for about a month, and I wrote every single week, asking how he was and if he needed anything. I did send an e-mail where I asked "How you holding up? Do you need anything?" and wrote "good thoughts" about 100 times below it and he wrote: "I'm okay." I didn't respond right away, but asked how he was the next week. I assume that is what he was talking about, but he didn't reach out to me. "I'm okay" is not exactly a reaching out.")

Now maybe I didn't fully communicate, but I don't think that this was a case of him actually reaching out to me. I don't know if there is an unsent e-mail in his drafts folder that he thought he sent, but I don't think he reached out to me in any way I could have known.

He also was frustrated with me about my 'arrogance:' But the day any highly educated expert speaking on the subject of her own field refuses to explain her position and falls back to simple appeal to authority, actually expecting me to suspend my inquiry without an explanation simply because She Has Spoken, well, there's only so much I can put up with.

I found the conversation, and I can't reprint all of it because it makes me too easily identifiable. But I mentioned a link to something I found interesting and he said: "Sorry Connie but you know that's pretty much a grocery list of everything I find reprehensible in the universe. That sort of thing makes me cranky - it's just so... *pointless*" I attempted to explain when I cared (in 2 pages) and he replied: "look at what you're calling serious Connie I mean, *look at what you're calling serious*. Sinking to the occasion isn't part of the solution, it's part of the problem. Turning the conversation into sound bites and snark is a complete waste of time. Taking sides in an argument between Dumb and Dumber is not looking into the pit, it's the pit looking into you." Then we get to my 'appeal to my own authority' that infuriated him.

You know I did my (really big professional accomplishment on that topic). That was the topic I cared enough about to be one of the largest undertakings I've ever done. (This other thing also linked, which is almost my e-mail handle and is the thing he is putting down) is one of my proudest accomplishments.

In the last five years, I've kind of lost my passion for (this other part of my work). But my respect for and engagement in (the first part) is what I still identify with out of that project. It has been a huge part of my professional work and remains part of my engagement with the intellectual side of my professional life. As I've lost interest in (the second part), I've shifted my research over more and more to (the first part).

I know you don't care for it--fine. But you don't have to put down my interest in it.

I look at that, and maybe it is a girl/guy thing, but I really don't think I was out of line. I hardly think this is a matter of me saying "I'm smarter than you." I only mentioned the accomplishments because the topic represents a huge amount of my work, and I wanted him to be maybe a little kinder about the parts of me he didn't respect.

He said that I lacked courage when he and I were together. "Honestly though Connie- it's not a revelation that you had feelings on the line - but the scale!? The scope!? You kept that from me.? I got a hell of a lot of composed small talk and not much of the steam beneath the surface.? I introduce the topic one more time:? candor!? Why now?? What was the problem?? I was open to you.? Why didn't you talk to me?"

Here's excerpts of what we wrote one evening in January of 2009:

I want to brainstorm about how I don't get badly hurt. I know you don't want to hurt me. I know you said "patience isn't rejection" but it feels like it. And I feel like this is feeding my worst insecurities.

As we both know, I like clarity and you like ambiguity. I know that you aren't certain, but it will drive me insane, so I'm wondering if there is a way we can find to way to fake it.

Would it be possible to just leave it as "we're not involved romantically" and you stop mentioning that you feel ambiguity? Treat me like a platonic friend. I don't mean to censor you--and I'm sorry to ask, but we need to find a way so it is good for both of us.

I got home from a date Saturday night and your e-mail (which was great, don't get me wrong), but you mentioned that you wouldn't need to alter your tone much if we were involved, and it just did a number on me and it makes it almost impossible for me to connect with another man because it is impossible that I'd have the intimacy with anyone else after a day or a week or a month that we have after over a year. And I can't just put my life on hold in hopes that a wind changes.

If the wind changes, then by all means, let me know and we'll see where I am at that point in my life. And if you ever care, if you want that pot to boil, and can think of ways to make it boil or test the temperature, go for it. But don't tell me your uncertainty.

Would that be something that would work for you OK? If not, what would work for you? I really do value you as a friend. I care about you a lot, and I don't want to be like arbitrary "this is the way it is." ...

You have been... less than forthcoming

Really? I absolutely thought in Sevilla I had been as straight forward with you as I've been with anyone ever.

a) I did not, did not, know that badly hurt was on the table - I cringe - you are the one person, with the possible exception of my sweet angelface baby sister, I would least like to hurt, and would never wish to put at risk of that

b) I definitely considered platonic friend the status quo and felt there was no harm done if we lingered there - I will positively electrocute myself if I've lead you on

c) I truly didn't realize it had become a concern that you might not develop with another what you and I had developed over time - though now I kick myself for not thinking of it

A) It's OK. If I get hurt, that's life. I'm a big girl. I know what I'm in for. I believe that you have to be willing to be hurt to live. The fact we're having this conversation is proof that I can take care of myself in that realm.

B) You just say things that make your ambiguity known. To me, if you say things that imply what you'd do if we were romantically involved, to me it sends a message that may not be what you meant.

C) That was why I told you over a year ago I couldn't be friends. I am inclined to believe that we have the ability to work through that, but I want to address it head on. With Edward, years and years ago, that is exactly what happened. I'm wiser than I was, but that was always the reason when I said I couldn't be your friend.

I am acutely aware of the honor you do me, Connie. I think of it every single day without fail. I know when I'm lucky.

I'm lucky to have someone to share with that I trust. But I don't want you to feel like if I bring stuff up it is a negative. It is actually something my father would love for me to do with him more than anything else on the planet!

"I'm lucky to have someone to share with that I trust."

Xeroxed my brain.

And who said anything you bring or have brought up is a negative?

I started to write: "I hope, believe and observe we are *better* than fine. Much if not all of our complaints fall into the category of "good problems to have". I persist in my unhurried approach. I acknowledge that you may respond to this as if it were a lack of zeal. I wish, without much expectation, that you could see it as a..." and then I paused and thought that oh, Connie, I do see what you want, I do see your unsatisfied craving, and I know you want a partner and I know my wait and see approach is not for you. I swear I never intended to leave you on the hook or disappoint you. And yet I cannot say "move on," because that is not my choice to make.

You know, this weekend, I very nearly, *very nearly* sent you a naughty email - knowing for a fact that you would like it - but I held back, as I always do, because I do not wish to start the sentence I can't finish.

I honestly had no idea you felt you were kept from something - I thought, perhaps, you felt you should... *pause*

I can't say still. I can't pause. I'll die inside. It will feed every single fear and insecurity I have. I remain open to possibilities. If those possibilities ever develop with you, I can't imagine ever wanting more.

But I can't put my life on hold and wait for you--I'd be impatient and frustrated. And frankly, I think I would drive you crazy.

I honestly don't think I'll find what I'm looking for. My biggest fear is I compromise again with someone like me ex, not in the same way, but compromise in a different way, and right when I start to get emotionally involved with him, it would seem like the two of us might have been a possibility and I live the rest of my life wondering what might have been.

All over town there are posters that say "He's Just Not That Into You."

Deep breaths, dear. Days don't matter. Or rather, the ones ahead do not matter as much as the ones behind. I am with you.

Only meant: no urgency, everything is fine, what we have is more valuable than what we risk...

Xoxo

Adore you,

John

And yet, this June:

I told you in the Christmas card that I assume you didn't get--I really did love you, John. So very much. More than I've ever loved anyone not in my family. You are absolutely lovable. And I really, really hope you find someone that you can trust and love and be loved. You deserve that.

Oh Connie, you're so sweet. Who knows how things might have developed had you possessed that kind of candor and bravery back in the window? You know the principal reason I held back was my worry that you were a wuss.

You have a selective memory. I kissed you once. And you turned it into a platonic kiss. And everything was on my blog. [n.b.: John had the URL and regularly read it earlier in our relationship. I asked to tell me either that he was or wasn't reading it, but he didn't and he evidently stopped reading it. I always assumed if he wanted to know how I felt, he would read it again.]

I am guilty of believing my recall is quite comprehensive on at least that and one or two more matters. I'm sorry, I didn't intend to commit some sort of topic necromancy. I was pretty sure we'd talked it to death. I'm not applying the wuss standard purely to the utter absence of courage and will, but to its insufficiency. Hahaha you were able to be open with me, just on your blog? I don't recall dating your blog :)

I'm sorry Connie, and I mean that sincerely, but my restraint was for your protection far more than it was for my own. I'm a bit of a rough ride, and you're a bit of a delicate flower. I often caught myself thinking you might emerge from your chrysalis at some point, which is why I kept (and I suppose in fairness keep) an eye on you. Two when I can spare them.

I knew that I was probably going to be hurt by you, because, for a while, I thought we were soul mates. Cheesy, yes. But true. (And truth be told, part of me is terrified I'll never meet someone I care about as much as you.) And when my friends said "he's going to hurt you" I said 'fine. The only way not to be hurt is to live in a bubble. I need to risk being vulnerable. And I'd rather deal with that, than not go for it." That was one of the bravest things I ever did. I gave so much of myself to you while you rejected me every single time. But whenever you said 'we need more time'--I believed you.

I also have to believe you knew I wanted to be with you. There's no way you didn't. The idea that if I uttered a magic word, when I threw myself at you, multiple times, that's silly. In an ideal world, we'd risk together. So when one person said "I adore you" the other would say "I adore you too." I risked and risked with you. I threw my dignity away and said "take me. I want you." You shouldn't demand that a woman say she loves you, when you aren't willing to return her statement saying "I adore you." It should be together. Not one person jumping off a cliff while the other one watches.

I want to be with someone who wants to be with me too. Not a hypothetical in the future. In actuality. Me. As I am. Flaws and all.

I did tell you I loved you once. I told you I loved you in a conversation where we were both talking about how neither of us believed we were lovable. I told you I loved you and you didn't say anything back.

So don't pin this all on me. It isn't my fault we didn't work out. Don't make me think "oh, if only I hadn't been a wuss." I think we didn't work out because each of us had fears and vulnerabilities that the other one interpreted as rejection at different moments. Either that, or you just weren't physically attracted to me.

John--I wanted some sort of closure with you. Some way to wish each other well. I do wish you well. And really support the other person in their life. To be perfectly honest, I still haven't moved on completely. I'm working on it. But I suppose, until someone touches me as deeply as you did, your impression remains with me. When I broke up with (the guy I dated last year), after nine months, I didn't miss him a bit; I thought of you. I never understood what happened. But I don't think you did either. It was just two flawed, beautiful humans in our flawed beauty. But don't say "if you had been different in this way, it would have worked." I have enough regrets in my life.

Reheated conversation, not unlike chili, sometimes tastes just as good if not better :)

YES, Connie, I have heard you!

- yes I know you spent a whole lot of time thinking that if you looked different things would be better. Yes, I really meant it when I said I liked the way you looked and didn't really care about that 1/1000ths as much as you did.

- Yes I know you thought I didn't trust you to enough to be vulnerable. Yes, I really meant it when I said that I did trust you enough, I just didn't happen to be vulnerable.

- Yes, I know you thought I was keeping you at a slight distance (loose/tight) because I was protecting myself. Yes, I really meant it when I said I was protecting you.

- hahaha YES, it's true that I caught you unready for something when I was rarin' to go. Yes, I really meant it when I said that this established a precedent in our interactions, and felt like I was *always* waiting for you to overcome just one more insecurity, just one more fear, just one more complex, just one more (to my mind) flimsy or imagined obstacle, which were it not for the respect I had (and have) for you, I would have just wrecking-balled through like the tissue paper I perceived each and every one of them to be. But not at your expense.

- I know you say you gave and risked so much, but putting your pinky toe within reach of the water splash is not the same as getting in the pool! Taping a feather to your head does not make you a chicken. Stated willingness to risk is not the same as actually doing it. Blogging your feelings is not the same as sharing them. You often behaved as if you were waiting for some sort of cosmic permission to simply trust me and trust yourself.

- Yes I know you had desire, and I hope you don't think I spent so much time with you because I was bored and needed something to do. I hope, and want very much to believe, that you know I was investing in the possibility of a future. But as above, desire to have something is not the same as capability. You think (yes, yes, a thousand times yes, I HEARD YOU) I was rejecting you, but really (as I said, sincerely, over and over) I was *waiting*.

- the flaws and all thing makes for excellent Lifetime, but in practice there are flaws which impact the viability of the project. If we were to surmount obstacles together, in a partnership, you needed to be able to *cash* those emotional checks you seemed so eager to write.

- and every time you attempted to throw away your dignity, I caught it and gave it back to you gently and with reverence.

*Whew*!

That certainly was exciting!

I love how fresh and alive this all feels (not kidding). You know, you can tell a real friend when you flip the calendar a few times and then pick up the conversation right where it left off :)

Proof we've been thinking of each other :)

Oh and another thing, while we're getting things out of our systems, I thought you were being really arrogant and that is something I have a wee spot of difficulty not going after with a bat. The precise calibration of self-perception is something I prize and respect as a fundamental virtue. Your particular bifurcation differs greatly from mine. In mine, I have come to appreciate that I am the meanest truly nice guy who ever walked the earth. I aspire to virtue, struggle to support the just, believe in anachronisms like honor and restraint and simple altruism. And I'm lucifer's personal hand of vengeance, sent down to strike the unworthy and laugh while he's doing it. I restrain the latter, until the former needs it to do right (or I get the very rare chance to take it out for recreational purposes, only when safe and responsible to do so) and otherwise I leave it in the toolbox.

You're different. Your halves are not *friends*. In some of your modes, you're wishing for the strength of another to gird you and encircle you, for another to lead so that you can be free from presenting an image you don't always feel. In others, you're dealing with the wish that you were stronger and smarter by pretending to be.

I let it go, a bunch of times, often with a mild admonishment quickly moved beyond. I'm sorry, Connie my dear, but what you think you know about the hard sciences you could put in a teacup with honey and hot water. You wouldn't know the first thing about economics if it jumped up and bit you in the face. Years of growing up with a psychologist (a fairly fringe-y one at that) have given you some terrible (and entrenched!) misconceptions about the way human beings think. Your sociology is trapped in a time machine stuck forty years in the past. Your politics are naïve to the point of auto-hate-the-other-guy and ALL of this I can dismiss with a pat on the head.

But the day any highly educated expert speaking on the subject of her own field refuses to explain her position and falls back to simple appeal to authority, actually expecting me to suspend my inquiry without an explanation simply because She Has Spoken, well, there's only so much I can put up with.

I was honestly, truly with you right up to that point. Up to that point I was willing to meander down many a fairly pointless path with you, simply because you were you, and I enjoyed picking daisies with you even though in the main I despised the picking of intellectual daisies as I hate hell and all Montagues. But it was you, and I would rather have been out picking daisies with you.

There were times, and they were many, during which I felt like you didn't entirely respect me. I am secure enough in my self-appraisal not to let that bother me... much. When you tried, for example, to educate me on the deflation spiral and I had to remind you that I read SEC filings for fun, I worried (briefly) that you thought I was much dumber than I am. But attempting a fundamental logic switcheroo on someone for whom logic is a medium of expression? I mean, I *think* in that language. From the base of your worst insecurities, and in defense of your greatest obfuscation of personal weakness, you insulted me. I got the clear impression that when it came time to prop up your fabricated mystique, you'd gladly throw your respect for me under a bus.

Something up with which I will not put. Yes, I understand you're trying to make sure you're respected as an equal. But the lady doth protest too much.

You lost respect for me, I lost respect for you. Fair trade. And it just so happened, life was full enough of its own weighty concerns that I quietly filed the matter under "things to deal with later".

Hmmm. Should I hit send? She's sounding pretty rugged, actually, which pleases me a great deal. I don't want to put cracks in her shell, but then again, I do want to be acknowledged as legitimately entitled to her respect. And I hope, hope, hope she can tell that the part I do *not* respect detracts not one molecule from the part I do. That believing myself to have some insight into her true character means that none of this bullshit is necessary. That if she has one place where she can truly be herself, "flaws and all," as it were, she should *do* so.

Because I will either a) snap down on a persona like a rat trap, or b) attempt, in my way, to deal with it gracefully by not dealing with it at all.

Hmmmm. Thinking thinking...

Oh well, fuck it.

I guess I was waiting for someone indication that you wanted to be in a romantic relationship with me. A kiss, I suppose. You were waiting for me to cash checks as much as I was waiting for you.

I wish you had taken the wrecking ball through the tissue.

Ah, well.

Tears.

Tissues.

Xanax.

Bed.

See, I could never do that, because that would put me at odds with one of your halves.

I could only reach one of them by damaging the other.

Please believe me, I wanted to take a fucking *machete* to the illusions and obstacles. But you worked so hard on them and still felt like you needed them in order to exist. I'm not going to blow your house down. If I did that, how could you know you could trust me?

Only in my restraint could you know that I cared. I would not embrace one half at the cost of the other. I would not embrace the strong, successful, entirely legitimate but incomplete Lady Chatterley, eligible bachelorette, world traveler, talented, glib, heroic... and leave innocent, vulnerable, delicate Connie out in the cold. I would not embrace the girl who longs for a Sir to keep her safe and love her, and show disrespect to the illustrious Lady Chatterley Esq.

Sadly, the only way I could show that I cared for you was by not giving either half what it wanted, because I, perhaps uniquely, perceive and care very much for *both*.

Hahaha and I wish you had been ready, truly ready, for the wrecking ball :)

I'm glad I got through everything. Somehow, or other, it seems to be helping. I realized that John and I could never have worked if I'd just been different. He would have had to have been different too. The things that bothered him, about my 'arrogance'--I really think that if that conversation had happened in person, or if he'd had a better day, it wouldn't have struck him that way. I did mention an accomplishment, but only in a "please don't put down my professional life" kind of way. He didn't reach out to me. He shut me off. There was a big fight we had in March of 2009, where he just refused to speak to me, and I sent him a copy of the e-mail about brainstorming how not to get hurt and said 'don't shut me out--you think I said something and I think I said something different--let's at least, please, talk through this.' And he did. But 2 weeks later, when he put down my professional life, I was pissed and hurt, and this his mother got sick and it all fell apart.

I never understood what happened. But I don't think he did either. It was just two flawed, beautiful humans in our flawed beauty.

I intend to actually reread my blog from the past few years, and I'm sure that will bring up some stuff. Then I want to write 2 more blog posts on this: one for what I'd like to say to John and one for what I'd like John to say to me.

And then, comes the next test. To appreciate John. To learn from John. And to let him go. Really and truly. He wanted me to be spectacular when I integrate, when I come out of my chrysalis. He wanted me to get cosmic permission to believe in myself. And I will do my best to do that.