communication

I like when it begins with absentminded brushes of fingertips, the drawing of my leg against yours like frustrated tectonics, the wry grins over planned accidents.

I like when you touch my leg under the table or your hand lands on my thigh and I adjust myself so you can repeat the mistake. I’m a multiple offender of being over eager, but you’re a willing accessory.

I like when we both sort of quietly and politely pretend we don’t want it. There’s a word in some strange language for it, the way we both wait for the other to bring it up. But we both speak a strange dialect of badly constructed euphemism, peppered with the occasional outburst of something not for the dinner tables, but maybe for the bedrooms or that phoneless island community we create when it’s just us and our poor attempts at subtlety.

I have a very strong, very deep relationship with an ex-girlfriend of mine. Sometimes we get a little weird. Sometimes it greats unnecessary friction. But, then there are the points where it just keeps us close and there for each other. Like tonight.

We began the evening by catching the tail-end of the Black Friday madness and most of the stores had been long-plundered and cleared. We found it funny how, turning a corner and seeing a garment, we could predict that the other would gravitate toward it. I guess we’re just funny like that.

Afterwards, we wound up sitting around in her car and talking. She had bought a little piece of hooked metal that you put over your finger and run over peoples’ skin with. At first I thought it was silly, but feeling it on my own skin was amazing. I’ve been craving that sort of stuff lately and maybe it was a wrong move to let her show me, because it set me on edge a bit in terms of arousal. I guess it was partially the craving for something like that which made me so prone to vent about the current lifestyle-themed dramas I was experiencing.

As she showed it to me, we talked about being in the lifestyle, understanding ourselves, living this way. I told her how concerned I was about discovery and about my whole giving tree issue. Most of it was things she knew and had experienced first hand with me, but she listened nonetheless.

And then I got onto my growing insecurity about feeling like I was secondary to everyone. I almost started crying, I had not realized it bothered me so much. “It’s just, I feel like everyone has someone who would be there to get hit by a bus for them. And the thing is that I don’t feel like I have someone who would do that without thinking that taking the hit for me was less important than sticking around for someone else,” I told her. I shook my head, “I just sometimes can’t even picture myself being with someone.”

It wasn’t because of the issue of me not wanting to be with anyone. I almost feel like I’m not worthy of that sort of singular attention. It’s hard to explain the sort of inferiority complex I take on, and while it’s sometimes a deterrent from some potentially negative relationships, it can rear its head and be my worst enemy.

“I just don’t know anyone right now I’d honestly want to shack up with.” I knew I must have sounded silly. “And certainly none of them want to shack up with me. And I worry about being some lonely, slutty cat lady or just some sad case once my looks go.”

Even when I knew I was being foolish, she still listened. She was reassuring, comforting, understanding. For all the bravado, tumblr, sometimes I doubt and I worry. I fear I’ll stay too long at the fair and, when the lights go down and the rides stop and the music is cut, I’ll be left to walk home alone.

SG and I had our talk about the whole girlfriend debacle.

I told him, plain and simple, that I didn’t want any drama. No crying girlfriends, no misunderstandings, no discomfort. Or, at least, minimal discomfort. Also, I didn’t want my own interests to be completely swept under the carpet.

His reply was simple: “You weren’t even in question throughout this whole thing. We’re going to stay the same.”

I sure hope so.

But, for now, I’m relieved. I’m glad I spoke my mind and I’m glad to be able to express myself in terms of what I want.

In celebration – and due to prior plans – I went out with the girls. And it was grand.

Has this been an issue for me with partners in the past? Hell to the yeah. Terms are always a weird topic to go over. You feel so vulnerable presenting what you want. You’re not even sure it’s what you want half the time and you keep going over it in your head wondering if you can handle that or if that isn’t nearly enough. Terms of any kind of relationship are that way, I suppose. But when it comes to something of this nature, its “tabooness” and the associated discomfort factor in a lot. The emotional drain. The urges. The constant fluctuation of libido. The interplay of intention (for sexual gratification, for fun, for power, for love). It’s all a lot to handle.

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