Move In

My wrist says OUTLAW POWER. Last night I drank two gin and tonics after a margarita and danced on a pole. I know he loves me. I never have to worry about that, and yet...a move like this, so quickly, after only three months -- WHAT IF I feel like I'm making myself so vulnerable, opening myself up to pain and I've had that. I'm no a real orphan, starving or anything like that, but I've had a life.

Do I trust this man not to hurt me? It says so much, how he treats his exes...he's sweet and wonderful and NICE, and everyone knows it. What if he leaves me? It's been eight months since Ethan and twenty-five since my dad, and this is a choice for me to make. He's in this. He makes bad jokes, but he loves me, crazy and all. I have to decide if I trust him enough to make this situation, this absurd set of circumstances, official. I know I love him because it would hurt so badly if he were gone. Although, is that how one defines love? He makes me happy, and I don't get tired of him. I can't imagine I ever would, but I fear that he will me. It's absurd. I want this. Through all three months I've screamed my fear and rushed headlong and sometimes tripped on my own laces and he's always caught me. He's there. He loves me. I don't have anything to fear. Just fall. He'll catch me.

Reasons

I write when I'm confused; I've been writing less because he makes me happy. "Smart, sexy, stable," that's what he called me. Just wanted me to stay in bed, with him. Thinks we should make this a daily thing, though he's not sure he can give me every night. I just think it's sweet that he'd offer, indicate that he'd want that. Olive, that fucking bitchcat. He's beautiful just out of the shower and asleep in the morning and UTTERLY MAGNIFICENT, even if he's terrible at goodbye kisses.

Thoughts

What should I do about Hot Rod? Obviously I'm not pursuing him in the same way as previously, but I'm trying to think of people I've bought dinner for, and it's mostly men I'm interested in/dating. Hmmmn. I haven't stepped over the line yet, except maybe with my loudmouth conversating and wearing a strapless dress to dinner. But! There's been no kissing, no touching except when he held the bike up for me while I tried to get started, and yeah that meant his hand on my ass. Certainly not something I'd have felt quite the same about Roommate doing.

Also, I certainly don't want to make Roommate uncomfortable, as I worry we did last night when I stole Hot Rod's wallet to keep him from paying for dinner. Jesus Christ, I don't understand men, though I ought to have guessed, from his impulse to open the door for me.

Plans and Angst

I feel like I'm making a mistake, but he's not running, or pushing me away. I asked if he could offer what I wanted, and he said as much as he wanted, he didn't think he could. I ought to back off, ought to leave him be, I know that. He said I oughtn't kiss him -- unless it were somehow an accident. Agh. He doesn't want to take any sort of responsibility for the way he makes me feel, for drinking apple juice and dancing downtown at 3am or pulling me in to sleep on his shoulder. He seems to want this, but no sort of responsibility. But the want...is that enough? I say I'm going to seduce him, but does that mean he'll realize he quite likes wrapping his arm around my waist, or that he'll realize he quite likes having someone to wrap his arm around, and it doesn't really matter that it's me?

I want to kiss him, to at some point buck my hips and pull off his shirt and bit his bottom lip while my whole mouth shivers. I want to drive him crazy, and I wonder if there's any chance he'll fall for me, or if I'm kidding myself. I think an organized system of seduction and silence. I want to tempt him, to intrigue him, to turn him on and make him mad (crazy).

We could die tomorrow. There is value in joy, and there is a chance that there will never be joy again. I can't regret kissing a beautiful man.

No matter how life turns out, I refuse to have regrets. I will kiss anyone I want.

Montage

Jeez, it's been a couple of days. Well, I had sex with Hardy and don't know whether to call that four or five, but who really cares? Turkic, I guess (ha!), but somehow I get the feeling he won't be seen around much. Finn, maybe, but I don't know that it's really his business. However.

Well, backing up. Friday my new corset (comic themed!) came in. I'd been chatting with Hardy all day and it came down to "if you're more direct, sure you can see it" which became me driving out to his place for movies. And, as it turns out, sex. Which -- I took along condoms, so it was a possibility, but I absolutely intended to leave that night. Yeah. So he made it clear he's not really looking for a relationship, and (I don't know how my brain works, but fuck this connection) to me that means there's nothing to ruin by having sex too early. Or something.

Anyway, I'd gotten advice from Pink that I need to stop spending time with Finn, and definitely not have sex with anyone until I have an actual relationship. Yeah, right. I spent that night at Hardy's house (mostly wanted to find out if the awkward lack of communication would go away with pillow talk, partly didn't feel like driving home) then left in the morning with a bit of groping and no kissing whatsoever. Huh.

Got home after donating plasma, in a bit of a mood. Not regretting the sex, 'cos whatever, but pissed off that it seemed like no man wants to get to know me or spend time with me, aside from what's required to bed me. Drank a bit, ordered sushi, and watched Law & Order. I have strange coping habits.

Got to talking to Finn, who it turns out was trying to fix Betsy (his truck), who's broken down. He was also in a bit of a mood, and probably would have slipped to sleep, except I really was sick of being alone in my state and so I told him I wanted company. He said I could come over.

And then. Me in a corset (same corset, different everything else), curled up to Finn watching Creep Show and yelling at the cat, just hearing about his day and scratching his back, and I got out the questions I wanted to ask -- most importantly how he felt about me getting asked out by other men, since that seems to be happening a lot lately, and he went into the sort of detail about a hypothetical situation that made me wonder if he'd read these posts or saw Hardy & I at the movies (very eerie, actually), but his answer was that I don't owe him any loyalty, could go pursue romantic entanglements to my heart's content, but that he'd still be here.

Jeez. Trying not to read into that, but it's hard, given how he makes me laugh.

And I have to backtrack a little to explain this next bit. In a fully-clothed moment I'd asked Hardy what he wanted, and he'd said "to fuck your brains out." Which he later admitted hadn't happened, so we'd have to try again sometime. Then with Finn inside me I asked what he wanted (hoping he'd come out and admit that it's me) and he said he had what he wanted (my lips on his dick, tits in his face, hands on my ass, and me moaning -- not all at once, obvs). Then he asked what I wanted, and out of curiosity, I said I wanted him to fuck my brains out.

Does that man ever take suggestions. Wow. In positions I probably wouldn't put on my Top 5 list he made my breath catch and my mind go fuzzy. In the end I screamed. For a bottom, he's such an impressive top it's not funny. It doesn't hurt that he sang "Car Wash" in the shower afterward, and just talks to me about whatever the hell.

And then. He got hungry and made a point to ask if he ought to cook or if he could impress me with frozen pizza and homemade cookies. So I drove to the store, which was probably the most entertaining Wal-Mart run I've ever been on, and maybe I was a little more handsy in public than I ought to have been, but he didn't say anything. We picked up frozen pizza and breadsticks and steam-in-a-bag veggies and went back to his place to make dinner. Which I didn't help much with, like a derp.

And we sat at the little table-for-two in his kitchen and he opened a bottle of wine and before that while the food was cooking we'd danced around the living room and he'd spun me and. Yes, he makes lovely cookies. He stuffed me full of food and made me laugh and danced with me, and he made the point more than once that he'd be doing the same thing if I hadn't been there, except he wouldn't have had use of my car, but.

Even though he finally kicked me out at 10:30 (after six hours of me camped out at his place) he moaned into my mouth at the end and then sent me a text about getting the mail. It's been a long time coming, but I think I'm falling for him. And I don't know what to do about that at all.

(I'd sent Hardy a message earlier in the day to the effect of "That was odd. What do you think?" and when I got home I saw he'd replied, basically, "I agree. Not sure what I want." I sent back "Take your time." Obviously I need to focus on Finn right now, no matter what Pink says.)

Jealous

"It would be hypocritical of me...""No good at relationships...""Don't want..." "Shouldn't have..."

I asked him if -- well, I told him, rather. He'd said ages back when this first started that he wouldn't be upset if I wanted to try things out again with Turkic, and at the time I rolled my eyes and laughed, but that's not the important part. I referenced this conversation, and said, "I'd want you to be upset."

And then he fell asleep. I was a bit peeved at this. Anyway, he woke up and explained the above whatever. Which upset me, I think naturally. Rather than say nothing and lay in his arms feeling hurt (a very strange situation) I tried to laugh at myself. I said I understood it logically, but the girlitude in me means that I can't help but hear that I'm not worth being jealous over.

Then he redeemed himself quite beautifully by saying, "When a man says he wouldn't be upset it means he would be upset..." and then something about how he shouldn't stand in the way of something that I want more. Anyway, he got a kiss for not being an asshole. And then we had a lovely conversation about the various sex organs and I kept him up for a while. Yeah, that part was good.

Rules

I'm drunk (tipsy, really, and tired) and I miss him, or at least his body next to mine, that warmth and the arm holding me, and I shouldn't want him, 'cos that's against the rules. Mutual horniness, that's what the rules are, and that's it. Some sleepovers, sure, and morning sex, and it's all lovely even if I'm a bit late to work and smell like sex, but missing him? This is hell.

I shouldn't want it, shouldn't want anybody at one-thirty in the morning except me, maybe. This feeling of attachment is dumb, and bad, and probably unhealthy. It only really works if I'm not attached -- and I don't know that this is working. Fuck. I just want him to hold me.

Fucked-Up Situation

I can't send this to you, but there's another man. There's a guy who's sweet and funny and just nerdy enough but I feel the space between us and it's fine. And you -- fuck, it's strange and weird to have even six inches, and you want me right there like I want to be. But you don't talk to me except when you drink and I feel alone and unwanted and YOU. What the hell do I do for wanting to be yours, and you don't even want anybody, just to be and maybe I'll be too and maybe. I don't know. I am all confused, all sorts of fucked-up. But despite all the hell I still want it and this is FUCKED-UP. Why can't you just be a little different, or why couldn't he be you? Why is it sour and harsh and acidic and cotton balls and razor blades? Why can't I just have you?

But still I want you.

Two of Them

Just because there are two - nice guys, I guess, does that mean there's really a choice? I don't know that it's comparable, though maybe it'd be easier if it were. There's one that I want, and that's lust and self-esteem but it's us both being fucked up individuals and no worries. Nothing to lose, it almost seems like. A bad decision and it's my fault if I get hurt again, but I know it's a bad decision, he's a bad idea and I want it anyway. And I think I'd wonder "what if..." 'cos when we're together it's - yes. And maybe that's the sex. Maybe that's the ego that I'm insecure and then I get what I want. But the insecure sucks. Is he ever going to be the guy who makes me feel confident? The other one is just there. I dunno if he wants to be there, but he is, and that means something. He's funny and nerdy and sweet - and maybe ridiculous. Maybe both of them are too young for me, at heart, at action, and maybe S is too down, too messed up inside and focused on himself, and it's like there's no room for me. But it feels. But it feels like he wants it, like the rough edges of us could fit together and slice each other up, and I'm selfish and I want. This is so fucked up and it seems so right - even if it's off the beaten path and over a cliff from where I thought I was supposed to be going. Maybe I'll fall in the water and almost drown and end up with somebody's suitcase caught on my ankle, but maybe I'll move along with the current and be just fine.

Getting Over

I am not focusing on you. You are just a guy -- who makes me feel happy and optimistic, sure. WHo makes me feel important and useful -- and I like that. I like. Hm. I don't know why I've gotten so attached. I guess I hadn't really moved on, if a couple words could pull me back. I guess I like the chase -- huh. You pissed me off because you made me question myself, and I feel redeemed, because now I can say that my thoughts at the time were accurate. I guess it's all about my ego, 'cos with Arch I had to accept that it wasn't going to happen so I tell myself that it was never going to happen, and you -- you admit that maybe you actually want this, and I jump at the idea, regardless of whether you're ready, and. I want to try this. Like an exotic alcohol, I got a sip once at a party and I'd like to own a bottle, even if I have to wait for it to come back in stock -- and fuck it but my metaphors are awesom. So. Maybe it turns out the aftertaste is nasty. Maybe it just won't be something I like. But I was upset because I thought I'd get the opportunity to find out, and then didn't. But. If I were waiting for curiosity to come back, I wouldn't dwell on that. Am I actually attracted to you, or just attached to an idea? Things wrong with you: vices, lack of communication/openness/trust -- let's write a letter.

Turkic,
I am giving you space right now. My brain is also running three hundred miles per minute on Nyquil, and you're the topic to be picked apart. It's that or the bags under Angela Merkel's eyes. So I wish you'd admit that I'm not some china doll that's gonna shatter and slice you up if you gave me some baggage to handle. Fuck it I guess it's not easy for you to trust -- which is weird. I'm...overt.

I don't even think I can share with you to help this trust thing along, because it's not as hard for me as it is for you. If I'm gonna prove that I can do the hard thing, probably leaving you be is the best bet. Because I'm no good at this. I mean, it's been twelve hours and I'm writing you a letter. 'Course, I won't send it. Probably. If you're going to open up, I'm around. If you're willing to think of me as something that adds a little happiness to your life rather than as a stressor -- hey, I'm here. Ich möchte dir, mein Kindheiterklären. I had it a lot better than many others. --- and worse than some. I know what hungry is like. I know what lonely is like. I know what rejection, what grief is. I've heard you've waded through more shit. A few months ago my sister went through something stupid, and bad, and I still don't know that she's grown up. Well, she hasn't. I don't know that she will. I wish you'd share a bit of your chaos -- but I guess I'm not in that place yet. I guess you don't know me well enough. It's weird, because I know me. And I'm pretty damn good with first impressions, and I think I get you, for the most part.

Huh. I guess I just want more -- and not more, but better details. I'm curious. I want to know your story. You interest me. You're very very different but somehow it feels like we come from a similar place. I'd like to explore that. I guess it all come back to curiosity. You've piqued my interest. The Nyquil is kicking in. My Deutsch ist wirklich besser, und ich bin sicher, und du bist sexy. Ich weiß nicht warum, weil du dick und älter bist, aber ich interessiere mich über dich. Ich habe interesse für deine Geschichte. Jeder hat eine Geschichte, und deine sofort, es zum wegnehmen, hat my interest piqued. I'm loopy. It's weird, and I didn't do this on purpose. Mrrgh yes I have a thought in the back of my head that sickness ends a break -- a moment without stress -- but I like it. Even unplanned.

Frustration

Frustrated and confused and a number of words that aren't tags. Music makes me think of him, even if it doesn't line up exactly. I'm grumpy, and hope he's what I hope he is.

Agh. I'm probably fucking things up. How the hell do I be a good partner without sacrificing myself?!

Through the Night

Approx. 1 a.m
I am hiding in the basement of CLB, hanging out with a bunch of grad students, ignoring Turkic. Trying to ignore him. Will I be broken up if we don't get along, don't work out? Mm...maybe. But I'm me, and I'm brilliant and beautiful and I'm surrounded by folks I like, so I'm sure I'll survive.
On an unrelated note, both Pink & Soprana are late. So, pregnancy test party? Seems pretty dang exciting.

...I don't know where that thought was going. I guess I'm just tired, and thinking of him. But I'm not going to call or text or chat. I'll let him get around to it. ARGH.

Approx. 4 a.m.
Need to get renter's insurance. Call insurance tomorrow. Speaking of calling, I changed my plan so I'm paying maybe $20 more per month, but shouldn't have to worry about overages. Took a bit of a nap. Still tired but much less so. Drinking Coke Zero. Planning to purchase: bread. Bumblebee Ready-to-Eat. A mattress (memory foam, 10"). A new computer (tablet + keyboard?). Renter's insurance. I really don't have the cash for extraneous purchases. But those bras & panties should come in next week, and I'm gonna flaunt them, whether or not Turkic & I have sorted our shit out. I dunno how I feel about his appearance. I've got no issue being out with him, or with Soprana. I guess I just know that Pink is shallow, and I don't want to have to defend him to my friends based on Facebook photos. I guess I'd prefer she see him in person and judge from the look on my face.

Approx. 4:30 a.m.
Why not just be single? Well, because I'm attracted to and enjoy the company of a particular kind of intelligent, compassionate man.

5:00 a.m.
I want to call him, but won't. I am going to distract myself for one more day, probably by sleeping, and then I'll survive Monday somehow. I'm allowed to give him a call Tuesday evening if he hasn't communicated before then. Hell. I really want this to work out.

To: You

I want to make bad decisions with you, and I want to enjoy it. I want to be able to say whatever the fuck without feeling like I'm tip-toeing over potato chips. I'm probably just going to succeed at freaking you out and coming on too strong. The hell with it. If there's one thing I've figured out lately it's that there are great men out there, who are smart and witty and sweet and sexy. I didn't even believe they existed before, but I'm smarter than Captain Ahab and I'm not going to bend my entire life around something that's never going to work.

So I'm the kind of girl that is on her way home at one a.m. and gives you a call because it'll make her smile, and not because she has anything useful to say.
I'm the kind of girl who hears you're drunk and has the impulse to ask what you really think of her, because fuck it but men are enigmas, and what the hell do you mean by "take things slower"?
I'm the kind of girl who says "I like you" a dozen times until it sounds like it's a lie, but mostly she's just surprised every time she realizes it and really doesn't want you to forget it, because just maybe it'll make you smile and that'd be worth it.
I'm the kind of girl who reads mattress reviews at three a.m. and then right when she's about to go to bed decides, "What the hell?" and even though she's tired and knows it's a bad idea, she likes to make bad decisions, and she likes it.
Because I don't know about you, but when I say I want open communication I mean I'm going to be up-front.
I know how to kiss you, and how to climb on top of you and sometimes I think I know how to make you come, though that still eludes me sometimes. I know how to have conversation across a room while working on homework. I know how to (badly) cook for you. I sortof know how to handle restaurant dates. I have no idea what else "take things slower" might entail, and I'm willing to try, but you've got to suggest something. I really don't know how to make this work.

And this - this undefined thing we've got going on? Undefined? Because I guess I misunderstood when I heard you say you thought the word 'girlfriend' was apt, and I just figured since we weren't having sex with anyone else and you were tossing around 'girlfriend' that that meant dating.

Which isn't a big deal, honestly. Labels are names, and you can call me 'Shirley' if we're both happy, but this example of confusion pisses me off. Where else am I running ahead of you, confusing things, mixing them up? I'm not the perfect woman. I'm irrational and stubborn and sometimes an insomniac and I've known you a week and am falling asleep typing this.

So let me know if you don't think you can handle it, or let me know what

"I feel dumb for calling you at one-fifteen."
"You shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"If I were sober I'd explain."

this conversation meant, because I'm curious. And whichever you pick, I'm sure I'll be happy and myself; hope you'll stay the same.

I have no idea how I feel about this.

I know that for anything resembling this to work in the long term I need to be able to take criticism. But this isn't criticism. Or, at least, it isn't packaged like criticism. It's packaged like "Wow you're the perfect woman. We should take this slower. I need to get my head on straight."

WHAT.

I guess it makes sense. I guess...I don't know. Less sex, which he's been rather good about. And impartial third-party atmospheres, which we've started to include more of. Slower. I don't know how the hell to do slower, but I really like "you're the perfect woman". Gotta hold onto those moments.

Thoughts In Class

Y'know, I need to figure out how I feel about this. Thee parts of a relationship: platonic, romantic, and sexual. We went to dinner and ice cream yesterday and I was very engaged in conversation the whole time, so that's the first. The last is clear - but what about 'romantic'? The emotional bit? Would I be okay with that? Because I know I like him; I get along well with him, but when does that bit come along? Will I be alright without it? Am I still in love with Arch? On the last bit, I don't think so? I spent a lot of time thinking he was the only one, and maybe that's what I was holding onto? But when I know there's something better for me out there - I feel thankful. That I didn't attach myself to him for the next eighty years...