Blackness of the Night

In the blackness of the night
I seem to wander endlessly
With a hope burning me out deep inside
I'm a fugitive.  Community has driven me out.
Of this bad, bad world I'm beginning to doubt.
I'm alone.  And there is no one by my side.

It's such an upbeat song for being so hopeless.  Sometimes, when things hurt too much, I roll down the windows at night, and drive very fast, with heat coming in through the floor vents and cold air on my face, and I cry and I sing along to this song.

So here's what precipitated tonight's blackness of the night moment:  there have been 3 men whom I have trusted enough to see the vulnerable wounded child deep inside (John, Steven and Bobby).  And all 3 men, with gentleness and loving kindness, got themselves far, far away from me.

All 3 saw me as a mix of a strong, public side and a very vulnerable, fragile wounded kid.  (It was Steven's description of me that made me think of myself that way, and Steven was during one of the John interludes, but John read it on the blog and started using that language as well.) And all three claimed I was something really special and basically said "I'm not good enough for you right now and I would hurt you."  (Actually Steven said something more like: I'm too old and I don't want to be young again.")

What if every man whom I trust enough to see my wounded, private self runs away?  I think the 3 guys weren't just blowing smoke. Two of the three wanted me in their life as a friend and Steven did to me what I did to Bobby and never had the strength to do to John--cut me out of his life because he wanted to get over me.

There is some evidence that the men were earnest.  John's family was under the impression we were engaged.  But they were awfully cold to me at his funeral.  Steven still sends me sweet notes once a year.  (Steven hurt less because he was in the process of wooing me, and I'm pretty sure I would have fallen for him over time, but there wasn't as much initial crackly feeling because he was quite a bit older.)

It makes me wonder if I should be more careful about whom I let see the private me.  If there is something so wrong with her that, fundamentally, makes me unlovable. In Salon.com today, a woman writes: "Our most meaningful connections with other people are often rooted in shared pain and vulnerabilities."  On one level I absolutely believe that, but on another, I wonder if my pain is just too vulnerable.  If it isn't scaring men away. Steven said he could never have fallen in love with me if he hadn't seen that side, but there are 2 sides to that private girl.  One is the emotionally vulnerable side that can write this blog and the other is the saucy 13-year-old that has hormones racing through her body.  I know the saucy-13-year-old is sexy.  Men like that side.  Ultimately, I would like to find someone who could see the part of me that writes this blog and not be terrified.  But maybe that isn't realistic.

Maybe I should get more cats.  Or a sexy corset, and some saucy photos, and not try for that level of connection before I marry someone and then he's trapped. 'Darling, you said until 'death do we part'--now here's my blog so you can see the real me' (insert wicked witch cackle).  But I can't imagine me being willing to be in a relationship, seriously, with someone who didn't hold this part of me, because if he doesn't know she exists, he wouldn't know how to protect her, and I would never get to see the vulnerable side of him.  That, to me, is still part of what defines intimacy to me.

Being Grown-up Sucks!

I have a couple of big things going on at work today.  The event today went SO well.  And I so wanted to tell Bobby about it, because he would have understood what it meant in a way that no one else in my life really gets.  And I have to file the report he read this week, and I SO want to call him and ask his thoughts.  In part because he's smart.  And in part because, well, he's sexy and I like him.  Moth, meet flame.

I joined alt.com (as an unpaid member, and their interface sucks) and a married, 63-year-old wrote me (after I told him I wasn't interested because I want the possibility of an LTR:

Hi again, and thank you for taking the time to respond.I would only like to say one thing before flying off into the realms of darkness in cyberspace.Your profile exhibited such care and thoughtfulness and originality and depth that my hunch is that it is not going to be easy to find what you are looking for. That is not to say you won't get a huge number of responses, but I wonder how many of them will convey in their manner and form of presentation something compatible of what you are ultimately looking for--marriage.Should you ever feel stymied in that or want to take a break from that particular search and quest, I still think I offered a response that could result in something considerably more--even if I am not marriageable. I can only ask that you copy and retain outside of alt our correspondence (since you will lose it in 30 days if a standard member, and if you upgrade to gold you have four months). I will even give you my private email should you be willing to save it. It is generic-married-man at yahoo dot com.I do wish you the very best. You are worthy of the very best and I would love to be a part of that process at some point along the way, should that be possible.

(Needless to say, that isn't his real e-mail.)

And what if this generic guy is right?  What if by being unable to settle for what Bobby might have offered.  Or David.  Or several other men in the last few years, I wind up alone.

I don't even consider this guy, the way I considered the hedge-fund manager who offered me access to power to make the world better (although I think he was bluffing).  And on one level, I know I would regret being with generic-married-man because it would mean I wasn't open to possibilities.  But it makes me very sad that he might possibly be right.

I want so badly to have someone to share my life with, to give my love and submission and wisdom and playfulness, who will cherish my silliness and the areas I'm blind and love me.  For me.  But I realize it is a very real possibility that I may never find that.  Even if it's not me.

And as for Bobby, I know I have to rip the band-aid off.  And in a week or two, I'll forget him.  But in the meanwhile, it hurts.  And I believe I have to feel that pain fully to get it through my system.  Otherwise, it becomes a layer in a mask that I won't be able to let down when I meet someone else that might be a real connection.  But it is hard.  Not truly madly deeply hard (one of my favorite movies of all time).  But hard, none-the-less.

Maybe I should go get more cats.

Blogging while drunk

Date was fine.  We went for a walk in John and my park, and I didn't even think about John until after.  Date said he wanted to see me again; I said I'd like that.  We'll see if he calls.  No one should get a name here until the 3rd date.  So we'll see.

Then I meant a very old friend of mine to work out at the gym.  We went out for dinner (and drank quite a bit) then to a bar for more.  I always drink too much with him. (He kind of pressures me to drink.)

They are showing porn on the large-screen tvs and the unbelievably cute bartender, wearing nothing but briefs (and brief briefs) flirts with me.  I'm enough of a fag hag to know it means nothing, but it is always nice the way gay men flirt.  It is sweet.  So many men flirt with me in that easy, gay-men/straight-women way.  The bouncer at the door checks my ID and pretends to think is fake.  There is a nice, easy affirmation.  A way of saying "you really are attractive.  If I were straight..."  It is playful, but there is an underlying warmth.

But I just have this realization that women are really just interchangeable.  I don't want to believe it.  But that is what it means to live in a patriarchy.  I think that falling in love is the process of realizing that one woman in the whole world is not interchangeable.  And then men fortify their hearts and we are once again interchangeable.  My gay male friends see men in much the same way.  (Ironically, my gay male friends do not see me as just a generic female.)  

I think that is why Bobby could let me go so easily.  It wasn't the right time to meet someone like me.  When it is the right time, he will meet someone else like me.  Why try so hard?  Fundamentally, there are different kinds of women, but there's always plenty more where that came from.

It is funny I assume Bobby doesn't read this.  However, the one area that multiple men have assured me that I am unique is through my writing.  I get men every day on CM who love my writing.  Usually they are married to vanilla women and wish they had waited for someone like me.  Usually they thought they could/would/should live without kink.  I don't understand how they made that choice.  Maybe it is because 'the talk' that my parents had with me included why you can't wait until your married and how important sexual compatibility is.

I have this one kind-of ex-friend.  She married a man she didn't love, and I was a bridesmaid at her wedding, because I felt obligated once she asked me to.  But I lost all respect for her for marrying for a house in the suburbs.  I have a house.I want to invite someone I love to share it.  But I can't view the men as interchangeable. The cynical part of me tries to.  But it is an act.  The sweet man today, if he calls and we go out again, well, he is more sweet and open.  Less hard.  It wouldn't be as sexy as Bobby.  I think.  But it could be warm and playful.  He kissed me goodbye on the cheek.  (Really!  We met on CM, and he kisses me goodbye on the cheek.)  But on one level, that is kind of sweet.  And clearly those first dates where I french kiss a guy rarely seem to work.  So maybe a cheek kiss makes sense.  Who knows?  I'm tipsy.  This is incoherent.  But "in vino, veritas" so it seems useful to blog.

Make-up

I'm meeting a new guy this afternoon.  I might like him (we had a good hour-long phone conversation).

I want to make a good impression, but I'm seriously considering not wearing make-up. When I met Bobby, I had hardly any on (because it was after I'd been driving a few hours and I thought I'd look fresher without it--I've never done that before).

I know for a fact, I look better with make-up.  I also know that make-up changes my personality just a little bit.  I can feel it on my face.  It makes me more self-conscious. A little more vulnerable.  Less confident and spontaneous.  I think I turn more into what a 'lady' should be, and less the woman I am.  I giggle, rather than laughing from my belly.

I only ever wear it when I'm dating.

I wonder what my dating would be like if I didn't try and be what I thought they wanted.  I wonder if I have the courage to just be me.

Sorry-Grateful. Regretful-Happy.

I slept well last night.

I'm so sorry I said goodbye to Bobby, and deeply clear that for me, being who I am, it was the right thing to do.

And I grateful to Bobby for being kind and open, even as I was telling him I wouldn't be his friend.  There is a clear sense of closure I've rarely had with other men (although John's funeral was clear closure, of a different kind).  John guilt-tripped me a huge amount about not wanting to be friends.  Bobby told me to trust my intuition when I said I didn't think I could be his friend, and that was so kind. I feel like we both have loving kindness for the other.  I've always wanted to be able to end relationships that way (even if I'd rather not end them).  (Although I notice that I've just lost all interest in David, and when he inevitably calls me in a week or 2, I'm going to blow him off.  I told him the intermittentness wasn't working for me.  He said he heard me, then disappeared again.)

Part of me wishes we had been clearer from the beginning because I think if we hadn't been so sexual the first day, we might have had a chance to be friends.  But I am also grateful to know so clearly that someone like him would be so attracted to someone like me.  And it was a magical day.  Part of me hopes he'll decided he wants me enough to quit the behaviour that is incompatible with being with me.  But part of me knows that isn't it.  He is where he is and if he can't change for himself, he can't change for another person.  But who knows, maybe our paths will cross one day in the future.  In the meanwhile, I have a date on Sunday.

Platonic friends and Platonic Ideals

So, Bobby and I had a good talk, and I told him I couldn't be his friend.  And it made me cry.  There it is.

It is entirely possible that I am taking the lens that was formed by my relationship with Edward and strengthened by my relationship with John; I wish I could be Bobby's friend. He said "I'm not John" to which I said "but I'm still me." I don't see how.

What I would see happening is that I would want Bobby to want to be with me enough to want to make changes that he has hinted he thinks he should make.  I wouldn't put my dating life on hold, because I would know that would be crazy and maybe dating would make him a little, not jealous, but interested and remind him he could lose me. But I wouldn't be emotionally open to the other men.  I'm really only capable of being emotionally open, on that level, with one man at a time.

Lately, I've had a lot of openness and joy in my life.  When I laugh, I laugh from my belly.  I seem to have worked through enough of my pain and disappointment that I feel more open and spontaneous and playful and joyous.  Bobby said I'm both strong and fragile, and I think that is true, and that openness, that joyousness, I feel like I have to protect it.  If I tried to be Bobby's friend, my joy would be constricted by a fake smile.  I couldn't just be myself with him, because I would want something more.

Slowly, Bobby not wanting to be with me, would make me doubt myself.  I think my inner-monologues would start to center on all the ways that I'm not the conventional ideal in our culture.  Platonic friends would make me dwell on Platonic ideals, and it would feed into my insecurities.

I wish I saw a way to break that cycle.  Telling Bobby goodbye made me cry. I have this deep sadness and this sense of being emotionally wobbly. But I also have a sense that I had to do it.  I couldn't give of myself in that way without giving something that I needed.  I feel like better one more good cry than that constant critical voice telling me 'if only you were more thin/less opinionated/less intense/more friendly/more interested in fashion/less smart' that has been such a constant in my life.  Because that critical voice is almost always linked to my being single.  I don't know how to unweave the two.

It is interesting that Bobby, John and Steven all saw me as a pretty extraordinary woman, who was not like 'the others.' And all three saw me as both strong and fragile/vulnerable in different areas.  And all three wanted to protect me from how they were with women in 'the scene.'  And all three chose not to get involved with me.  I hope someday I can meet someone who will think I'm pretty extraordinary and want to protect me by being with me.  At least Bobby implied it was issues he was working on.  John basically didn't think he was capable of keeping is derision in check.  So I feel like I've moved up just a bit in the relationship ladder to be interested in a guy who believes change is hypothetically possible, even if he doesn't know when.

Exhiliration

I got stuck biking in the rain. I moved my iPod shuffle to inside my bra, to try and keep it dry and accepted that everything else would be wet. Once I stopped resisting and accepted that I had no control, I had a great evening!

Music defined my ride. First we had Sertab:

So the video is ridiculously sexy (and I don't care if all the man-on-man slithering in oil is part of their culture; it is homoerotic).  But there is also something so right on about that song that I just love. The clarity and intensity.  The capability of owning myself and saying "Living in the here and now.  I'm strong enough to say: Here I am. I'll never run away. I have made my connection. Seen my reflection in you.  So here I am."  If I ever get married, I want to dance to that song.

I really have done a lot of emotional work to be capable of saying "I'll never run away."  It isn't easy.  John couldn't do it, because he was so busy believing he wasn't lovable that he couldn't give love.  Bobby wouldn't do it. But I can.  And I need someone who can match my intensity.

And then the rain started pouring down (and this was my iPod shuffle's pick of music!!!!)

I kept wiping the rain off my face and throat, and there would be more and I'd run my hand over my face again.  Roughly. One of the most sensual things I've done in public in a long time. All the rain drops all over my body, and the wind and the music and exercise.  I felt so alive.  It reminded me of Winona Ryder in V for Vendetta, having the rain come down everywhere.

I don't think of myself as a huge Madonna fan, but this came up as the perfect backdrop.

Is it too much to ask that my sex life live up to my sensual life?

When all the hurt inside of me comes out,

You understand

You see that I'm ferocious,

You see that I am weak

You see that I am silly,
And pretentious and a freak

But I don't feel too strange for you

Don't know exactly what you do

I think when love is pure you try

To understand the reasons why

And I prefer this mystery

It cancels out my misery

And gives me hope that there could be

A person that loves me for me.

I ended up doing an extra mile and felt alive on a cellular level

And then someone cut me off in traffic and I almost hit a pedestraian walking in the road, in the rain, at night, and I realized, there's just as many dangers in a sensual life as a sexual life.  And, of course, I'll take my bike out again this week, and not even remember the white mini-van that could have killed me.  It was probably more dangerous than anything that has happened in my life of kink and I won't remember tomorrow.  Both have their dangers.  I have a resilience in my sensual life that isn't present in my sexual life.  And when I have a bike ride like that it is a delight and a joy, but unexpected.  Maybe I just have standards that are too high.  Maybe I should settle and bifurcate and let go of demanding authentic engagement. The Real.  Maybe I'm like Stew, looking for something in life that can only be found in art.

The real is a construct
The raw nerve's private zone.
It's a personal sunset
You walk off into.  Alone.

But it was a thrilling bike ride!  I'm a little surprised my iPod didn't play Father figure, since it seemed to be hitting all my other rock buttons (my iPod shuffle only have rock on it).  And then as I was proofreading, a guy I've been e-mailing for a while called and we talked for about an hour.  He is a psychologist.  And a switch (that might be interesting...).  And we're having coffee on Sunday.  I have no idea if it will work, but it does seem that I will once again be infatuated with the possiblities of the unknown.

Recognizing my patterns

I was surprised to see that people are still reading one of the last posts I wrote about John (2 flawed beautiful humans). Someone must have linked to it from somewhere, because it is getting several hits a day every day. So I reread it, and I hadn't read any of our writing since the day I wrote that.

Wow, John and I were so mismatched. So very mismatched. And who knows what of that had to do with his brain damage. Obviously, I don't know when he was having strokes. He did tell me, scared, that he had forgotten our conversation about whether this was 'for keeps' and borrowing my ring, and I, being me, or maybe being a human female, felt like 'if he cared about me, he wouldn't forget something like that.' I don't think I blogged that much about the things that kept drawing me nearer to him, because he wasn't consistent and I didn't want him to look bad, even to an anonymous web audience.

And I can see patterns that I bring to my life.

I really don't deal well with uncertainty. I like things clear, focused, open. I want to know why I'm feeling something, and I want the people in my life to be clear as well. Bobby didn't reply to my e-mail yesterday, and I think there is a 99% chance that he got it and read it and is thinking and a 1% chance it ended up in his spam folder. But I want clear, open communication now! Gosh darn it! And my desire for clarity in a way can fuck things up because I spend time trying to figure things out, rather than just be. "Your epiphanies will become your fair-weather friends." Yet when the weather is fair, they feel like real friends.

Maybe I need to learn to be with a little of the uncertainty of life. But it feels like a fist in my stomach that I want to loosen and don't know how. All I can do right now is recognize it and try to send a little loving kindness there, rather than resisting it. But I really want to change it!

Yeah. Anxious

So, like the 4th time, I actually tried to be straight-forward and open with Bobby. And that didn't work! I mean, I'm sure he'll respond at some point, but it made me feel all anxious and icky inside. In a way that posting something that I knew he could read, but probably wouldn't until he got bored, didn't make me feel anxious.

Is it because I'm just not submissive here? This is my blog, my thoughts, my world, and I control it? I feel good about my own writing, and I think I'm working on some wisdom. I don't have anything to prove here. I'm not looking to anyone for approval or affirmation. (I recently figured out how to access stats, and I know I got 140 pageviews last month, and that was pretty affirming to me. I figured it would be like 2 pageviews. If 140 people are reading this, or 14 people are checking it 10 times a month, I like that. Thank you readers. I'm glad some of you are out there!) I'm coming from a place of confidence.

But I also told Bobby that while I thought we were in different places and nothing would work, I wanted to check my assumptions because I would like it if something did. Ooooh. Vulnerable! How does one have vulnerability and strength at the same time? I guess it is by knowing that I'll be fine if he says "yeah--not interested." I mean, I'll be sad. But I'll be fine.

And while I don't think it will be with Bobby, I practiced telling Bobby what I needed and he heard me! I am practicing an important skill that will serve me well.

And sooner or later, being open and clear, hopefully, it will make the sort of relationship possible. I will be ready to meet a man who could be a right man for me. So it is worth the anxiousness. And I'm glad I'm able to notice it, and say "yeah, anxiousness" instead of just going out for ice-cream. Or a pumpkin muffin. Or a cupcake. Or....

Yeah. Anxiousness.

Letting go of illusions and don't confuse it with dreams.

Oy. I tried to write Bobby directly and I couldn't do it! Why is it so much harder to have direct communication?

I guess part of it is the directness. Here, I say what I observe, what I feel, what I'm going to do. There are no demands. But to put it in an e-mail cuts out a level of removal. (His real name isn't even Bobby and mine isn't Constance. Shock!)

I think of myself as having good communication skills, but clearly there are very real limits.

I think that Bobby and I have no chance, but I feel like 'wow--too cool a human to not try and make it work! How few people there are on this planet that I click with on those levels--how could it not work?' But then there was a guy I dated after John and I broke up the first time, and I can only remember his real name--older guy, and he said he was in love with me, and I was clearly becoming smitten with him, and I thought 'if he is in love with me, how can we not make this work--isn't that everything?' and of course, it wasn't. He didn't want to be as young as I am--he wanted to get ready for retirement, and I wanted to maybe have kids. (I still want to maybe have kids. Not that it is for sure. But I think I want to.)

I also think that 'playing hard to get' is good advice for women. Not liking a guy seems to be the easiest way to make a man interested in me. But I hope that there are some men for whom that is not true. But, of course, giving Bobby the url was the opposite of that. It confirmed, in writing, that I do really like him.

But it doesn't change why it is easier to publish stuff for everyone, that one man might or might now read, as opposed to direct communication with one man.

I want to be the kind of person, in the kind of relationship, that supports open, honest, direct communication. But I want a life partner. I don't want to lie. I want kink. I want introspection and some respect for spiritual meanderings and intellect and playful kindness and warmth, and a sexy voice and someone who smells good. That seems like a very high bar, and I suppose I have to start figuring out which of those I can release. I don't even know which are the illusions and which are the dreams.

Darkish night of angst

Somehow, it seems when I have insomnia, well I always attribute it to relationship stuff.

And, so....

Damnit. Bobby made me feel like there is less I can compromise on. I really do want a relationship with someone who believes in personal growth, and can talk about that kind of stuff. And I sort of feel like that variable is very unlikely with kink. Maybe I'm wrong. But it seems statistically anomalous. Most of the "Dom" men I've men are so into being 'right' that they haven't done the dark-night-of-the-soul stuff. And most of the St. John of the Crosses of the world, I find them, well, they can't interest me sexually, but they can interest me on a vanilla, an introspective and an intellectual level. Maybe surrender can live only in fantasies.

I'll try (again--even though it hasn't worked before) having my sexual fantasies live only in my head. I'll start dating that way. I might sign up for vanilla speed dating this week and for another bike ride this Saturday. It is clearly the best way to meet men I've tried in a while, and I have fun and get out on a beautiful island. (This week's bike ride is only 60 miles (and they have pancakes at the start! How cool that I get an excuse to carb out, without worrying about what I'm eating for a day. Maybe I only want to do rides with good food in the future.)

The quality of the men I'm currently meeting on CM do not live up to the Bobby/John standard. Of course, I met them both there (and I won't pull down my profile). But then, neither of them worked out, and I met them 4 years apart. Maybe Bobby will, someday, want to give things a try. But for the moment, it feels like John all over again. This intense connection, a sense that things are going somewhere, and then.... I need to assume Bobby isn't interested in me; I can't spend a year hoping he'll change. If Bobby changes his mind, he knows where to find me. But in the meanwhile, it seems there is one less thing I'm compromising on, and that reduces the kind of guys I'll date by 100-fold.

And Bobby, since I assume someday when you're bored, you'll read this. ... Ack, this is exactly the sort of thing I didn't want to do; it feels manipulative or sloppy or something. The communication gets messy. I assume you'll read this. So then, I don't feel the need to tell you something because I've written it here (and it isn't something I'd tell you anyway), and I feel like if I do tell you, then I'm being needy and demanding because I've assumed you'll read it whether or not you do. And, of course, I don't feel like I can blog about you the same way because you could read it. But, I gave you the URL because, well, because I wasn't being clear enough in direct communication to you, perhaps? And perhaps I wanted you to know me better? And maybe I felt like you knowing what I was scared to say would make some sort of difference? Although what or why I thought, I don't know. I made my bed.... I wish I could sleep.

Getting out there

So I did a Century bike-ride today. And I ache all over.

There were different lengths to choose from --62 miles, 100 miles or 124 miles. I REALLY wanted to do a century. I do have this need to prove myself, to show that I'm capable. (I kind of wanted to do 124 miles, but I didn't think I could have, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have finished 124.) But I did do 100. I kind of wanted more of a sense of accomplishment. Intellectually I feel like "good for you" but emotionally, I don't know. I wanted something more--a gold medal maybe? A dispensation from God to strop trying to prove myself?

However, the very best part of the ride were the men. First of all, there were a lot more men then women and early on a very sweet man started talking to me, and then asked if we could ride together. He had only signed up to do 62 miles, but decided to keep my company on the entire ride. Then when we got to the finish (at a brewery), all these men were flirting with me! And, I might add, I was in bike shorts and a yoga top. Not necessarily the most flattering thing. The sweet guy asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. (I should add, I think he is 25, maybe 28 max, so I can't imagine anything would come of it. But he is Catholic--maybe he has tortured kink underneath?) We really had fun. Good conversation, supportive to each other, but also jokes and some mutual sharing. And then at the finish, it was nice to just have men coming out of the woodwork, wanting to flirt. It was really nice. It made me feel attractive and wanted, even in bike shorts. Maybe what I really need to do is learn to hang out in bars. If men are approaching me in bike shorts... Besides, I might have the energy to flirt back in a bar. (I was SO tired by the time we got to the finish, I didn't have the energy to flirt back.) I think of myself as outside the norm, and it is true in terms of kink and intellect, but not in terms of looks. But I still think of myself that way.

Hi Bobby....

So, I sent Bobby the URL, on an impulse, without thinking about it, because I knew if I thought about it, I'd never do it.

Why? Maybe Freud was right in assuming it was impossible to figure out what women want. I certainly don't know what I want.

I think it comes back to that line in Passing Strange: What does this feeling mean to you? Both to be seen and to be seen through."

I think this is the only place that I just completely let down my persona. It caused problems with John. And it allowed magic with John.

And, well, Bobby, intellectually, I don't think it will work. And emotionally, I'm not ready to not give it a try.

Where do I go? Follow the river...

So I tried talking to Bobby, and in the middle of the conversation (at least I thought it was the middle), he got a call on the other line and said "I'll call you back" and he didn't.

My guess is he got distracted with work, but I really hate this.

I wish I could just stop caring about him. Why can't I just take a little pill and go 'Poof! Bobby-who?'

I guess that is time. I keep being told it heals everything. And yet I still miss John sometimes, in these big waves. David Deida (about whom I have very mixed feelings) wrote something along the lines that a woman will always miss a man who is gone until someone else touches her that deeply. Bobby is the first man since John who was capable of touching me that deeply. We've been so much more intimate with each other.

Either I should stop talking to him at all, or I should tell him it annoyed me. I promised him, when I didn't give him this URL, that I would tell him when stuff bothers me once I figured it out.

But the thing is, the process of sharing my feelings and fears and yearnings is drawing me closer to him than sex ever would. (Well, sex, by itself.)

I think maybe we just want such different things that it doesn't make any sense to try and square this circle. And if that's the case, I should just let him go. At least, that's what my head says. My heart says it is worth giving a chance to see what might come. But my head just thinks that's nonsense. Yet another form of bifurcation. I wish I didn't take all this so seriously. I wish I could 'play' and not care about the people I play with. I wish I didn't wish for clarity so much!

Knowing what I should do, and aching not to...

Sleeping on it (or not, as the case may be), it seems clear I need to let Bobby go.

On several occasions he had broached the idea of us being friends. He clearly wants me in his life (wow, this sounds like John at many points and frankly Edward (is that the name I gave him? Very good, vanilla, friend of long ago). I wonder if I'm doing something to create a pattern where I bring men into my life who so clearly want me as a 'friend,' and who are clearly attracted to me (as I am to them) but don't want to make a romantic/sexual commitment. I don't know what I'd be doing, but I am the common factor in those relationships. Or maybe humanity is the common factor and I shouldn't try and figure out what is wrong with me for having flawed, human connection.)

Anyway, I kind of nixed the "friends" idea yesterday during the following text message exchange:

I love the way you say sir--it's so sexy the way you say it.. And as a Dominant I have certainly heard it a lot:-).

Well, you make me feel very sexy. Maybe it is silly to pretend that we could be platonic friends.

I don't think it is silly given our intellectual similarities. But I know what you mean.

Can you imagine neither of us wanting to have sex with the other? I can't imagine being with you and not aching for your touch.

No actually. That is probably impossible

At which point I asked him to invite me up for the weekend. And then he told me he has play subs and 'one true slave.'

I hadn't realized how important the way he spoke about the woman who broke his heart last year has been to me. But it was clear that he was open, vulnerable, able to commit. He was willing to have both a long-distance relationship and a future family with her, which felt to me like he was saying "these things were not obstacles in the past" and I took that to mean "and therefore they don't have to be obstacles in the future."

It feels to me like now he is filling his life with 'play subs.' Or maybe his 'one true slave' is all he wants. But it feels to me like part of him wants more than that, or he wouldn't have spent so much time with me, clearly wanting the introversion and the intellectual connection as well. I thought he wanted to be able to combine intellect and introversion with kink, but maybe he can bifurcate those parts of himself with different people. Maybe I have to bifurcate those parts of myself as well.

I think part of him wants what he could have had with the woman who broke up with him and hurt him. But filling his life with women that he doesn't have as strong an intellectual or introspective connection will keep him from getting hurt again.

But I can't change him. I can only figure out what I need to do. And I can't be friends with him. I just can't. I can't imagine trying to make something work with David, or any other guy, if I have Bobby in my life.

If only I could bifurcate my life that way. I know I could have kink in one room and a vanilla relationship in another, and maybe even an intellectual and introspective connection in a Bobby room. But I SO want to be able to combine those. I don't want to lie to people. Eros, for me, is about those parts all being OK at the same time. If I can't combine those with one person, I can't do the intellectual and introspective thing with Bobby because it would sabotage any chance I might have with someone in the future, even if it were just romance and kink. I couldn't ask a man to be with me, knowing that I had such a powerful connection with Bobby. Part of me would be hoping he would come around.

I don't think I would hurt him, I honestly think we might have the possibility of 'for keeps' (as John used to say), I think I can only be with a man who is open to the possibility of being hurt again.

Maybe it is time to give Bobby the URL. I didn't want to give him my blog address if we were going to be together. (He is actually the first man since John who even knew I had a blog.) I wanted a place to work through my feelings. But I also told him I would tell him if I had figured out how I was feeling. And I guess I've figured it out. But I'll try and sleep a little more and see if this sits right in my stomach.

"Someone else's desires get lodged in your brain."

So Bobby and I had a good talk. It is clear he has several gals he is involved with. My sense is that they aren't all that serious, but he doesn't necessarily want something serious. He didn't intend to meet someone like me right now. There is distance, and there is (although he didn't say it--I'm reading into it), not wanting something serious right now.

I made it clear (and he agreed) that the thought of us being friends wouldn't work. I had thought maybe it could, but every time we talk, we flirt. We both think the other is incredibly sexy. The fact that we both respect the other's intellect and we can share on an introspective level doesn't mitigate the fact that we'd like to rip each other's clothes off. He, I think, really wanted to believe we could be friends. I tend to see heart break on that road.

Part of me wants to tell Bobby that I just want to be his, whatever that looks like. I've never tried poly--maybe I could make it work? But I think I'm too greedy for that. It isn't so much the thought of him sleeping with other gals, it is wanting more than he'd give, and understanding if it was work or family, but not if it was a pet. Part of me thinks, give it a try. I want him so badly, it hurts. But. But. But. But. But. But.

But what of those buts are someone else's desires?

But I know I do want to have at least one child. Maybe get married. Is that incompatible? The first time we met, Bobby said things that made me think he was open to having kids. He talked about this woman he was in love with, who broke his heart. Having the subs he's fooling around with seems very much at odds with the way he presented himself when we first met. I guess that's always the case.

Meanwhile, David and I are flirting on-line. I don't know where it is going. I don't know what to do. David has said he'd like to have kids with me. And David and I work sexually. And I think he'd be a great father, although I think there are times I'd want him to take more responsibility(shock). And I wouldn't have to try and talk him into something. Come January, we'll be living in the same metropolitan area. But I don't get the sense he'd ever be interested in my writing. I mean, maybe a bit, but not the same way. I don't feel like he has personal growth as a goal. He feels very focused on doing what needs to be done, but not anything that had the word 'meta' in front of it.

Maybe I should just drop them both and try to find someone else entirely. Or see them both, and another guy too (no one in particular, just because 3s are always nice) and try to get over my desire for a single anything. There's a nice switch guy I'm talking with. Several other Doms. Maybe I should just let both Bobby and David go and hope there are plenty of fish.

I wish I knew how to turn my life into a work of art, and still have the same intense connectedness I yearn for.

Houdini

Well, Bobby disappeared. I suppose, hypothetically, it is possible that he'll reappear, but I doubt it. And if he does, well, I don't know. It hurts me way too much when men just disappear. I get a sense that men and women view time differently, but he didn't return a text I sent last night, so I'm pretty sure he has blown me off. I'm a little bewildered as to what happened.

On Tuesday, I lost it at work. A contractor fucked up and I lost it and cried. I haven't cried like that in public since I was 16. Usually I get angry, cold, or dictatorial, but everything was going wrong, contractor's A's mistakes meant contractor B couldn't finish on time, which meant contractor C, etc, and I saw some things slipping out of my grasp. Surprisingly, the contractor M found a way to make it better, after he saw me run to the ladies room and heard me crying.

I felt like I had been manipulative. I've never been that woman who uses tears to get what I want. I hardly ever let anyone see my cry. I felt like I'd lost control and I didn't want to get my way that way, but I was also so grateful that things got fixed.

I told Bobby what had happened, and he hasn't texted, emailed or called since. I can't really believe that that is 'what I did wrong,' and if it is, well bullet dodged. At least I think that, but I don't feel it. I keep feeling 'I'll change!" He has shared having difficulties, and we've both shared issues we've worked through in the past. I keep second and third guessing everything. I told him my favorite Broadway show of the last decade was Passing Strange and he said he would get it on DVD. Maybe he was offended by it? (Bobby is African-American, and the show is about an African-American guy, but it is by an African-American guy and Spike Lee filmed it, so I don't think that it really would have offended him so much he'd never want to talk to me again--indeed, I can't really think what would have been so offensive. That can't be it. But there must be something? I want there to be something, because then I could change it. Not do it again. Not fuck up the next relationship.)

It makes me very, very sad. Truly Madly Deeply Sad. I so liked him. I really did. I don't understand, and not understanding makes me feel like this will always happen.

"I'm neurotic. He's neurotic. She's neurotic. They're neurotic. We're neurotic."

I'm totally smitten with Bobby, and he keeps mostly showing up. But he was gone all weekend (with his daughter for a final before-school holiday), but said he'd call me late tonight. And he didn't. And he went on Collarme.

So there's two issues: not doing what he said he'd do and going on CM. As far as I can see it, I have no business whatsoever with what he does on CM. At the same time, if he hadn't gone on, I'd assume he got in late and didn't have the energy to talk. But if he has the energy to go on CM, I want him to want to use that energy to call me.

Part of it is messed up because there's concert tickets going on-sale at midnight, so I'm up later than I would be. And I don't want to be jealous. I don't even really want him to know that I checked to see if he'd been on CM. But I do check when he disappears on me.

I feel like 70% of this is my neuroses. I'm used to men disappearing on me and so that is a lens I use to understand the world. And that lens will become a self-fulfilling prophecy if I want it to. If I become jealous or controlling, well, why the hell wouldn't he leave?

I'm not so much trying to control what he does with his life as wanting more from him, and I know how limited his time and energy are right now. I also know (intellectually, but not emotionally) that it takes a lot less energy to go on CM than to have a long Connie-Bobby conversation (which usually go over an hour). Of course, he will see other people (as I sort of am, but my heart isn't in it at the moment).

I think I can tell him, when he calls, which he eventually will (cause he texted me this morning to tell me he was looking forward to talking to me and while I texted him back, there was nothing I said that could have scared him away) "hey--if you can't call when you think you will, I'd love a text." The thing is, I don't know if that is clingy or not. Intellectually, I think it is OK. But I just don't know. I'll feel around it. But for the moment, I'm sad.

(And, for the record, I do pour all my neuroses here (or at least those of which I'm aware) primarily so I can explore them in a place that hopefully is safe and they won't bite me. If you knew me in real life, I'm really not this neurotic. Or I am, but you'd never know it. My closest friend was shocked to see me walk into a REALLY crowded mall-store sale with her today, take 2 steps and say "I'll wait for you at the car" because I knew I couldn't deal with the mall store without killing a little piece of my soul. It was so crowded. I wouldn't have been able to breathe. She's known me for 4 years and never knew I had such a strong aversion to crowded shopping places. I do try to keep my neuroses in check.)