Lately I have an embarrassment of riches…this fellow’s back in town and less pushy, another one has rung to tell me he’s in the next state over, I’m aiming for Fucked-Up Guy, Man Who Loves Stars is, improbably, in my town, ten states from his stomping grounds. I’m also supposed to see Lover again very soon. We are inches from a precipice, from I-don’t-love-you-anymore-goodbye, from the scene where I disappear into the crowd and the part of me that’s been his, for him, for him in me and me on him, fades and vanishes into a pleasant memory, the shining bauble tucked away in tissue and lost in a corner of the basement, when did we get this? Who gave it to us?
Aphrodite demanded loyalty from her many lovers, and truth be told I am lately less goddess-like than usual, busy with my other life, my work, closer than usual to Husband due to a working-out, gardening and evening walks for ice cream marital repair plan. I have not been there for Lover creatively as is our usual wont, we’ve been separated by distance and time zones and roaming charges.
These are all excuses.
What’s really between us is the Hershey’s Kiss. And not her, personally, but the idea of her and all her kind. The girls Lover should be healthily fucking, moving from one fun, unattached plaything to the next, enjoying his freedom from the ex-wife now that he’s recovered from the ex- part enough to enjoy the freedom.
I can’t stand this notion.
I’ve grown a lot where jealousy is concerned, I’m comfortable with Man Who Loves Stars having a strong tie to another woman (not the one who deprived him of head), I’m able to wrap my tiny brain around the idea that men who are quality enough for me to fuck might actually appeal to other women, too, and I’ve never had a problem with the permanent partners of men I, too, love.
But. Lover hits me, Lover holds me, Lover bends me over the counter in the hotel bathroom and takes me from behind, watching each others’ faces and our own in the mirror over the sink. Lover slaps me, pulls my hair, rapes me in the back seat, fills me with his hand until there’s nothing else in the world. There is blood, sometimes, and tears, and breathless laughter, and revelation of fears told only to him. There is letting go, letting someone else be in charge, releasing control, the bossy bitch stepping outside for a moment while the raw and naked girl writhes beneath his hand around my throat.
Lover tells me about the other girls, when I ask, when I want to know. Sometimes I didn’t really want to know. I can’t wish it to be bad, and the part of me that wishes it to be mediocre with them, nothing is as good as you, feels mean and shamed.
How fortunate to have found a way to “manage” my jealousy. Simple, really. Step back. Turn off. Disengage. Break up. And in the course of stepping back, the distance fills with all the questions love removes. Has it been too long? Is it only about the sex? Can I do better? Is he handsome enough? Successful enough? Is it worth lying to have this?
Two horoscopes in a row have told me, question the pattern of your intimacy, examine whether the love you need is still the love you thought you needed. And while I don’t really believe in horoscopes, I do believe in the subtle message, the guidance from the Magical Stranger on the path, fortune cookies and what the book you’re reading says that speaks to you. Perhaps Man Who Loves Stars calling to say he is in the next town tonight, the night I am to see Lover, in the same town as Lover, though thank goodness not the same hotel, is God’s banderilla.
It’s not what it used to be. Will it change, deepen, reframe? Or simply stop?
Friday, August 3, 2007
Precipice
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4 comments:
It sounds like the horoscope is a not-so-subtle message, actually. Sometimes opportunities arise in such an obvious way that you swear the heavens are saying -- "Look! Here's one to replace that other one! Almost the same, but better / easier / more convenient / more manageable!" I had that happen recently... but letting go is not that easy. So, I'm holding on.
You do realize this is the hardest shit to comment on don't you? The unpopular stuff of departure, heartache and change. My heart breaks for the turn you two have taken. I've been there. His fading tincture over time within me was the only cure.
LFM - one of the greatest quotes I've ever heard, from a friend -
"Sometimes the space for what you want is filled with the stuff you've settled for."
G - yes.
Yeah but you don't have any true replacement as of yet for the rough stuff, clearly way dominant, kind of really good sex that Lover can provide.
As well, I would think that by the nature of things and alpha men, that so long as you can't make time to see such a very alpha acting lover very often, most such you'll find will pretty soon if not already be with someone else "officially" and/or have several other lovers, though none perhaps as hot as you with him.
But maybe you can find a dominant rough stuff alpha stud who's just for you despite your limited time for him, for awhile, esp. if he believes in the future he'll be seeing more of you.
But how long is it gonna take to rustle such a stud up? Is seeing Lover once in a while really standing in the way of you're looking or keeping your eyes open and trying out likely possibilities?
Are you better off keeping Lover available until you do, even if it isn't at quite the fever pitch it used to be, due importantly to your need to distance yourself to avoid feeling jealousy.
Here's another thought. Is it really so bad to feel some jealousy - especially of this sort, when you're getting more than plenty elsewhere, if not quite the same type as with Lover? Maybe you're being TOO ego protective. Maybe some jealousy on your part would actually HEAT things up between you two. (I imagine Lover feels considerable jealousy about you, given all your other lovers and clients, even if he claims he doesn't and even if it is ameliorated by his belief that he's No. 1 in the sexually doming and roughing you department.)
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