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“I’m happy for you,” Leo whispered against my skin, trailing a line of kisses across my clavicle. It was Saturday night and we were in my bed. 

“Hm?” I asked. “Why’s that?”

It was late; I was just teetering on the precipice of sleep, a little drunk and otherwise exhausted. Oh top of having a long week, my apartment was packed: Pup’s and my roommate’s boyfriend hanging around and planning to sleep over, Leo was spending the night. Prior, he and I had taken a long hike and had a really nice dinner together, all accompanied by one of those vast, all-day kinds of conversations I love. We’d returned to my place to join Pup, our roommate, her boyfriend and another friend of ours for a silly night of boardgames and beers. He’s met my friends a few times before – and he and Pup get along famously – so the entire evening was an absolute blast. We’d all had a bit too much to drink, so Pup opted for the pullout couch (honestly, a poly lifesaver and one of our best investments, it’s more comfortable than our actual bed) and Leo and I took the bedroom.

“Your news. I’ve been thinking about it tonight,” he explained. “I’m happy for you, but I’ve decided I’m allowed to be sad.”

I’d been saving up the news that I am moving to a new city with Pup in six months for when I saw him in person. Though I’ve been slowly but enthusiastically getting around to sharing the news with people close to me, I noticed that this was the first time I actually felt a little twinge of melancholy in relating it. It was bittersweet. I’ve been a bit too busy to update you all on my life, but things have been going really, really well for us. 

“I feel the same way about myself,” I admitted. “If that makes any sense.”

That night, I’d looked around my tiny kitchen and saw, packed in around our little table, a cohort of some of the most important people to me. And I realized that, four years ago, I didn’t know any of them. 

In one of my favorite songs of his, David Bowie sings: “My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare/I had to cram so many things to store everything in there.” It’s a sentiment I’ve felt a lot lately, in taking into account the four years I’ve spent in this city. For as excited I am to move onto this new phase and the opportunities it holds, I have often become overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of the little life I’ve created for myself here. So much of my life here is no longer comprised of the things I brought with me when I first moved to this city. 

“I never knew I’d need so many people,” Bowie laments a few lines later, and I absolutely get it. Because, fuck, I am going to really miss all of this.

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nevver:

Make a run for it

Pup just got some incredible life/career-related news and I am the most excited ever for him. I’m waiting in an airport right now barely able to hold it together – I can’t wait to see him. I’m so proud.

However, this news means we’re probably moving to a new state. There’s the side of this that makes me a little anxious. Over the last four years in this city, I made a life. I lived alone for the first time. I fell in love with a place and with a person. I formed a circle of friends. I graduated from grad school and started a job I like (but am also kind of prepared to move on from and go into the next phase.) I made meaningful connections with partners.

So there’s the part of me that wonders if I’m willing to leave it behind and start again. And there’s the part of me – that is yelling louder, that feels right – that it’s time to start this new chapter of our lives together. It’ll push me to ask for more in my career than be complacent with my current situation. I can decide with my partners what feels worthwhile to keep going from (not all that) afar. (It is not as big of a move as it was from where I went to college to this city, not by a long-shot.) I never wanted to put down roots here. And I am young still and more in love with Pup than I am with this city.

And maybe, secretly, a little ready to move on.

We’ll see.

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So, I am going to be writing more sexy prose on this tumblr than sexy memoir/personal experience. This is basically how it’s been going on here, but the personal content will be cut down. 

I have decided to withdraw myself from the hookup scene for a little while. While I once found this aspect of my sexuality very freeing, it is right now not serving me the way it used to. This year has been rough for me. Some very close people to me have passed away, some issues have come up in my family, some relationships have been broken off or been strained and my academics are becoming incredibly difficult. While I am managing academically just fine, personally I have been under some duress. I do not want to be using my sexuality as a coping mechanism. It’s not healthy and it honestly ruins the experience.

Moreover, I have been debating some aspects of my relationship with the Southern Gentleman and how they are panning out. The issues are not of the nature of the material on this tumblr, so I will not be discussing them here. I am unsure if I want to continue a physical relationship with him.

However, I have left off of this tumblr the fact that I am owned. (Surpriseeee). Well, not entirely. There’s a lot of subtle hints, interactions, etc. We are not each others’ primaries, but I consider the relationship to be fairly healthy and admire him greatly as a friend and confidante. He has been incredibly supportive, flexible and kind through what has been going on. I may start to go a bit more into detail on my relationship with him on here. But, please don’t hold me to that.

With this in mind, I hope you’ll all still stick around. You’ll be getting most of the regularly broadcasted stuff, I promise. You’ve all really been supportive of me and, as I come up on the one-year anniversary of this tumblr, I am so grateful to have all of you here.

<3, Ivy