Because I postponed last night to tonight. Work had to be done. But yeah, even though I expressed what I expressed, I'm going out with him again because he is such a nice guy. And because he DOESN'T deserve to be dumped because of how he speaks. And because he might make an incredible friend.
But I still don't feel how I felt last week. It was the opportunity, the adventure, the kind words, the newness of it all. Always heady stuff, that First Blush. And I think I know what my female date from Match.com--lo these many years ago now--what she must have felt. I just didn't do it for her. And my new friend just doesn't do it for me. I think that's the safest way to put it.
This whole week has been busy with work, but there has been no ... how do I put it ... no passion in it. Nothing to rev me up. The whole idea of sex has made me slightly queasy, in fact.
Hmmm. Reading this back to myself, I think I know what's going on here. Life Students, can you see it for yourselves? I'm going to leave a big gap in the narrative to give you guys time to guess before I say it.
Trauma.
Faced with the actually possibility of sex, now with a dude instead of a chick -- I'm getting the same reaction. Distance setting in. Separation. What do we call it in the business? Disassociation. I couldn't even think of the word until the third try.
Shiiiiiiit. I'm still fucking victimized by the molestation. (edit; changed it from "my molestation" to "the molestation". But I'm paying attention dammit to what I'm doing. I saw that.) 45-minus-innocence years later. Damn. I want to even say that I WANT to overcome this, but I'm so fucking disassociated from it that I don't feel like I even want to try. Only when the opportunity comes around am I perfectly happy doing nothing. Which, clearly is not "perfectly happy" -- but in all truth "rather terrifiedly running away from". But when there's no opportunity and I'm lonely -- oh then it's all "Poor me" and "Oh my lonely heart" and "When will I ever find a love of my own".
It's bullshit. I don't want anyone. I want to be alone. I want to be safe. I don't want to be touched. idontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouched
shit
I'm losing my fucking marbles here. No I'm not. I'm not losing them. I'm finding them. I'm finding what's really going on.
Shit. I need some real help.
I need some real help or I'm going to fucking die like this.
Fuck.
2 hours to go until the next date. Oh that poor guy.
3 comments:
I'm losing my fucking marbles here. No I'm not. I'm not losing them. I'm finding them. I'm finding what's really going on.
So true. So very true.
I can only imagine how uncomfortable and terrifying this must be for you. From the outside looking in though, I think this is a good thing. Increased self-awareness is always a good thing.
Well. Two things.
1) Either he's the love of my life,
or
2) His desire to get in my pants makes him the perfect actor
I told him about the disassociation and he understood. Like, textbook understood. He had something similar in his childhood too. But his reaction to his own violation went the other way, ie, he's had a lot of sex, starting from way young. He in fact had sex last week with some dude that he met the same way he met me.
And while I'm not insulted or put off by this (because I'm not looking to bed anyone, remember) it does call into question if the mystique of me, a virgin, isn't just firing up all his signals.
He made no small bones about it last night. He wants me. I turn him on. It's flattering, but as Roberta Flack said, "Will you still love me tomorrow?"
And again, I don't want to get married, but after the deed is done, and I'm all turned out, is this guy going to be like "Welp, that was fun! I'll call you sometime!"
Bah. So what if he does. Maybe I just need to get it out of my system.
Anyway, we didn't kiss again. In front of The Plaza Hotel.
He made no small bones about it last night. He wants me. I turn him on. It's flattering, but as Roberta Flack said, "Will you still love me tomorrow?"
Maybe that's the next conversation to have. What's he looking for -- a meaningful relationship or a booty call? More importantly, what are YOU looking for? There's nothing wrong with experimenting with one another but you both have to be on the same page or hurt feelings are sure to ensue.
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