So I haven't written about it much, but I've been spending time with the Viking lately. It's not exactly habitual yet, although it's getting there. And we've moved past just the convenient post-hanging out in a group hookups to blatant booty calls. Which are always fun. And it's actually been a while since I've had a regular booty call, especially here at school. Which is weird to think about, but I guess it's true.
This weekend, it was my friend's girlfriend's birthday... Hmm, how to explain the relationship without using names? OK. My best friend in The Band (and one of my best friends in general) is the drummer of the band. I went to Ireland with he and his girlfriend last semester, and she and I get along great. The Band consists of the Drummer and his five roommates, although the actual band is four guys, only two of whom live in the house of guys that makes up The Band. Anyway, the Drummer's girlfriend invited me out for her birthday with most of The Band - she and I were the only girls. We went to a swanky sushi restaurant, and as the ice has finally receded here in the tundra, I got to get dressed up. I went with a teeny, tiny green dress (worn last on new year's eve), and fabulous green and black heels that have an adorable rounded, wing-tip toe. The Viking (who's the other roommate who is actually in the band - he plays bass) met the rest of us after dinner for bar-hopping.
I was terribly over-dressed for the pubs we were going to, but after a few drinks, I wasn't too concerned. And in any case, it was really fun to watch the Viking stealing looks at me. (I'll admit, those shoes DO make my legs look pretty fantastic.) We still haven't told our friends about us hooking up - although I have mentioned it to the Drummer's girlfriend, so there's a chance the Drummer knows. If he does, though, he hasn't said anything about it. We all (six of us by that point) eventually closed down the last bar and took the bus back to my apartment. The Drummer and his girlfriend and the Viking and I all sat in the back row. Of course, the Drummer and his girlfriend were being adorable and PDA-y, although thankfully not to a nauseating extent. Then somehow the Drummer and the Viking started jokingly punching each other. It turned into a psuedo-wrestling match. The Drummer eventually conceded that even though he's the taller of the pair, the Viking is stronger than he is. And then there was the bromance moment where the Drummer got all mushy and was telling the Viking that he was, like, his best friend, and he's such a great guy, and the Viking reiterated the sentiment. And then I got this strange feeling. Of warm fuzzies. Of course, the only reason I know the Viking is because he's such good friends with the Drummer, but I had this random flashback to when the Drummer first introduced me to his girlfriend. She had to leave Ireland a day early, giving the Drummer and I the day to hang out alone, and he confessed to me that he'd been really nervous about us liking one another, and he was so happy that we got along so well. Because we both mattered in his life. It was this really nice moment. And that's what I flashed back to, watching the Viking and the Drummer act out their friendship.
It was very strange. It made me want to just cuddle with the Viking right there, be all adorable and PDA-y like the Drummer and his girlfriend were being. And I suddenly felt very silly for thinking that I needed to keep our relationship a secret. Of course, I didn't say anything about it there, on the bus with everyone else. But it was a new sensation at the same time that it made me aware of the fact that I'd been looking forward to seeing the Viking all night, and that I'd noticed how he smiled when he saw me. And that I liked the way he said my name. And then I stopped myself. I don't get mushy like this.
I don't generally like PDA. It makes me uncomfortable, more often than not. I'm not used to having traditionally legitimate relationships, and so I guess I've gotten cautious and that urge to kiss people in public has mostly faded. (Not entirely...there are notable exceptions. Like my random and somewhat childish desire to be that obnoxiously cute couple cuddling in line at the amusement park.) But even more than that, I don't like the mush. I don't like the cutesy stuff. Saying "I love you" should be a statement of fact, not some massive production in my book. I expect to split the bill on dates. I don't want people opening doors for me unless they already would have or just walked through it themselves.
But it's something that's struck me since the first time I hooked up with the Viking. He's really sweet to me. Yes, there's the funny bluntness, the no-nonsense discussion that's always there, and the sex. But the things that really stick with me are the way he puts his arms around me. The way he gently kisses my neck, my forehead, my nose. The way he intertwines his fingers with mine and pulls me closer before we fall asleep. The way he sweeps my hair away from my face and lets his hand linger on my jawline as he kisses me.
These aren't things I should be focusing on. It's not that I've never had them before, I've just not been so aware of them. And I don't know why I am so aware of them with the Viking. Certainly, other partners cuddle with me, other partner kiss me softly or brush the hair from my face. So what's so different with the Viking? Maybe it's just a contrast with his aloof personality. I don't expect such tenderness from him.
Then again, I guess looking at me, knowing me, you wouldn't necessarily expect that I'd want those things, either. Maybe that's why it works. But it concerns me. I find myself wanting to see him more. I text him more often, not always late at night. I get excited when I know he's going to be where I am. Good lord, I'm developing a crush on him. Shit. Of course, it's not overly serious, and things will end when we both graduate shortly. But this urge that I have to spend more time with him now is rather strange to me.
And then I'm not sure how much of this has to do with the fact that at the end of that night, after he'd convinced me to come back to their house with the band, and after the Drummer had made up the couch for me and the Viking had waited til the Drummer left to come in and ask if I'd sleep in his bed with him, and I'd said yes and made a joke we'd both laughed at about his messy room, and I laid down and the Viking just wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck and pulled me close to him and let me sleep. We spent the night in bed together and there was nothing else. There was no pressure for anything else. Why does that feel so much more intimate and personal than had there been sex? It just seems like another step further from the just-a-booty-call classification.
But it was nice. I WILL miss his cuddling. And yes, those adorable little things I told myself I don't care about. Shit.
Showing posts with label FwB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FwB. Show all posts
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
a girl like that
It's been a long weekend.
Today, there was an article on the front page of the LA Times about my cousin who was murdered. It was well-written, though I wish they had quoted more sources, to get an idea about just how many people she touched. But there are some beautiful photos of her. And there are photos of the corner where she was murdered. I hadn't seen those yet. They aren't crime scene photos or anything of the like, but being able to visualize exactly where she was killed... that was harder than I imagined it would be.
Yesterday was the campus memorial for my classmate who committed suicide while we were in Spain together. Again, hard to see photos of her, hear people speak of her, see frat boys in tears and know she isn't there to comfort them. Or any of us.
And the day before that, I fucked my best friend here at school. We'll call him Bear, for a nickname I call him. Usually, that wouldn't be such a big deal, but he and I have a different friendship than many of my others. For one, he wanted to save himself for marriage. He and I hooked up about a year ago - a night of kissing, nudity and some oral sex, but no intercourse - and he got a little weird after that. We joke about it sometimes. Then, while I was in Spain, he had sex with some girl. He knew her from before, but it was a rather spontaneous decision and, to quote him, he "just wanted to get it over with." He called me immediately after. International long-distance, on his cell phone. He didn't know how to process it. He said he didn't really enjoy it, and couldn't see what all the fuss was about. He said he now felt he could actually wait til marriage, and that sex just didn't matter.
Then, on Thursday, he came back to my apartment, as he often does when we go out drinking. (He's an RA and although he's 23, of course doesn't want his residents to see him drunk.) We climbed into my bed, like we usually do. And started kissing. Which is unusual for us. We weren't shit-faced drunk, and actually talked about it, first. And decided we were going to have sex. (Apparently, in his mind, the only thing making him wait at all was that he wasn't sure if I had any condoms.) And then we did. We got home at 2am, and went to bed at 730 in the morning. The sex itself was good. He liked when I took charge, which isn't something I usually do, but this time it felt right. And then he'd be in charge. You should see my neck - he leaves DARK marks. They're STILL black. And all over my neck, and my tits, and there are even a few bruises on my arms from his hands. I wasn't expecting that from him. In my mind, he was essentially a virgin - and in my experience, virgins aren't often so... forceful.
I know this isn't as graphic as I sometimes am. I think it's because I'm not totally comfortable with what happened yet. Well, not exactly with what happened, but more with what that means. We had the Talk today. He apologized for springing it on me when I was dealing with other things, but I knew it needed to happen. We talked through what we were feeling: He's hung up on the fact that he thinks he would actually like to date me, but his family (and he) has a problem with him dating a white girl, and he knows I'm bad at relationships, and we're both moving away in four months. And I'm not sure why things feel so different with him. I still don't want a boyfriend, but I have trouble being able to file him in the friends-with-benefits, or even lovers -who-I-love, file that people like Jacob and Friend fit so perfectly into. Things are more complicated with Bear.
So I still don't know what to do. For now, I'm listening to a lot of music. And still thinking about Kirsten, because I can't escape it. And it makes everything else seem less important. I called my parents today. My dad is funding a trip to the City next week and weekend so I can see my friends there, one of whom also knew Kirsten. I need to be away from school for a little bit. Be away from everything, be somewhere I feel fabulous. That means the City, for me. Or home. But the City is MUCH easier to get to. So I'll be heading there this Thursday. Hopefully when I come back, my head will be clear.
As my iTunes was on shuffle today, I stumbled upon this song, which I don't listen to much. But as soon as I heard it, I had to replay it four times, until I had all the words memorized. It seems to describe me so perfectly. There may be another post about my conversation with Bear, and about his honest questions as to why I believe I'm always the problem in every one of my relationships. It breaks my heart a little when he's so... naive, I guess. I just don't want to hurt him, too.
But I AM a girl like that.
Today, there was an article on the front page of the LA Times about my cousin who was murdered. It was well-written, though I wish they had quoted more sources, to get an idea about just how many people she touched. But there are some beautiful photos of her. And there are photos of the corner where she was murdered. I hadn't seen those yet. They aren't crime scene photos or anything of the like, but being able to visualize exactly where she was killed... that was harder than I imagined it would be.
Yesterday was the campus memorial for my classmate who committed suicide while we were in Spain together. Again, hard to see photos of her, hear people speak of her, see frat boys in tears and know she isn't there to comfort them. Or any of us.
And the day before that, I fucked my best friend here at school. We'll call him Bear, for a nickname I call him. Usually, that wouldn't be such a big deal, but he and I have a different friendship than many of my others. For one, he wanted to save himself for marriage. He and I hooked up about a year ago - a night of kissing, nudity and some oral sex, but no intercourse - and he got a little weird after that. We joke about it sometimes. Then, while I was in Spain, he had sex with some girl. He knew her from before, but it was a rather spontaneous decision and, to quote him, he "just wanted to get it over with." He called me immediately after. International long-distance, on his cell phone. He didn't know how to process it. He said he didn't really enjoy it, and couldn't see what all the fuss was about. He said he now felt he could actually wait til marriage, and that sex just didn't matter.
Then, on Thursday, he came back to my apartment, as he often does when we go out drinking. (He's an RA and although he's 23, of course doesn't want his residents to see him drunk.) We climbed into my bed, like we usually do. And started kissing. Which is unusual for us. We weren't shit-faced drunk, and actually talked about it, first. And decided we were going to have sex. (Apparently, in his mind, the only thing making him wait at all was that he wasn't sure if I had any condoms.) And then we did. We got home at 2am, and went to bed at 730 in the morning. The sex itself was good. He liked when I took charge, which isn't something I usually do, but this time it felt right. And then he'd be in charge. You should see my neck - he leaves DARK marks. They're STILL black. And all over my neck, and my tits, and there are even a few bruises on my arms from his hands. I wasn't expecting that from him. In my mind, he was essentially a virgin - and in my experience, virgins aren't often so... forceful.
I know this isn't as graphic as I sometimes am. I think it's because I'm not totally comfortable with what happened yet. Well, not exactly with what happened, but more with what that means. We had the Talk today. He apologized for springing it on me when I was dealing with other things, but I knew it needed to happen. We talked through what we were feeling: He's hung up on the fact that he thinks he would actually like to date me, but his family (and he) has a problem with him dating a white girl, and he knows I'm bad at relationships, and we're both moving away in four months. And I'm not sure why things feel so different with him. I still don't want a boyfriend, but I have trouble being able to file him in the friends-with-benefits, or even lovers -who-I-love, file that people like Jacob and Friend fit so perfectly into. Things are more complicated with Bear.
So I still don't know what to do. For now, I'm listening to a lot of music. And still thinking about Kirsten, because I can't escape it. And it makes everything else seem less important. I called my parents today. My dad is funding a trip to the City next week and weekend so I can see my friends there, one of whom also knew Kirsten. I need to be away from school for a little bit. Be away from everything, be somewhere I feel fabulous. That means the City, for me. Or home. But the City is MUCH easier to get to. So I'll be heading there this Thursday. Hopefully when I come back, my head will be clear.
As my iTunes was on shuffle today, I stumbled upon this song, which I don't listen to much. But as soon as I heard it, I had to replay it four times, until I had all the words memorized. It seems to describe me so perfectly. There may be another post about my conversation with Bear, and about his honest questions as to why I believe I'm always the problem in every one of my relationships. It breaks my heart a little when he's so... naive, I guess. I just don't want to hurt him, too.
But I AM a girl like that.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Friend. Or, being easy.
Now, now, don't jump to conclusions with the double entendre. I mean, yes, it was intentional. But mostly a joke. Anyway, on to the ranting.
I was lucky enough to spend a good amount of time with Friend this past break. He and I keep in touch regularly online, and indeed, he was instrumental in helping me work through the tough shit in Spain, but I'm never sure that friendships will carry over as well in real life. (Edit: I knew Friend in real life first. We just ALSO chat regularly online when I'm not where he is.) Real life is trickier. There are more complications.
But that didn't happen. There were no complications. And I guess I should expect that by now.
Because when I talk about being easy, yes, there is an element of the raunchy implication, because, let's face it, we both ARE easy. But it's also just very easy between the two of us. I don't ever have to try to be someone I'm not. He knows that I'm weird, and quirky, and random and sometimes really stupid, but I'm not the least bit scared that he's going to stop liking me.
I realized over the past month spent together how much I really do like him. And admitted to myself that it's entirely possible that I have very real feelings for him. It was one of those things that became apparent as I realized how much I looked forward to seeing him and the strange little mannerisms I've come to expect. Little things like how he never misses a chance to respond telling me he loves me, even when I'm being sarcastic and snarky - "Oh, shut your face. You know I love you." His response, every time, with a smile that reaches to his tone, "I love you too." Nothing epic about it, just very matter-of-fact. I know it isn't something reserved for just me, but it makes me happy to be valued like that. Other little things, like how he is so incredibly goofy... In ways I don't even want to describe, because they are some of my fondest memories of this break and I want to be selfish and keep them to myself. And like how when we're together, our banter is non-stop and strange and wonderful and sounds slightly reminiscent of a quick-witted, overly intelligent sitcom or drama that would get cancelled because only a small portion of the population got the jokes. Doesn't make them any less funny.
And then there are the big things. Like how well he understands me. Physically, yes, but emotionally and mentally, too. Although he is undoubtedly much smarter than I am, I never feel stupid around him. Indeed, spending time with him makes me feel smarter by association, I suppose. Like how he takes my insecurities in stride, without trivializing them. They are, also, matter-of-fact with him. While I was stuck in my head, over-analyzing and making myself nervous, he calmly took my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. Even-toned, he simply said "Hey, it's just me." Usually, that would evoke a rant about how "Well, of course it's you, that's why I'm so nervous!" and so on and so forth, but it didn't. I took a deep breath, and calmed down.
He talks to me about things. And listens when I talk back. And we can bounce our crazy relationship ideas off one another, and get overly excited about them. In another breath, we can talk about the other relationships both of us have. There is no bitterness, no jealousy. Every time I think I SHOULD be getting jealous, I'm reminded that I've never once felt like I was getting the short end of the stick with him. The attention he pays me doesn't suffer because he's seeing someone else, also. I have never felt cheated out of his attention. Sometimes we don't respond to each other's messages right away, and we both know that's OK. We joke that we're full-disclosure friends, which is true. And he is one of my few, mostly because he isn't connected to the same circles I am, so I can speak without fear of repercussions. Anyway, we know we're in a state of mutually assured destruction if one of us betrayed the others' trust.
It's not that things are totally flawless. We're both human. Mistakes are made. But then we talk about it. Openly. Clear up misunderstandings. Without blowouts. Usually with some laughter, and I can't remember a time it involved tears. Not that I'd be uncomfortable crying around him. But everything is so logical and open that it's never been needed.
Usually, when I realize how much I care about the person, and especially if things at least begin as a FWB situation, this is the point I start feeling like things need to change in the relationship. Like I need to solidify the relationship with a title, or an exclusivity clause, or at least a proclamation of my feelings. Technically, this is precisely the moment I find myself in in regards to Friend.
Except that I don't want anything to change. Maybe it's because he already knows how I feel. Because I've told him in the full-disclosure nature of our friendship. Maybe it's because I don't feel cheated by the fact that I'm not the only one getting his attention. Which is encouraging that I really DO believe that one person's relationship doesn't have to have any bearing at all on any other relationships that person is involved in. This is the most vividly I've ever put this into practice. Of course, it also confirms my belief that for non-monogamy to work, not only is communication and honesty key, but so are the RIGHT partners. I can't imagine this relationship working this way with anyone else I've been with. I don't know anyone else who I can half-seriously joke about how we're better suited to marry each other than anyone else we know, and 15 seconds later, talk about our OTHER significant others.
The only thing I worry about is if things WILL change. When I move back to the same general area he's in, and we see each other for more than a few isolated and separated months of the year. Some of it is a fear that he'll get sick of me, but then sometimes I think that's crazy. Sometimes I worry that the reason we work so well together, and that our crazy non-monogamy schemes (which makes it sound much less consensual than it actually is) only work because we aren't around each other enough to have another option. I don't know if he and I could make a "traditional" relationship work. I don't know if we'd want to.
Of course, most of these are pithy concerns. And I know things will work themselves out, just as they always do, especially with him. Again, seems to be a consequence of that whole honesty and full-disclosure thing. Makes it much harder to surprise and hurt the other person. Maybe I should try it in more aspects of my life.
And now I should probably apologize for the hideous self-involvement in this post. It had very little to do with anything that doesn't pertain, specifically and individually, to my life. But classes have started, which means I should be getting back into the more intellectually stimulating material shortly. Thank you to those of you who actually read this whole thing. I promise there will be an HNT this week, also.
I was lucky enough to spend a good amount of time with Friend this past break. He and I keep in touch regularly online, and indeed, he was instrumental in helping me work through the tough shit in Spain, but I'm never sure that friendships will carry over as well in real life. (Edit: I knew Friend in real life first. We just ALSO chat regularly online when I'm not where he is.) Real life is trickier. There are more complications.
But that didn't happen. There were no complications. And I guess I should expect that by now.
Because when I talk about being easy, yes, there is an element of the raunchy implication, because, let's face it, we both ARE easy. But it's also just very easy between the two of us. I don't ever have to try to be someone I'm not. He knows that I'm weird, and quirky, and random and sometimes really stupid, but I'm not the least bit scared that he's going to stop liking me.
I realized over the past month spent together how much I really do like him. And admitted to myself that it's entirely possible that I have very real feelings for him. It was one of those things that became apparent as I realized how much I looked forward to seeing him and the strange little mannerisms I've come to expect. Little things like how he never misses a chance to respond telling me he loves me, even when I'm being sarcastic and snarky - "Oh, shut your face. You know I love you." His response, every time, with a smile that reaches to his tone, "I love you too." Nothing epic about it, just very matter-of-fact. I know it isn't something reserved for just me, but it makes me happy to be valued like that. Other little things, like how he is so incredibly goofy... In ways I don't even want to describe, because they are some of my fondest memories of this break and I want to be selfish and keep them to myself. And like how when we're together, our banter is non-stop and strange and wonderful and sounds slightly reminiscent of a quick-witted, overly intelligent sitcom or drama that would get cancelled because only a small portion of the population got the jokes. Doesn't make them any less funny.
And then there are the big things. Like how well he understands me. Physically, yes, but emotionally and mentally, too. Although he is undoubtedly much smarter than I am, I never feel stupid around him. Indeed, spending time with him makes me feel smarter by association, I suppose. Like how he takes my insecurities in stride, without trivializing them. They are, also, matter-of-fact with him. While I was stuck in my head, over-analyzing and making myself nervous, he calmly took my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. Even-toned, he simply said "Hey, it's just me." Usually, that would evoke a rant about how "Well, of course it's you, that's why I'm so nervous!" and so on and so forth, but it didn't. I took a deep breath, and calmed down.
He talks to me about things. And listens when I talk back. And we can bounce our crazy relationship ideas off one another, and get overly excited about them. In another breath, we can talk about the other relationships both of us have. There is no bitterness, no jealousy. Every time I think I SHOULD be getting jealous, I'm reminded that I've never once felt like I was getting the short end of the stick with him. The attention he pays me doesn't suffer because he's seeing someone else, also. I have never felt cheated out of his attention. Sometimes we don't respond to each other's messages right away, and we both know that's OK. We joke that we're full-disclosure friends, which is true. And he is one of my few, mostly because he isn't connected to the same circles I am, so I can speak without fear of repercussions. Anyway, we know we're in a state of mutually assured destruction if one of us betrayed the others' trust.
It's not that things are totally flawless. We're both human. Mistakes are made. But then we talk about it. Openly. Clear up misunderstandings. Without blowouts. Usually with some laughter, and I can't remember a time it involved tears. Not that I'd be uncomfortable crying around him. But everything is so logical and open that it's never been needed.
Usually, when I realize how much I care about the person, and especially if things at least begin as a FWB situation, this is the point I start feeling like things need to change in the relationship. Like I need to solidify the relationship with a title, or an exclusivity clause, or at least a proclamation of my feelings. Technically, this is precisely the moment I find myself in in regards to Friend.
Except that I don't want anything to change. Maybe it's because he already knows how I feel. Because I've told him in the full-disclosure nature of our friendship. Maybe it's because I don't feel cheated by the fact that I'm not the only one getting his attention. Which is encouraging that I really DO believe that one person's relationship doesn't have to have any bearing at all on any other relationships that person is involved in. This is the most vividly I've ever put this into practice. Of course, it also confirms my belief that for non-monogamy to work, not only is communication and honesty key, but so are the RIGHT partners. I can't imagine this relationship working this way with anyone else I've been with. I don't know anyone else who I can half-seriously joke about how we're better suited to marry each other than anyone else we know, and 15 seconds later, talk about our OTHER significant others.
The only thing I worry about is if things WILL change. When I move back to the same general area he's in, and we see each other for more than a few isolated and separated months of the year. Some of it is a fear that he'll get sick of me, but then sometimes I think that's crazy. Sometimes I worry that the reason we work so well together, and that our crazy non-monogamy schemes (which makes it sound much less consensual than it actually is) only work because we aren't around each other enough to have another option. I don't know if he and I could make a "traditional" relationship work. I don't know if we'd want to.
Of course, most of these are pithy concerns. And I know things will work themselves out, just as they always do, especially with him. Again, seems to be a consequence of that whole honesty and full-disclosure thing. Makes it much harder to surprise and hurt the other person. Maybe I should try it in more aspects of my life.
And now I should probably apologize for the hideous self-involvement in this post. It had very little to do with anything that doesn't pertain, specifically and individually, to my life. But classes have started, which means I should be getting back into the more intellectually stimulating material shortly. Thank you to those of you who actually read this whole thing. I promise there will be an HNT this week, also.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
hotsexyloveness
I spent a LONG time talking to an old friend online a day or so ago. We're talking multiple hours here. I've written about him before, but he doesn't have a nickname here. Perhaps he'll get one, although this post isn't so much about him as it is the conversation we had. And how it got me thinking. (Not that that's something unusual for our conversations.) He and I have discussed in the past our mutual tendency away from monogamy and our dislike of the automatically supposed imposition of the concept.
Through the course of our conversation, we started talking about three-way relationships. Not necessarily threesomes, sexually. (Although there was some sufficiently hot verbal visualization of such encounters, which will absolutely be fodder for the next time I get some me-time. God, I'm a sucker for well-written words.) Instead, the conversation focused on establishing a long-term, three-way relationship. We both agreed that the idea of having TWO people to give and recieve that love, affection, and attention from and for sounds like an genuinely appealing idea. Obviously, this can only work in very specific scenarios, and we differed a little on what kind of things we would each expect from such a relationship. I said I think I'd want two people who knew me as well as he or some of my other dear friends do, whereas he pointed out that some learning and exploration can be a good thing. I'm fascinated by the idea of really making such a relationship work.
I think it could remove the stress that I've felt in other open relationships, where, even with permission, there can still be a nagging feeling that I'm doing something dishonest. In my experience, more traditionally open relationships are generally on a "don't ask, don't tell" basis - in that neither partner wants to hear details of the other's extra-relational affairs, but needs to know that they're going on, and that everyone is being safe, etc., etc. But I think, were there three people involved in the relationship, mutually, that would, on the one front, satisfy the desire to have sex with more than one person (which, who are we kidding, is something I most definitely have to consider with myself), while still build the kind of connection that I think is increasingly difficult to establish outside of some kind of emotional relationship. Not everything would have to be done together - people could pair off for events, take nights off, basically do whatever they wanted, of course. I do think it gets a little sticky there, though, because that's the point I start worrying about jealousy. If boy and girl (he's straight, so we were discussing FMF scenarios, but I'm open to other combinations as well, of course. Granted, there seems to be a shortage of bisexual men in my life. Which makes me sad sometimes. Anyway, back on track...) want to go out to dinner, but I have other plans, well, then, no big deal. By the same token, if I'm really feeling that I need a woman's touch that night, well, then girl and I take some time to ourselves sans boy.
But, Sasha, how do you know they wouldn't establish a stronger connection and eventually push you out? I don't, of course. At the same time, I tend to not get particularly jealous once I know how someone feels about me. It's the time before I'm sure that I'm fiercely protective of my time with someone. Take the current obsession, for example - I'm not sure how he feels about me, but when he invites me out with him, and then some drunken trip-mate steals him for an hour to ramble at him and dance with him, my face flushes and my eyes get greener. (A sure sign I'm angry, upset, or, as those of you who've been with me know, turned on. In that case, it was the former, obviously.) At the same time, the idea (or reality) of non-boyfriend being with other girls, talking to other women, spending time on other people, didn't bother me. I knew he liked me, I knew he wanted to spend (at least some of his) time with me, and so it didn't matter what else he did.
Of course, all this was discussed with Friend. We talked about how people go about avoiding jealousy, and about what jealousy actually is. Here was his idea: "Jealousy is a result of a breach of contract, but in this case, there's no breach, and therefore, no jealousy." Yes, I realize it's never that simple, but it is a strikingly reasonable way to look at it. And I think there's some merit to it. Because, yes, I get most angry and hurt when someone doesn't do what they've promised me they would. When they go back on their word. But in this scenario, if their word involved loving me AND someone else, as it would for me and for the third person, well, then there really isn't much to be jealous of.
There was more exploring of the idea. (Literally, we spent an ENTIRE night discussing this.) Trying to figure out if this would be any harder, or easier than a "traditional" relationship. And came to this conclusion: Relationships are inherently hard. It doesn't matter who is involved, or how many people, or how queer or straight or kinky or vanilla any of the participants are, relationships of any kind, and certainly those of value, take work, maintenance and compromise. So I don't know that I'd believe that this kind of relationship would be any harder than any other. Granted, it might not be any easier, either, but Friend and I both acknowledged that it might be more honest to ourselves than trying to make our trangularness fit into the round hole, so to speak.
Basically, I don't think there is necessarily some natural human tendency towards pairings of two. I do believe that humans are social creatures, and that we desire love, affection, companionship. But I don't see why that precludes getting those things from more than one other person. It's a founding reason of my views on monogamy, and since I embraced that, I've had generally better relationships. I just hadn't thought to apply it in a broader sense until this conversation.
Of course, there's the public perception. Every once in a while, I've stumbled across stories about or from people in triads, and they've mentioned that society at large isn't used to seeing three people walk down the street holding hands, or snuggling together at a movie. I suppose that's true. At the same time, I've kind of stopped trying to live my life making other people happy. Nevertheless, I think people tend to get particularly nervous about group sex (which, I feel, is almost always considered more prominently than group relationships). Friend said it best. Upon asking him if he could teleport himself across the Atlantic to come hang out with me, this was his response:
But sometimes it's fun to make people nervous. Especially if it's by doing something that makes you happy. Or something that might be what you've been looking for.
By the end of the conversation (at 3am my time), we were both very seriously considering this as a viable relationship option. Of course, we were still stuck on how to go about bringing this up to potential partners. Hey, I like you, he likes you, and we're pretty sure you like us... whatcha think? just doesn't quite cut it for me. At the same time, I don't know that it would happen without some provocation... I said perhaps as the consequence of a goodthreesome (as opposed to a badthreesome where someone feels like an outside intruder on an existing relationship), but those seem equally rare. I even wracked my brain for hypothetical matches among those people I knew, and had a hard time finding two people who I'd want, who also might want each other, who might also want me. (Not that I'm about to run to any of you and propose this, I promise. Just trying to see how feasible finding something like this might be.) Obviously, there are other avenues to look for this if it's something I actually pursue. I don't know that I will, for sure.
But I do know, for now, that I'm very much enjoying the idea of having two people to love, and touch, and laugh with... two bodies to lay down with each night, that many more hands and fingers and lips and tongues...
Through the course of our conversation, we started talking about three-way relationships. Not necessarily threesomes, sexually. (Although there was some sufficiently hot verbal visualization of such encounters, which will absolutely be fodder for the next time I get some me-time. God, I'm a sucker for well-written words.) Instead, the conversation focused on establishing a long-term, three-way relationship. We both agreed that the idea of having TWO people to give and recieve that love, affection, and attention from and for sounds like an genuinely appealing idea. Obviously, this can only work in very specific scenarios, and we differed a little on what kind of things we would each expect from such a relationship. I said I think I'd want two people who knew me as well as he or some of my other dear friends do, whereas he pointed out that some learning and exploration can be a good thing. I'm fascinated by the idea of really making such a relationship work.
I think it could remove the stress that I've felt in other open relationships, where, even with permission, there can still be a nagging feeling that I'm doing something dishonest. In my experience, more traditionally open relationships are generally on a "don't ask, don't tell" basis - in that neither partner wants to hear details of the other's extra-relational affairs, but needs to know that they're going on, and that everyone is being safe, etc., etc. But I think, were there three people involved in the relationship, mutually, that would, on the one front, satisfy the desire to have sex with more than one person (which, who are we kidding, is something I most definitely have to consider with myself), while still build the kind of connection that I think is increasingly difficult to establish outside of some kind of emotional relationship. Not everything would have to be done together - people could pair off for events, take nights off, basically do whatever they wanted, of course. I do think it gets a little sticky there, though, because that's the point I start worrying about jealousy. If boy and girl (he's straight, so we were discussing FMF scenarios, but I'm open to other combinations as well, of course. Granted, there seems to be a shortage of bisexual men in my life. Which makes me sad sometimes. Anyway, back on track...) want to go out to dinner, but I have other plans, well, then, no big deal. By the same token, if I'm really feeling that I need a woman's touch that night, well, then girl and I take some time to ourselves sans boy.
But, Sasha, how do you know they wouldn't establish a stronger connection and eventually push you out? I don't, of course. At the same time, I tend to not get particularly jealous once I know how someone feels about me. It's the time before I'm sure that I'm fiercely protective of my time with someone. Take the current obsession, for example - I'm not sure how he feels about me, but when he invites me out with him, and then some drunken trip-mate steals him for an hour to ramble at him and dance with him, my face flushes and my eyes get greener. (A sure sign I'm angry, upset, or, as those of you who've been with me know, turned on. In that case, it was the former, obviously.) At the same time, the idea (or reality) of non-boyfriend being with other girls, talking to other women, spending time on other people, didn't bother me. I knew he liked me, I knew he wanted to spend (at least some of his) time with me, and so it didn't matter what else he did.
Of course, all this was discussed with Friend. We talked about how people go about avoiding jealousy, and about what jealousy actually is. Here was his idea: "Jealousy is a result of a breach of contract, but in this case, there's no breach, and therefore, no jealousy." Yes, I realize it's never that simple, but it is a strikingly reasonable way to look at it. And I think there's some merit to it. Because, yes, I get most angry and hurt when someone doesn't do what they've promised me they would. When they go back on their word. But in this scenario, if their word involved loving me AND someone else, as it would for me and for the third person, well, then there really isn't much to be jealous of.
There was more exploring of the idea. (Literally, we spent an ENTIRE night discussing this.) Trying to figure out if this would be any harder, or easier than a "traditional" relationship. And came to this conclusion: Relationships are inherently hard. It doesn't matter who is involved, or how many people, or how queer or straight or kinky or vanilla any of the participants are, relationships of any kind, and certainly those of value, take work, maintenance and compromise. So I don't know that I'd believe that this kind of relationship would be any harder than any other. Granted, it might not be any easier, either, but Friend and I both acknowledged that it might be more honest to ourselves than trying to make our trangularness fit into the round hole, so to speak.
Basically, I don't think there is necessarily some natural human tendency towards pairings of two. I do believe that humans are social creatures, and that we desire love, affection, companionship. But I don't see why that precludes getting those things from more than one other person. It's a founding reason of my views on monogamy, and since I embraced that, I've had generally better relationships. I just hadn't thought to apply it in a broader sense until this conversation.
Of course, there's the public perception. Every once in a while, I've stumbled across stories about or from people in triads, and they've mentioned that society at large isn't used to seeing three people walk down the street holding hands, or snuggling together at a movie. I suppose that's true. At the same time, I've kind of stopped trying to live my life making other people happy. Nevertheless, I think people tend to get particularly nervous about group sex (which, I feel, is almost always considered more prominently than group relationships). Friend said it best. Upon asking him if he could teleport himself across the Atlantic to come hang out with me, this was his response:
Sasha: oh! That'll work.
Sasha: so I'll see you in a half hour?
Friend: if only I had an ICBM lying around
Sasha: icbm?
Friend: intercontinental ballistic missile. the aforementioned rocket
Friend: sans nuclear warheads
Sasha: ah. yeah, probably a good plan to leave those in the garage.
Friend: they do make people nervous
Friend: like, again, group sex
But sometimes it's fun to make people nervous. Especially if it's by doing something that makes you happy. Or something that might be what you've been looking for.
By the end of the conversation (at 3am my time), we were both very seriously considering this as a viable relationship option. Of course, we were still stuck on how to go about bringing this up to potential partners. Hey, I like you, he likes you, and we're pretty sure you like us... whatcha think? just doesn't quite cut it for me. At the same time, I don't know that it would happen without some provocation... I said perhaps as the consequence of a goodthreesome (as opposed to a badthreesome where someone feels like an outside intruder on an existing relationship), but those seem equally rare. I even wracked my brain for hypothetical matches among those people I knew, and had a hard time finding two people who I'd want, who also might want each other, who might also want me. (Not that I'm about to run to any of you and propose this, I promise. Just trying to see how feasible finding something like this might be.) Obviously, there are other avenues to look for this if it's something I actually pursue. I don't know that I will, for sure.
But I do know, for now, that I'm very much enjoying the idea of having two people to love, and touch, and laugh with... two bodies to lay down with each night, that many more hands and fingers and lips and tongues...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The big adventure.
Well, folks, it's that time. I'm off to Europe for the rest of the year. It's been a fantastic summer. Really, one of the best I can remember. And I have a lot of people to thank for that. I kind of wish I could disclose names here, but I'm pretty confident they know who they are. Basically, if we've hung out this summer, you were part of that experience and I'm utterly grateful for it.
Before I go, a couple other things I've learned this summer, and a little bit of a rant , because the person it's about will get a kick out of it. :)
Things I've learned this summer:
- Age doesn't matter. I used to subscribe to the belief that age was a make-or-break factor in a relationship, and had pretty hard limits on what age was OK to associate with, date, etc. I started abandoning that when I became really close with a couple in college, not realizing there was almost 20 years between them. (I knew there was an age difference, but not that much.) I loved hanging out with both of them, they were and still are loyal friends and I never once felt out of place or uncomfortable with them, despite our (or their) age difference. And this summer, my group of friends has expanded, age-wise, to include several people who are a good deal older than me. And I love that experience. I love the different perspective they can give me and I can give them, and, again, I've been lucky to find people who are intelligent, supportive, and a blast to be around. So I'm rescinding my previous limits on age-appropriateness. While I'd still say there are some limits, I'm aware now that age really has very little to do with whether or not you connect with someone.
- Meeting new people isn't as scary as I thought it was. As I've mentioned before, I've lost several friends (in the sense that we're no longer in each other's lives) this summer, but I've gained several new ones. I've been notoriously afraid of meeting new people, and this summer, between working at the paper, Thunder, living in a new neighborhood and being old enough to go out to bars and clubs, I think I've done one hell of a job meeting new people. I still keep in touch with several of them. And that gives me hope for meeting new people on this adventure I'm about to embark on.
- I really like BDSM. It's not the only thing I like, but I had various opportunities to explore it a little more fully this summer, and overall, I really enjoyed it. Playing, watching, learning. All good things. And I have a better idea about some of my limits.. and how malleable some of them are. :)
There are more things, but as I'm looking around my room right now, I'm realizing that I leave in 12 hours and there is a lot of crap to clean up... so we'll jump to the story.
There are times when I really love friends with benefits relationships. It takes a certain kind of friendship and certain kind of people to be able to make it work, but when it does work, it works really well. After a crazy night out with the non-boyfriend, Roomie, P, G, and Gayboyfriend, I spent Friday recouperating. And being a little sad, as the reality of the summer ending was beginning to hit me. After blowing off packing all day, I was still feeling pretty shitty and, to borrow a term, had a bad case of skin hunger. I ended up texting a long-time friend who I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to yet. After the opening ceremonies, he came over. I sometimes forget how much fun we have together. We ended up hanging out in my bedroom, talking about everything under the sun. My house is sans AC, and I was really hot, so I ended up stripping down to a bra and short shorts. And then dropped a not-so-subtle hint that cuddling would be a really awesome idea. (Yeah, I was super-smooth. Along the lines of "I need to make more friends who like to cuddle." *cue boy lying down next to me with his arm around my waist. Excellent*)
We watched entirely too many episodes of Weeds, chatting in between, and flirting like we tend to do. I showed him my new cuffs from Thunder, he wore them for a while, which made it really difficult for him to sneak up on me and tickle me, since he jingled. There was much cuddling. And he's a really good cuddler. Which I know sounds strange, but there are people who just... aren't very good at it. Also, we fit nicely together, since he's got a solid five or six inches on me, so it contributes to the whole i'm-little-and-feminine feeling that I so enjoy when cuddling. I think there were small periods of time where both of us fell asleep (he didn't get to my house until midnight), and eventually, when I tried to get up to put the next episode on, he kept his arms locked around me.
Now, generally, I'm pretty good at cuddling with platonic friends. Granted, this friend isn't entirely platonic. He's that kind of excellent friend with benefits whose company I really enjoy, whether we're hooking up or not. And we'd hooked up earlier in the summer, but hadn't slept together since I started seeing non-boyfriend, for a variety of reasons. But with the cuddling, and the fabulous conversation (intelligent and silly and serious and lighthearted all at once) I kind of couldn't help wanting it to go farther. And he has an uncanny ability to figure out exactly what I want. It's a little eerie, although my guess is it has something to do with the fact that we've known each other for over a decade. Anyways, he kept asking me what was on my mind, and in a totally high-school move, I played the "nuuuuuuthing" card. And then he started kissing me. Which was exactly what I wanted.
And things progressed (I was mostly naked already) in the way they tend to with he and I, and shortly there were no clothes left on our bodies. Talk about satisfying skin hunger. And here's the thing I remember most vividly from the encounter (which is going to make me sound rather girly): the way he held my hand. He'd be on top of me, and go to hold my hands above my head (again, he knows the kind of thing I like), but instead of just holding my wrists down, he'd intertwine his fingers in mine, which allowed me to squeeze back on his hand. And made me feel really connected to him. I know that's a little thing, the way his hands were, but it was particularly interesting, because it was something I'd actually been thinking about earlier that day. About how I wanted to get laid, but have it be more sensual than the frenzied need or getting dommed. And this friend knows where my buttons are, and exactly how to push them. And he absolutely did. Which was exactly what I wanted.
I also tend to remember specific things he says when we're having sex. I remember the first time we hooked up (well, ok, the "first" part is debateable) after a fabulous date involving dinner and a movie and a trip to Kmart to try to find Nerf guns (unsuccessfully) and late-night stargazing in the snow and an effort to get pie until we realized the Village Inn closed in 10 minutes, he said something to me (about my rack, heh)... and something about the way it was worded or the way he said it, I don't know... was really hot. And I can still remember exactly how it sounded and what he said. The same kind of thing happened this time... I was on top, and sat up straight, still rocking my hips. He looked up at me and just said "god, that's a gorgeous sight." I'm pretty sure I blushed. I always do when compliments actually take. It made me feel ridiculously attractive, and sexy, and wanted. It was fantastic.
Really, the whole night was a blast. I kind of consider that my first Last Night in the City. (I went out with friends the next night, and had a great time, although the tone was a little bittersweet.) But had I left the next day, I still would have been totally satisfied with how I'd spent my last few hours here by hanging out with him. He somehow figured out exactly what I needed, and that's what I got. I wish that was the case with more of my life. Heh. Anyways, friend, I'll miss you. See you when I get back.
And that's all, folks. I'll be out for at least two weeks as I travel Spain. I'm sure I'll have periodic internet access a la internet cafes and hotel lobbies, but I don't know if it will be enough time to post. But I'll be sure to keep everyone updated on the inevitable escapades. Speaking of, last night, a girlfriend asked me if I wanted to bet how long it'll take before I get laid in Spain. Any guesses, readers? :)
Adios!
Before I go, a couple other things I've learned this summer, and a little bit of a rant , because the person it's about will get a kick out of it. :)
Things I've learned this summer:
- Age doesn't matter. I used to subscribe to the belief that age was a make-or-break factor in a relationship, and had pretty hard limits on what age was OK to associate with, date, etc. I started abandoning that when I became really close with a couple in college, not realizing there was almost 20 years between them. (I knew there was an age difference, but not that much.) I loved hanging out with both of them, they were and still are loyal friends and I never once felt out of place or uncomfortable with them, despite our (or their) age difference. And this summer, my group of friends has expanded, age-wise, to include several people who are a good deal older than me. And I love that experience. I love the different perspective they can give me and I can give them, and, again, I've been lucky to find people who are intelligent, supportive, and a blast to be around. So I'm rescinding my previous limits on age-appropriateness. While I'd still say there are some limits, I'm aware now that age really has very little to do with whether or not you connect with someone.
- Meeting new people isn't as scary as I thought it was. As I've mentioned before, I've lost several friends (in the sense that we're no longer in each other's lives) this summer, but I've gained several new ones. I've been notoriously afraid of meeting new people, and this summer, between working at the paper, Thunder, living in a new neighborhood and being old enough to go out to bars and clubs, I think I've done one hell of a job meeting new people. I still keep in touch with several of them. And that gives me hope for meeting new people on this adventure I'm about to embark on.
- I really like BDSM. It's not the only thing I like, but I had various opportunities to explore it a little more fully this summer, and overall, I really enjoyed it. Playing, watching, learning. All good things. And I have a better idea about some of my limits.. and how malleable some of them are. :)
There are more things, but as I'm looking around my room right now, I'm realizing that I leave in 12 hours and there is a lot of crap to clean up... so we'll jump to the story.
There are times when I really love friends with benefits relationships. It takes a certain kind of friendship and certain kind of people to be able to make it work, but when it does work, it works really well. After a crazy night out with the non-boyfriend, Roomie, P, G, and Gayboyfriend, I spent Friday recouperating. And being a little sad, as the reality of the summer ending was beginning to hit me. After blowing off packing all day, I was still feeling pretty shitty and, to borrow a term, had a bad case of skin hunger. I ended up texting a long-time friend who I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to yet. After the opening ceremonies, he came over. I sometimes forget how much fun we have together. We ended up hanging out in my bedroom, talking about everything under the sun. My house is sans AC, and I was really hot, so I ended up stripping down to a bra and short shorts. And then dropped a not-so-subtle hint that cuddling would be a really awesome idea. (Yeah, I was super-smooth. Along the lines of "I need to make more friends who like to cuddle." *cue boy lying down next to me with his arm around my waist. Excellent*)
We watched entirely too many episodes of Weeds, chatting in between, and flirting like we tend to do. I showed him my new cuffs from Thunder, he wore them for a while, which made it really difficult for him to sneak up on me and tickle me, since he jingled. There was much cuddling. And he's a really good cuddler. Which I know sounds strange, but there are people who just... aren't very good at it. Also, we fit nicely together, since he's got a solid five or six inches on me, so it contributes to the whole i'm-little-and-feminine feeling that I so enjoy when cuddling. I think there were small periods of time where both of us fell asleep (he didn't get to my house until midnight), and eventually, when I tried to get up to put the next episode on, he kept his arms locked around me.
Now, generally, I'm pretty good at cuddling with platonic friends. Granted, this friend isn't entirely platonic. He's that kind of excellent friend with benefits whose company I really enjoy, whether we're hooking up or not. And we'd hooked up earlier in the summer, but hadn't slept together since I started seeing non-boyfriend, for a variety of reasons. But with the cuddling, and the fabulous conversation (intelligent and silly and serious and lighthearted all at once) I kind of couldn't help wanting it to go farther. And he has an uncanny ability to figure out exactly what I want. It's a little eerie, although my guess is it has something to do with the fact that we've known each other for over a decade. Anyways, he kept asking me what was on my mind, and in a totally high-school move, I played the "nuuuuuuthing" card. And then he started kissing me. Which was exactly what I wanted.
And things progressed (I was mostly naked already) in the way they tend to with he and I, and shortly there were no clothes left on our bodies. Talk about satisfying skin hunger. And here's the thing I remember most vividly from the encounter (which is going to make me sound rather girly): the way he held my hand. He'd be on top of me, and go to hold my hands above my head (again, he knows the kind of thing I like), but instead of just holding my wrists down, he'd intertwine his fingers in mine, which allowed me to squeeze back on his hand. And made me feel really connected to him. I know that's a little thing, the way his hands were, but it was particularly interesting, because it was something I'd actually been thinking about earlier that day. About how I wanted to get laid, but have it be more sensual than the frenzied need or getting dommed. And this friend knows where my buttons are, and exactly how to push them. And he absolutely did. Which was exactly what I wanted.
I also tend to remember specific things he says when we're having sex. I remember the first time we hooked up (well, ok, the "first" part is debateable) after a fabulous date involving dinner and a movie and a trip to Kmart to try to find Nerf guns (unsuccessfully) and late-night stargazing in the snow and an effort to get pie until we realized the Village Inn closed in 10 minutes, he said something to me (about my rack, heh)... and something about the way it was worded or the way he said it, I don't know... was really hot. And I can still remember exactly how it sounded and what he said. The same kind of thing happened this time... I was on top, and sat up straight, still rocking my hips. He looked up at me and just said "god, that's a gorgeous sight." I'm pretty sure I blushed. I always do when compliments actually take. It made me feel ridiculously attractive, and sexy, and wanted. It was fantastic.
Really, the whole night was a blast. I kind of consider that my first Last Night in the City. (I went out with friends the next night, and had a great time, although the tone was a little bittersweet.) But had I left the next day, I still would have been totally satisfied with how I'd spent my last few hours here by hanging out with him. He somehow figured out exactly what I needed, and that's what I got. I wish that was the case with more of my life. Heh. Anyways, friend, I'll miss you. See you when I get back.
And that's all, folks. I'll be out for at least two weeks as I travel Spain. I'm sure I'll have periodic internet access a la internet cafes and hotel lobbies, but I don't know if it will be enough time to post. But I'll be sure to keep everyone updated on the inevitable escapades. Speaking of, last night, a girlfriend asked me if I wanted to bet how long it'll take before I get laid in Spain. Any guesses, readers? :)
Adios!
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