Lesson not learned, but crisis has passed

Of course, a little earlier this afternoon, I got a text from Cuteboy saying that his texts earlier before he left town apparently didn't go through, and then he was in the mountains without reception. Apparently his texts earlier were about how he spent Thursday in a contented daze. Me too, except the parts where I spent Thursday wondering why he hadn't said anything.

I texted Benjamin Braddock and said I had an adorable and wonderful time, and he responded by asking if we could do it again. Yes. Yes we definitely can.

I didn't learn to calm the fuck down, but at least I'm not still beating myself up for it? I dunno. I've done so much healing. I think maybe it's time to grow again.

Hey, maybe I'll get a tree tattooed on my hip instead of a phoenix. That's more relevant to my life in terms of cycles and rebirth.

Failing at learning to just be

On Friday, I texted Cuteboy and just say "hey, you." He hasn't responded. There are several possible reasons for this.

1- He had a trip to NC happening soon, and it may be this weekend.
2- His phone died or he's having some other manner of technological mishap.
3- He finds it off-putting that I texted first.
4- He doesn't want to be interrupted this weekend because he's spending quality time with his lady or someone else, and texting me back would be a boundary issue for them.
5- He changed his mind about me/his lady vetoed me.
6- He never really intended to see me again but didn't want to be straightforward.

1, 2, and 4 are pretty likely. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to do 3 or 5 without saying something about it, and I really doubt that 6 is happening after the kind of time we had. But, because I'm me, I've worked myself into a bit of a lather. I have a huge project due tomorrow at 4:30, and I'm having the worst time working on it. I decided yesterday that I'd give him until Monday to respond, and then I'd assume it's over. After all, he said, "Let's hang out after the weekend, and talk sooner." On Friday I realized that it's not that I'm crushing on Cuteboy all that much. It's that I had fun, and I'm relieved to finally find something that seems like it'll work for me. Finally! I mean, it's only been six months and I've only really been looking for two, but still. It's been frustrating. It's the confusion over whether to be hopeful or disappointed. I'm probably putting myself through disappointment preemptively, but hope will just build me up higher and the fall will be steeper. Though with the kind of hurt and disappointment I've been through in the last six months -- from E to M to Morgan to Curtis to David to Matt and back to E -- what am I worried about? I guess I'm so sure that this town is tapped out. I think I see Cuteboy's existence as another scratched off lottery ticket instead of evidence that there are more people to like.

I had a date on Saturday with another guy that I'm also pretty into, but I think it's a different kind of thing and we didn't get sweet. I think it's heading that way, but he's a lot younger than me and it kind of freaks me out. I was able to put Cuteboy down easily while I was with the other boy, but Benjie doesn't stress me out. The thing is, I want to date the two of them. I think Benjie might want something more than I'm willing or able to give, and I don't want to be exclusive on accident. Cuteboy is in other relationships, so I'd worry less about accidental exclusivity there. Also I've slept with Cuteboy and I haven't slept with Benjie, so there's an unknown in the accidental comparison. And Cuteboy is unavailable, which increases the risk and excitement.

I know that as soon as I hear from Cuteboy, this whole feeling will dissolve. I am so dependent on anyone's validation right now, and he's the big winner this weekend. I really don't want to be there. This is probably the most codependent I've felt at a time when I could recognize it. It's not just that hearing from him will be evidence that I've got a new buddy. It's that without that evidence, I feel like I have no assurance that I'm worthy of a new buddy. Right now the only way I'm able to deal with this is through the symptoms. I can distract myself, and I set an alarm for tomorrow at noon. I put chicken on to cook, and I'm going to make some more food for now and for the week. If I don't hear from him by noon tomorrow, I text again and ask if he wants to come over Tuesday. If he doesn't respond, I write him off. If he responds inconclusively, I ask about boundaries etc. I don't know how to move forward with Benjie, either, but the lower stress of that situation makes me feel like I can reach out and it won't be a thing.

Now if only I could focus on my homework.

Moving on, and learning to just be

Monday felt like a turning point, and the date I had on Wednesday confirmed it. I had drinks with a sweet boy, P, who speaks a remarkably similar emotional and sexual language to me. Normalizing kinks, focusing on enthusiasm and engagement rather than consent or taboo, encouraging me to keep an open dialogue about feelings, etc. He's smart and funny and sweet, and he smiles during sex, which is new to me. He seems to experience it on several levels, both enjoying the experience and simultaneously seeing it as if he's on the outside thinking, "Wow, what those people are doing is really hot." His existence also reminded me that there are guys I don't already know who I could be compatible with.

He's in a primary relationship that doesn't seem to be extremely serious, and is mostly unlabelled. But she gets veto power over other relationships. I'm already just a little jealous of her. Mostly because his having a primary means that my options with him are limited. Not that he couldn't feel however he wants to feel about me, but knowing that they're limited obviously makes me want what I can't have. Even though when I think about it, I don't think I'm in a place to be in a committed relationship, poly or not. I've convinced myself through experience that I'm capable of loving people in different ways and in different kinds of relationships, but I can never conceive of others being able to do the same. Sometimes, like with E and M, there are ways to reassure me. But in general, I can't understand it.

The thing I need to figure out is how to stop processing with him. I like to fill empty space with processing. I swallowed that urge once or twice Thursday morning, but I processed more than I avoided it. I asked when I'd see him again, and he suggested after the weekend. I said that sounded good. When I went to kiss him goodbye, he said, "See you after the weekend, and talk to you sooner than that." I'm eager to talk to him, but I do think he'll text me sometime over the weekend. But I want to know how this will be. I want to know if it's just sex between people who are fond of each other. He's referred to himself as someone who has sex within friendships that are slightly romantic. I don't know if that means we get sweet and sexy, or if that means we can go on dates. I want to go on date. I don't want a hookupbuddy, exactly. I don't want a boyfriend either. I want to have him over and cook dinner together, or go to a show that sounds like fun. That's something I do with friends, but when you add sex to the mix, it sounds a lot more like boyfriendy things. I feel like we had a connection, which probably is new relationship energy. I don't know if he felt that, or if he just felt like hey this is a good idea. I know I don't want or need him to be my person.

I've been feeling like this song:

I'm done.

Tonight was a disaster. I thought me and E could handle hanging out for a friend's birthday -- after all, we'd hung out one on one several times and were ok. By the end of the night, I'd cried my eyes out and I'm fucking DONE now. I need to get this out and down, and the easiest way is by sharing an edited version of this conversation. The things I've removed are to tone down the anger of the first venting, and the irrelevant stuff about knitting towards the end. Scroll to the bottom and you'll see the resignation, nostalgia, and anger I feel simultaneously.

me: you there?

  i just got home

 C: I am

 me: i'm done with this shit

  we had two seconds alone and i asked how he was and he said it was hard leaving L at home, but she wouldn't have come anyway, and that's my fault bc i always make things awkward.

  and then he stormed away.

  several times.

1:35 AM ended up getting a drink and leaving it and leaving our friend whose bday it was, and i made the friend chase him or else e would be mad at me forever.

 C: several? as in he came back after storming away?

 me: as in i followed him bc he was going outside, then back inside.

  the bday friend's girlfriend stayed with me, and i deleted him from my phone, and deleted the text log.

  i had brought a plant that he left at my house, but he stormed off so i didn't get to give it to him.

1:36 AM so i left it on the front porch. of course, he wasn't home. i didn't care.

  i had asked if he still needed space, and he said yes, and that's when he said the L thing.

  

 me: i'm mailing his car key back to him. and a check that should cover the leftover bills that we had that he's been stalling on.

1:37 AM jocelyn kept telling me that i was so much healthier bc i wasn't running away from my feelings.

  and she's right.

  i'm not angry right now, but a little manic.

 C: manic?

1:38 AM me: a little.

  i don't really get manic, so it's more like i'm energetic

  but not happy.

  not crying, not in a rage.

  just in a FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER.

  sort of way

 C: rage?

  furious?

 me: like i was just ripped off by a stranger.

 C: ;nods

 me: and now i just have things to attend to.

1:39 AM i don't know who that person was. i have no fucking clue. i knew a person who was smart and funny and easy and a little awkward.

  this person was cold, closed off, and rude. he was mean.

 C: I'm so sorry, hon.

 me: fuck him

  i don't care.

1:40 AM i was trying to feel myself out, to see if i wanted him to disappear or wanted him to be happy or wanted him in my life.

  and i don't care. he's a fucking stranger.

  i'm trying to write a note to go with the check, but my handwriting looks rageful.

1:41 AM C: Sleep on the note?

 me: no, it'll be just business.

1:42 AM  

me: the note says:

1:51 AM Please leave any of my things tha tyou still have on my porch or in my mailbox. I especially need my vacuum, my bike, and my spare car keys. You can keep the octagon until I move out of town, or until you no longer need it.

  [the octagon is a big sturdy end table. he still has it.]

 C: ah

  seems short n curt. perfect.

1:52 AM me: good.

  thanks.

1:53 AM i also have a pair of his glasses that i'm including. 

C: I can't believe he threw a hissy fit at you.

 me: yea

  for real.

  and it hink he was really pissed that i made him do it in front of friends.

  one who now thinks he had a nutty.

  even though i was the one crying in a bar. again.

2:00 AM you know what?

  i have a date on wednesday with a guy who i think will be a good sexual match.

 C: EPIC.

 me: and another date later in the week, with a guy i think will just be a sweet friend and maybe cuddlebuddy.

2:01 AM i'm tired of first dates overall, but these two seem good and i'm excited.

  i was thinking i'd take any first date and just give it a try. i don't think i'm there anymore.

  

Femme, femininity, and validation

Every time I go to work, I dread the moment L sees that I'm there. Without fail, she calls out "Jak-uh-liiiiiin" and then proceeds to tell me that I'm looking so nice, in a way that means, "You're looking nice these days, compared to back when you were looking crappy." If there's anyone else around, she turns to them and says, "Isn't she looking nice with her hair all grown out and pretty?" I know L, and I know that she means this in a sweet way, not in a back-handed "ew gross don't do the butch thing" way. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm being complimented not on finding a hairstyle that looks good on me, or walking around with confidence, or looking happy, but on my femininity.

A few things in the last week have made me think more about this. When talking to a sweet friend about the queer community in his city, he said I'd love the femme group. This particular friend has no reason to know about my complicated feelings about femininity and queer femme communities, but he also has no reason to think that I identify as femme except that I'm a queer cissexual woman who usually dates boys. My friend apologized for making that assumption, and I know that he genuinely felt like a doofus for doing so. He knows what it's like to be misrecognized.

On my driver's license, my hair is short, in a lazy fauxhawk and I'm wearing no makeup. Now, my hair is past my shoulders and layered, and I wear makeup a few times a week. I genuinely think I'm looking really good lately. Because I am looking good. Not because I look better when more feminine, or women in general look better when more feminine.

Last night I went out with three friends. One is a queer woman whose gender expression is fairly similar to mine but who doesn't identify as femme, one is her somewhat fey but mostly straight boyfriend, and one is a guy whose gender identity is somewhat in flux but who tends to get "tarted up" to go out. We met at this last guy's apartment, and I said it makes me smile that in the bathroom he shares with his female roommate, it's pretty certain that the makeup is his. In the ensuing conversation, my girl friend said that she sees me as androgynous, but not as gender neutral. Basically, the construction goes like this: androgynous : gender neutral : : ambivalence : indifference. Ambivalence means having two opinions/feelings/etc that are in "opposition" to each other, and holding them simultaneously. That's how I feel about my gender. It's not moderate, or neutral, or in between. It swings wildly from femme to butch, or feminine to masculine, and doesn't much stop in between. I was thrilled that she understood that distinction, and even more thrilled that she correctly applied it to me. It felt validating to have all the parts of me recognized.

For a long time, I felt disdain towards the idea of a femme identity. The only femmes I knew were lesbians in relationships with butch women or, more often, trans guys, who felt the need to invest in their gender in a way that matched the intensity of their partners'. There was a lot of talk of invisibility, in a way that meant "it's so hard to get laid because no one thinks I'm gay." These folks, too, always assumed I was femme -- mostly because my partner at the time is a trans guy. Once I was away from that group of people, I realized that that's not always (or usually) what femme identities are about. I heard someone explain it as intentionally and personally choosing femininity and femme expression, in a world that expects us to be up to someone else's standards of femininity. The power of claiming something as your own is a power that I've grasped in other places in my life. For example, I can be a queer woman in relationships with straight guys because I get to choose how and with whom my relationships develop.

My identity is not femme, but it isn't butch either. It's not somewhere in between. It's kickass, and strong, and empathetic, and a good friend, and a rabblerouser. It's refinishing a cabinet to house my craft supplies, sewing myself a toolbelt, and taking apart my sewing machine to fix the broken lever. It's not complicated, but it doesn't fit easily into any box. And damnit, it's hot.

Boys suck.

No, seriously. Boys suck.

The whole Boy 2 thing is basically over, except we can communicate as needed. Boy 1 had sent me this vague "I'll be busy for a while" thing a few days ago. So I asked if we should make plans for some future time or if I should just back off. He responded two days later with this:

"I got busy again at work and with some other stuff, so probably no more hanging out for a while. You should still send me blogs though!"

Wtf? A is suggesting that he's just not into me, and that's ok, bc it's not a reflection on me. Which is fine, but WTF. I know he doesn't like things getting personal. I wouldn't be surprised if he has a three-date limit on any interaction. I know he has a surprisingly low sex drive, so maybe once is enough for these three months? What the fuck? I liked this guy. Why is it the guys I like who lose interest? I've got plenty of guys I'm not interested in that I could call.

You know what?

I'm fine. I'm fine. Everything that hurts is a fear for the future. I don't want to be sad. I don't want to lose E forever. I don't want to miss him/the relationship forever. Yeah. Duh. But right now, at this minute, I'm fine. I might not be fine in the future, and I know I wasn't always fine in the past. But I can't know that, and I can't do anything about that. I can keep moving. I am fine. No really, I am.