“Ten Minutes to Kiss” (Date 6)

I have floated home.  Okay, maybe not floated, but I am still beaming 3 hours after I last kissed LP.

LP works absurdly hard and right now, his schedule is insane.  He is working 7 days a week, often 18 hours a day.  Needless to say, we don’t have a lot of time to spend together.

This morning, I knew I’d be downtown tonight, so I texted to say that I will be downtown for a show, I will carve out 10 minutes to kiss you, and I will brook no refusal.

It was audacious, but our thing is to be vulnerable, open, expressive, honest.  I wanted it to happen, so I told him it will.  I heard nothing back.  5 hours later (2 hours before I was heading downtown) I texted him “Will be downtown at 730, when can you spare 10 minutes.”  I specifically asked him when, not if.  Again, I heard nothing.

Protected: We’re Done (BFD)

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On the Precipice

It’s been under a month and I am crazy about LP. To the point of being slightly obsessed with him. When I am with him, I am happy. When I think about him, I am happy. When I see a picture of him, I am happy. (I have one open on my screen now, which he sent in response to our flurry of reconnection emails.)

He is a lovely man — warm, passionate, brilliant, sensitive. I think he’s handsome — I don’t know that he is, but he is to me. I am beautiful to him and when we are together, we are basking the the warmth and glow of a surprisingly wonderful connection on a physical and emotional level.

We have a physical connection that is stronger than sex, which we’re not yet having. When we are together — in the car or in a restaurant or wherever — I caress the back of his neck. And he melts. Every time. It is an obvious thing to me, a tender way to touch him. It’s completely nonsexual, but he just melts into me because it is incredibly loving and affectionate. I started doing it when he was driving, as a way of touching him that was not like his thigh or his hand that should be on the wheel. His reaction was so wonderful that I have kept doing it.

How people like to be touched (or not) says so much about them and he loves to be touched, loves to snuggle in to me, and loves to kiss me. Whenever we’re together, we are touching each other, turned toward each other, and ignoring the rest of the world.

The First Night (Date 5)

LP, who had been working like mad all week and weekend and moving and being a dad, wanted to pick me up at 9 after he’d wrapped up at the office on Sunday night to show me his new house.

He was delayed and it was starting to get late. Before he arrived, after confirming he’d be picking me up, he texted “Can you stay over?”

Well, that was unexpected, although I had mentioned to him when he was in his sick bed that I wished I had stayed. Still, it’s a school night and he goes to work ridiculously early, so I responded back, yes, I can, and threw a toothbrush and moisturizer into my purse, just in case.

A Family Saturday, and the Return of LP

I awoke before my alarm this morning. I don’t remember the last time I set an alarm for anything. My alarm clock was only on the correct time because A stayed here last month. For me, it had been flashing since the last time the power went out.

But I set an alarm for 630, since my visiting family was arriving at 7 am. I was determined to sleep in as long as possible before heading off on a 3 hour round trip journey to see something for 45 minutes. It was all about the quality time in the car.

At 622, I awoke and my cell phone was flashing. I checked it and it was a photo from LP, which he’d sent the night before around 930 and I had not seen. He was smiling and I could see in the darkness behind him that he was standing inside his new house. Well, that’s interesting.

I did not reply back. It was really early. I was still really annoyed. I had to get ready to see the family.

Vision — An Afternoon and Evening with BP

When things are going very, very well for me, I feel as though I can I see everything around me, and that I can see everyone else’s view of everything around me, too. I have not felt this way in a very long time — maybe 18 months, maybe longer.

Instead, I have been trapped inside my own head, unable to clearly see what’s happening around me, and certainly incapable of seeing how others are reacting to me.

So much of what I do has to occur in this heightened reality. I need to plan moves weeks, months, years ahead, so I have to know what everyone is thinking and feeling and planning all the time — what they say and what they mean. I have to discern their hidden agendas, play to their strengths, sidestep (or take advantage of ) their weaknesses, and often convince them of something the opposite of what they think they want, though it’s a better solution.

LP’s Disappearance

LP is gone, I guess. It’s been since Sunday since we’ve spoken and we have no plans for the weekend.

Over five days, I texted him twice and called him once and left a voice mail.

I am somewhat devastated that he went from hot to cold, even though he’d warned me this would happen with his schedule. Even though I know how hard his work is right now. I have less sympathy for him, even though he “has” to work (unlike BFD or BP or N). I don’t know why I feel that way since they all work like crazy all the time and he actually has to work to maintain his lifestyle. I think I am just hurt because it was so fucking abrupt to go from 75 texts a day to no response.

BFD Returns, Again.

This started last night as a very different post.

I was thinking about BFD and how it felt to reconnect with him again this week as his girlfriend, not his friend/business partner/workout buddy/lover for the first time in months. That’s what’s been happening. He is suddenly aware again that I am here, that he needs me to be involved in his life. He had been missing me and our connection. We have not seen each other — so much of our life together is over email and the phone — but it has felt very different all of a sudden.

I . . . felt really great about it, actually. I teased and cajoled and praised and criticized and reassumed the mantle as his girlfriend. He was sweet and kind and loving and affectionate and warm and supportive. Everything clicked back into place. We made (and canceled) plans for this week. We made plans for next week. He told me about his plans for this weekend, prepared for me to give him a hard time. Instead, I was enthusiastic and loving and allowed him to be him without making it about us.

My Favorite Exes

At the end of a hideously bad day, I met W for a glass of wine at my neighborhood dive bar. It’s not a real dive bar. It’s a hipster dive bar, but I love love love it. They have excellent food (see, not a real dive bar) and I like the energy of the place.

We walked in and the place was packed, so we glanced around, saw no seats and walked out, standing on the rain-soaked patio, debating where to go next.

Then my beloved ex A walked out to say hello, pint glass in hand. We had a great chat, with my assuming he was there on a date, since he made no move to invite us back inside. He was not, he was sitting at the bar by himself, so W glanced back in, saw a table half had opened up, and we wandered back in with A.

Disordered Thinking

I am under a tremendous amount of stress and pressure, much of it financial, some of it personal, and some of it a combination of the two (I owe my ex-ish BFD money, which sucks).

I don’t have much money right now, so I am being careful with what I am eating at home, and I skipped 2 workouts — it’s really something more suited for the SOs of the BFDs of the world as it’s very expensive (up to $20/session and I have sometimes gone 3x/week).

This disordered thinking is an escape for me, an obsession over which I have total control. I have always had body image issues. I have been a 2 and I have been a 12, but I never see how I really am. It first happened when I was 12 or 13 and I essentially refused to eat. For about 9 months. My parents did not notice, but my friends did and invited one of their fathers — a therapist specializing in eating disorders — in to speak to our biology class. I was offended. I was also 5′3″ and weighed 95 pounds. Many members of my family suffer from eating disorders of one kind or another. It’s all unhealthy, but makes us very good dieters. My cousin spent months in a hospital for anorexia when she was in high school and it’s just one of those things we know. We joke about it, a gallows humor, that we’re only fat between our ears, but we are all fat between our ears.