Angst: The Pain of a Failing Lesbian Romance. Part #1

So, haven't blogged in ages. Feel the need to today. Just got back from a work party. Did not want to go, but dragged myself there, to make nice, show team spirit, and get home as quickly and painlessly as possible.

For some reason the party -- or maybe the painkillers for my back + the 2 glasses of wine = angst. Anyway, here I am. Feeling like I want something, but that I may not ever be able to get it. The thing that I want is illusive. Do I even know what it is?

I guess I want the new girl that I started seeing about a month ago. She is gorgeous. I had first noticed her on a friend's facebook album and wondered why I had never run into her. Then in August, I did run into her while waiting for a streetcar coming back from the beach. We both did a double take.

I said "I think I know you."
She said "yes."
She said "I like your glasses."
I said "I like your hair."

Then we tried to figure out how we knew each other. Eventually we tracked it down. We went to the beach one more time--this time together. We made out on the beach. It was so intense and romantic and electric. I thought she was a 6 foot tall stunning lady. I just wanted her attention. She is so beautiful and has a decent job--so I assumed she had her life together.

She noticed right away that I was married. We talked about it that time on the beach. She seemed, not thrilled, but fine with it. I gave her a bit of the run down in terms of boundaries. But obviously, this meant that she wanted to keep me at a distance, as she later said "you may be married, but I'll still fuck you."

Then her father unexpectedly died. She obviously needed time to mourn. I didn't see her for two months. But we did keep "poking" each other on fb and also on our cell phones. Literally writing "poke" back and forth. It was an easy way to show that we were both still interested. From time to time I'd invite her to things, and she would decline.

Then finally, I invited her to body blitz, an all woman's spa. She said she would go with me. So in early November we went. We managed to make out there--it was incredible. Then we went for food and back to her place.

At her place I got very stuffed up because I'm allergic to dust and cats. She has a cat and dust. But more than that, her place is very disorganized. The colours do not match. Things are all over the place. She is not on top of it. For some reason that is a huge trigger for me. After being at her place I feel depressed and oppressed and just want to retreat to my home. I feel like I can't wait to cleanse the memory of the space from my mind, and I just want to be in the peace of my own surroundings. It triggers a memory of a time when I was very undone, probably about 14 years ago. When I had dropped out of university and run away from home. It was a hard time of uncertainty and instability. And that is the very vibe I get when in her home.

That first time I was over we did not make out. I left because I was just so stuffed up. The second time I took decongestant before coming over. We had sex. But her body and mine did not meld like before. The third time I went over, some of her cum got on me and I felt myself turn green. It is not her, it is her apartment. But her apartment is a part of her.

I asked her to put up the full length mirror that she has leaning against a chair in the middle of her living room. She said that she tried to, but there were no hanging brackets on the back of the mirror. She lives across the street from a place that has every bit of hardware that she needs.

All of this is to say that I am guess that I hoped that her and I would have a relationship like I did with F. But I am mourning the fact that it is just not going to happen. I really like her. We have tons in common. I would love to have her with me at events. We have hot sex when it is not in her apartment. But, I can not get over the fact that she does not know how to have control of her personal environment. Or that she does not care about it. I think that she also gets a strong sense of my displeasure at her habits. She worried that I might be secretly posh. and she said that an event I had wanted to go to would not be clean or posh or glam. Like she thinks I am obsessed with cleanliness, being posh, and glamor. I just like things to be healthy and comfortable.

I think it is a bit of a generational issue. She is only 2 years older than me, but we grew up in the riot grrl time when women did not shave their legs, we did not wear makeup, we made ourselves as unattractive as possible, we thrifted for our most treasured belongings, we tried to be crass and open and generous. It was an oppositional feminism. Our subjectivity was formed when the pendulum was necessarily swinging to the far end of the acceptable femininity spectrum. We rejected everything that was traditionally relegated to the feminine sphere. So in that sense I understand her rejection of matching curtains, organized shoe racks, and closet space that holds all of your clothes.

She said that she wants to paint the place and buy interesting wall paper. I suggested that she also get more shelving. She was kind of offended, but I took that as her not getting it. The next time I saw her she had more paint chips and images of wall paper patterns that she likes. So a week later I sent her an email explaining that I would help her paint. She said that her cat needed a stable environment until he got neutered. I suggested that she buy boxes from staples to put some of the stuff that her friend who moved to Australia left with her. Then put a table cloth on top, and done. Don't need to look at the jumbles of stuff everyday. Just store it and use the boxes as a side table. She has not done any of it and seems to not appreciate my suggestions that she should do it.

All of this is to say that me, being who I am, can not have sex in her apartment. Her, being who she is, is not going to change. I can't expect her to change her approach to visual space. So, it is sad for me. I really hoped she would be the next fun, intimate relationship. Like the one I had with F.

But but but, she also made a comment that F would have never made. It was about my marriage. She said it was a tragedy that I was married. This hurt and offended me! I told her so. She said she meant that I should be free. That I should be with F or with her, that some woman should 'get' me. I said that I do not believe that sex makes all parts of a relationship. I've seen so many abusive relationships where the partners have the correct lables: either gender or ethnic or racial sameness that is desired. In the end the race, gender, ethnicity of the person does not make for a solid relationship. It is the minuta of day in and day out that needs to be peaceful and respectful. You need to share intellectual, political, and emotional temperaments and daily habits. I have that with my husband. I like having sex with him, it is not like sex with a woman. Not even close, but I love him more than anyone else on the planet. We 'get' each other. We share so many things together. We are partners. Forever. Some people just can't understand that. If they can't, then I certainly can't have a romantic relationship with them. It would just be impossible. Just like keeping broken furniture and bare light bulbs makes romance impossible for me.

Ah, the ways of the heart are so mysterious. I understand it all, but I still really really like her, so this hurts.

The Best Two Days Ever: 2 Girls and 6 Orgasms

Yesterday I hooked with up a lovely girl. I went to a queer people of colour event. A girl--let's call her S-- that I had been messaging on OKCupid, finally got back to me about a second date. This time she wanted to meet at the event. I was already planning to go. Initially I had reservations about S. She looked great online, but when we went out for a drink she looked like an 18 year old. Too young for me! But she was interesting, and it wasn't her fault she looked young. Two months later, I was finally ready to get it on with her. I had messaged her, but she didn't get back to me. Then, finally, this message.

At the event, I wasn't sure if I had a date with S. Since we hadn't arrived together and we hadn't discussed leaving together. I accidentally met up with her in the bathroom. After a short spell of witty banter I asked her if she wanted to come back to my place later. She said that she did. Excellent. We kissed a bit in the bathroom. Other friends came in. I acted normal. Talked to them. Later, I kissed another one of my friends. This NEVER happens to me. EVER before. I guess I was giving off some strong 'fuck me' signals. Anyway, I told my friend that I had a date. She got scared and said, 'she didn't see, did she? don't let her beat me up' I assured her that no one was going to beat her up. S had just kissed me for the first time 1 hour before, she has no rights to me. Anyway, I did manage to discretely leave with S. Some people probably noticed that we left together. One of her friends gave us a look for sure. But who cares? I needed to get laid.

So S was back at my place. We started making out as soon as we got in the door. We went straight to the bedroom. She said "I like nudity" I said "me too." We got naked. It was excellent. She had four orgasms. I was a little sore in the morning. We didn't have the chemistry that I had with my ex. But it didn't matter. I needed to get laid.

Today, I had a date with someone I met on Craigslist, let's call her M. Her ad was so cute. It said:

Attached? Me too!
Looking to meet someone mature/discreet for no strings attached fun.
I'm feminine, sweet, under 120 lbs, take pride in my appearence, and I hope you do too.
And, as if it shouldn't go without saying... men/couples need not reply.
Thank-you

Adorable, right? Well M was even more adorable in person. And even more adorable than that naked. She was excellent in bed. I really really enjoyed her. Two nights in a row! I'm so happy. She is actually attached. She didn't want to tell me too much about her personal life. Which was fine with me. Her boyfriend/father-of-her-child didn't know she was on a date with a woman.

They had previously had an open relationship. She slept with women on the side and he also slept with women on the side. They had a baby one year ago and at the time of her pregnancy they closed the relationship up. She was unable and uninterested in sleeping with others, and felt insecure about him sleeping with other women. Now that their daughter is a little older, she wants to be with women again, but she is reluctant to have him with women again. I totally understand how she feels. When she left her she was going to a party that she had told her boyfriend she was going to while he babysat. She thought I had the perfect situation. I get to sleep with women, but my husband, since he is straight, doesn't sleep with anyone else. Anyway, I hope she messages me again. She was hot. And she may love her husband, but M definitely loves to fuck women. She came twice and was as enthusiastic about reciprocating as any lesbian I've ever met.

Finding more Lesbian within Myself

It's been 3 months since she broke up with me.
I miss her. It still makes me feel queasy when I'm around her. But the acid reflux is gone. Thankfully.

I hooked up with a girl. It was fun. I felt sad afterward. I missed the woman I had dated for a year.

I talked to my husband about it. He gently tried to convince me that I did have fun with the random hookup. I did eventually decide that I had fun with her. She is beautiful, smart, caring. She is cool. But I miss the one I had been in an incredible relationship with. For me, sex gets better over time, as you get to know each other better. Over time you start to understand your own body and the other person's body in new ways. You know what they like, you know what you like. You know what that little nudge means, that gasp, that tremble. They can't fake it. You become in sync.

I watched a film a few days ago with my husband called The American. It is a European film, except for the fact that George Clooney is in it. One of the the women in the film, Violante Placido, is so hot.

break up

She broke up with me.
I've never been broken up with before. Ever.

Wake Up Call

I discovered these images today. The artist is Hu Ming. You can see her website here. In an essay about her work, the scholar Mabel Lee denies any lesbian content: "Hu Ming's women in this series of works are sensual but in no sense erotic, nor are they confronting. Beautiful breasts and beautiful buttocks are portrayed, but in frontal depictions the lower abdomen is always discretely covered. What exudes from these works is an unmistakable exuberance for life."

 Hu Ming, Wake up Call, 140 x 106 cm, Oil on Canvas, 2007

Checking in with myself

Well. First entry.

I've been meaning to write about this. So that I don't forget. So that others can read it and not feel as alone as I've felt. It shouldn't be confusing. It is not confusing for everyone. For me, I feel like it's a bit messy. There is joy. So it's not so bad. I can handle it. I just need to communicate about it. No one feels safe enough. Every one has their agenda. I worry that my straight friends would feel that I'm betraying my husband--who is their friend too and who is much loved. My lesbian friends have too much invested in my 'coming out' and their hope that I would leave my husband. I have a million acquaintances. I know a pretty good number of queers, but no one is safe enough; non-judgmental or non-controlling and non-invested or in this sensitive situation.