“Let it pass; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Sensible Thing.
growth
“And the weather was so damn sick of being predictable; I heard it began snowing in the Sahara and I wanted to tell you that I’ve changed.” – Lang Leav
Hey tumblrinas,
I hope you rang in the new year in the way best befitting how you’d like to spend the rest of it. 2017 was, at turns, both incredible and exhausting. But I received some amazing career news the other day that I’ve been basking in all weekend. And it’s not a terrible note to start 2018 on in the least.
So here’s to doing good stuff, cutting out the bullshit, putting positivity out into the world and flipping the House of Representatives.
<3,
Ivy
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart; I am, I am, I am.” —Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar.
Pizza
Pup and I went out for celebratory pizza tonight because today was a very, very special day.
I mentioned back in February that we’re moving to a new city. Since then, we’ve found a fantastic place to live and started to firm up on the details of our move. Today, I sent in my acceptance for a job offer from a place I really, really, really wanted to work. Like it still hasn’t entirely sunk in yet because, ahhhh, omg guys.
I don’t want to get too specific, but this is meaningful work that has an actual, relevant real-world impact. There’s actual potential for me to advance in this field. Also, it’s the kind of work where once I walk out the door, I’m done until I come back the next day. (At my current job, it’s basically impossible not to take work home, such that I don’t have “real weekends.” It also involves a lot of unnecessary, basically unpaid emotional labor that I am pretty ready to be done with.)
I am so excited to do something with a tangible impact and to have more time for myself, for my social life, for my hobbies and for whatever the hell else. (Yeah, that means you, tumblr.)
Impulse, Part Nine
StandardLater on, after he’d played with Azure, Pup took me back upstairs into a different room. He put me on my hands and knees and slid inside me. “Look at that,” he murmured in my ear, “you’re still wet from him, baby.”
I’m not going to lie to you. Our poly isn’t always perfect, my life usually isn’t that sexy. For every Friday night spent in lingerie or some scanty costume at a play party are another three or four spent in sweatpants catching up on Netflix and doing laundry. But I had a great time, I did something brave and, after a really tough shit-constantly-happening-everything-going-wrong kind of year, I got back out there.
“Wear your skeleton on the inside out, and keep your insect heart a secret.” – Karen Russell, St. Lucy’s School for Girls Raised by Wolves.
Yesterday would have been Sir’s and my anniversary. In the spirit of trying to be friends, we decided to meet up for dinner.
I was super anxious leading up to it; I hadn’t seen him since we broke up, although we have been talking. We’re both seeing other people, but I was scared I would cry when I saw him or regret the whole thing instantly.
But seeing him come up the block to meet me last night, I was filled with warmth for him. It’s hard to explain. But I’ll say this: we spent most of the first half of our twenties together, and so in a way we grew up together. There were so many firsts and so many beautiful things that I shared with this man. And so when he came up and hugged me, all of my anxiety faded away and I was able to just enjoy him again.
It’s hard to talk about the “end” of this relationship – though it’s not really ended – on tumblr. He found me here, you all watched this relationship develop. You were there for all the good stuff and the awkward stuff and the brave stuff. I was nervous to share the bad stuff because it always felt like I might be disappointing someone, especially when I used to get asks from people basically saying they envied our relationship.
I’ve said it before here and I’ll repeat it: knowing how it all wound up, I’d do it again. Especially now, after the wonderful dinner we shared as people becoming something that feels like – and hopefully will be – dear friends. And I know it sounds strange, but breaking up may have been one of the best things we could have done for our relationship.
We were very good to each other. I think that’s what made this all right. There were some really hard and bad times. But in the end it’s overwhelmed by gratitude and warmth. I’m glad we did this right. I’m glad I loved him. I’m glad we tried as hard as we did. And I’m glad you’ve all been with us, join us on this really unexpected journey.
I promise, I’ll get back to the sexy stuff soon.
D is for Deer illustrated by W.F. White
Sir likes to say that my fantasies revolve a lot around being the ingénue. They involve innocence, reluctance, corruption. Within the context of a “scene” or “play,” I never initiate in my ideal scenario.
Call it a way of sublimating shame, maybe. Playing the reluctant victim implies I don’t actually have to own up to enjoying the disgusting things I like. Or it might just be that the idea of not being in control of my experience is kind of hot. But part of it, certainly, is the freedom to be unaccountable and immature.
Saltine showed up almost twenty minutes late for coffee. I considered it a power play until I saw the way they came in: sweatpants, glasses on, no makeup. Saltine’s the kind of person who can carry it off, which is a quality I’ve always envied in that type of person. If I do that, I just look like I’m sick.
But I realized what was really happening here. They ordered hot chocolate while I sat there with black coffee. They spun out on tangents about other people they’d dated, about foolish choices they’d made prior with people whose age and experience they equated with credibility and safety. And I understood why Saltine had annoyed me so much: they were the ingénue.
What’s more, from the things they told me, they were me. Not me at this point. But Saltine was nineteen years old now, just the way I was right around the time I started this blog, when I was at a point where I wanted to take control of myself and my sexuality, when in the past I had kind of been just stumbling around with it, throwing myself into things.
The conversation went well. They understood that I had different standards about boundaries and said they would respect them. And though I acknowledged it was unhealthy to project it on Saltine and I shouldn’t try to protect them, I told Pup that he and Saltine could sleep at my place after the play party.