Posts Tagged ‘marriage

19
Jul
21

re-entering the world – is my “socialize” setting broken?

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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I really need more poly friends. Friends that I can geek out with and talk to about dating and relationships. Someone who isn’t my husband. My spouse and I are pretty open about the people that we date, and will often even socialize with each other’s metas. (partner’s other partners.) But we tend to keep specific details to ourselves. It’s a sort of amalgamation of “kitchen table poly” where everyone talks and plans together, and “don’t ask don’t tell” poly where partners date separately and don’t share all the intimate details of their other relationships.

Spilling new relationship energy onto an existing relationship can be fun in some ways. Flirting with someone new can make you feel confident, sexy, and amorous. It’s fun to share that joyful, sexy energy with a partner. On the other hand, it can get annoying to hear every schmoopy detail about your love’s new love interest. I understand that.

Part of the reason that I started this blog in the first place is that I felt like I was overwhelming my friends with stories about my dating exploits. I wanted a place where I could tell stories, and recall the fun, exciting, and ridiculous experiences that I had. Not only were my friends having trouble keeping up, so was I! This space became a place that I could chronicle my journey, share my exploits, be vulnerable, be mean, be honest. It’s really interesting to go back and read posts from eight or nine years ago. I have really evolved a lot since then. I’m pretty sure that I’m nowhere near my final form yet!

Life took some unexpected turns in the past years, and I’ve not dated very much recently. COVID factored greatly, as did the fantastic relationship that I have with my spouse/nesting partner. There were professional demands, there was a wedding to plan and host, we moved twice, there were two deaths in our immediate families, and one of us was seriously injured in an accident.

Dating was never completely off the table, but it was certainly not a priority. At least not for me. My man dates a lot more than I do and is often putting himself out there, or at least “chatting with” a few people fairly regularly. He keeps an active dating profile, and is active on several poly groups. He tends to tell me about his interests when they get to the point of meeting in person. If they are just “talking” he may or may not mention them. As of right now, our slightly unusual system works.

I, myself started flirting with an old flame several months ago and it was fun. (Let’s call him Groovy Gardener.) He’s someone that I’ve known since junior high, it’s a long-distance situation, so right now it’s just chat, but it was good for my ego, and a turn-on. I don’t expect anything to come of it, and I have a feeling that it’s not something that he would be open with his partner about, so we didn’t get far into discussing ethics or going beyond fun talks that have been somewhat naughty at times.

Then a few weeks ago, a new contender entered the arena. (We shall dub him Mr. Write because he’s a writer, appreciates a good pun, and also because he’s been somewhat mentoring me with my “legitimate” writing efforts. (Did you kids know that you are illegitimate?)

Well, perhaps he’s not entirely new. A new, old contender, I guess. I will have to look back and see if I mention him at all in past blog entries, but I don’t think so. Today he gets his own designation in my blog anyway! We met about eight or nine years ago through a mutual friend that I no longer associate with. Back then, I felt that we were flirting and vibing nicely, but I wasn’t quite sure. He would respond to a message, and possibly show up to socialize, sing karaoke, or grab a drink, but my former friend liked to stir the pot and had made a few provocative comments in his presence that may have been uncomfortable or misleading. Sometimes he would only stay for a short time, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of her, or if it was simply nothing. I don’t know because whatever flirtation we had basically stalled. I also wasn’t sure if he was poly or knew that I was poly based on conversations with me or with our various mutual acquaintances (including an openly poly friend of his that I dated.)

Anyway, over the years we have socialized a little bit, are friends on social media, have run into each other on occasion, but hadn’t hung out in quite a long time. I married Working Class Whimsy four years ago – a few months before Mr. Write also got married. He and his wife even bought some wedding items from us at our post-wedding garage sale. I would venture to guess that that was the last time we saw each other until about a month ago.

In May, yet another mutual friend (there are several,) passed away. A few weeks later, a private wake/memorial was held in a local bar. I hadn’t been to a bar in 16 months and almost talked myself into not going, but in addition to wanting to honor my friend; it was a private party, safety protocols were in place, and about eight people that I really wanted to see were going to be there. There was karaoke. I hadn’t done karaoke in two years.

When I walked into the bar (fully masked,) the first person I saw was Mr. Write. Hugs and hellos were exchanged, introductions made with his table companions. I realized that about 85% of the people in the bar were not wearing masks, and, being fully vaccinated, I decided to remove mine as well. I admit to having a few moments of moderate panic after I took off the mask, and I said as much. It was truly bizarre to be inside a building without a face covering. Weirder still was getting water from a communal pitcher and drinking from a stack of cups on the bar. It was pretty loud, so conversation was challenging and required leaning in towards the speaker to be effective.

I hopped from table to table in order to socialize with various people. It was simply amazing to be among other humans.  Despite it having been a memorial for a departed friend, I couldn’t stop smiling. The energy was incredibly positive, and I loved talking, singing, and seeing people that I hadn’t seen in a long while. So, when I say that I thought that I was picking up a little vibe with Mr. Write, well…maybe it was my great mood and over-active imagination. Maybe he’s just flirty and outgoing like me…or maybe…has it been so long that I don’t remember what chemistry and flirtation feel like? Do I just flirt with everyone? Probably yes to both.

I spent time with lots of folks – old friends and new, and then made sure to reconnect with Mr. Write on the way out. His tipsy companions (two hot chicks, as I recall,) were friendly and we talked about COVID, our late friend, re-entering society, and crazy hair color. I had experimented with purple, a “mermaid blend,” pinkish-blonde, and hot pink in recent months, and shared a photo or two, which Mr. Write seemed to receive positively. There was some level of comment about how one photo was a bit “boobilicious” and he raised no objection. I made a joke about my body having all the qualities that one enjoys in boobs, just all over. It was funny, and social, and I talked way too much, but it felt good.

Before I even got home I had a couple of messages from him. Funnily, there was nearly an 8-year gap between our Facebook messages. He sent a couple of funny, nerdy, song parodies that he did during COVID. They are very geeky, but I love how secure he is in his nerdiness. There’s a confidence and comfort that is much braver than I. I admire people who don’t particularly mind being ridiculous. It’s delightful. Several messages were exchanged, some of them a little bit deep and personal in nature.

He’s a published author, and I sought his advice about writing. More good exchanges. He was very supportive when I had a little tantrum when I was unable to submit a piece that I wrote due to technical issues. I missed the deadline, then they extended the deadline because the technical issues were on their end. Yay. I got the piece turned in, but really appreciated that he had reached out with his support and advice.

One day, I bought a book that featured one of his short stories and settled into a hammock in my back yard and read. When I got to his story, I snapped a pic of my feet up in the hammock, and his title and name on my kindle.

I captioned the photo: “my current view”

His response was “Huzzah! Reading + legs, what a wonderful summer view 😊 and I like that story.”  

Yes, it does sound flirtatious, but during the month or so that we’ve been chatting, I became aware of the fact that Mr. Write is nearly 19 years younger than I am. This fact alone made me think that I must be crazy to think that we were having a mutual crush. Still, I truly valued our blooming friendship and excellent conversation. Yes, I love flirting, romance, passion, and sex, but I also love people, conversation, and connection. I welcome both.

He invited me to join him and some friends for karaoke a couple of weeks ago. I had plans with my family, so I declined. (Okay, the truth: I went to a dive bar with my family and had a huge burger and a couple of strong drinks and was unable to get up off the couch to go out!)

He’s been out of town for a week or so, and a few days ago, I received a message from Mr. Write asking if I wanted to get together when he’s back in town next week. My response was:

“Yes, Please.”

His response was:

“You are an I-want-to-spend-time-with-you person.”

Well, pardon me if I swooned just a bit. I did. My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest and my tummy felt funny. Because even if that wasn’t intended to be flirting, and even if it was only meant in a platonic, friendly way, it was meaningful to me. I appreciate this person, enjoy his company, and am grateful that he wants to spend time with me. It also at least somewhat validated the feeling I had that we were hitting it off.

So we chatted quite a bit more, and it was a little disjointed because I was high as hell and watching Space Jam: A New Legacy and talking about Porky Pig and Don Cheadle. Somewhere in there, he told me that he was in the bath, and sent a picture of his legs – perhaps a throwback to my hammock legs some weeks ago. I referenced the Cialis bathtub commercials, and he wasn’t familiar, but it led to a discussion of what his tub photo should advertise. I suggested the seven deadly sins, which was well received with more sly flirtation.

Then he said that he was going to need to go soon because he was tired and the phone was heavy in his hand. I made “goodbye” sounds and he said that he was turning on his side so as not to doze off and give himself a black eye. Having been told that he needed to wrap up, I said; “have a good rest of your evening” and he said; “oh wait, one more thing.”

My heart stopped, and those three little dots lingered for what seemed like an eternity.

At last, came the following message:

“Going to ask the question without being too awkward, are we doing a mutual online flirting thing, and is it welcome?’

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Thank you for clarifying.”

“Sounds good. I’m also really game for flirting without direction, but thought it easier to ask.”

“I’m someone that never assumes and welcomes connections of all sorts.”

“I’m someone who overwonders about overstepping”

I love that he was brave enough to ask. I love that my consent was important to him. I also know it’s all very 8th grade and pretty tame, but it gave me quite a boost. I admit that I am currently surfing on quite a NRE (new relationship energy) high. Which is silly since we haven’t even had what could be considered a “first date” – though we’re working on scheduling something for when he gets back in town. I’m just happy and enthusiastic about getting out there again, connecting with someone, and also, I’m thrilled to know that my “radar” isn’t off. Yes, we actually were vibing. Yes, it was mutual. Yes, he likes me.

Oh my god I really do sound like my 8th grade diary!

Be safe out there, friends!

–RD

03
Apr
21

The Return of “Brad Pitt”

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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Is it weird to have a crush on someone that you are regularly shagging? Because I did. I had a crush on “1994 Brad Pitt from Legends of the Fall.” I have written about him a few times in the past in Friday Freak-outs, Flirtations, and Friskiness from March, 2013, Embracing the Unexpected (Firmly, With my Thighs,), I Don’t Often Get Nervous, and but…but…I wore Sexy Underwear and Shaved from the following month, and Brad Pitt Got Fat from October, 2013. His “designation” under the “old system” of naming people that I dated was “P29” – but the system was impersonal and flawed. First, it was hard to keep track of folks without a nickname. Secondly, people age. “P29” would be “P37” if I met him now. Nicknames like “Dancing Dr. Who” and “Teddy Bear Pirate” make it easier to follow. I once said that this guy showed up at my door with a leather hair tie looking like Brad Pitt from Legends of the Fall and the name stuck. He’s been “Brad Pitt” ever since – even when he’s looked more like Kevin Smith before he went vegan.

I really liked “Brad Pitt” and he was a regular hook-up for about a year or so. We had most excellent sex and, when he wasn’t aloof or in a “Pitt” of depression and despair from his PTSD, we had fantastic conversations, lots of common interests, and a remarkably similar world view.

I think I was a little bit in love with him.

I mean, just a little.

I recently responded to a question in a poly group about whether you have to be “in love” with each of your poly partners in order for it to “count” as “poly” or whether it would be considered “friends with benefits” if you weren’t. I’ve never really been a fan of labels, but basically, I feel like we have lots of different levels of friendship, affinity, attraction, common interests, etc with lots of different people. We can love them in different ways, and with different degrees of intensity. Different people meet different needs – that’s the whole point.

Anyway, it’s been a while, but I really liked Brad Pitt. I know that I was a low maintenance booty call for him, and that was really okay for me. I would occasionally see him near the beginning of my relationship with “Working Class Whimsy” and they knew about each other. But as things progressed with “Whimsy” “Brad” and I didn’t see much of each other. I assumed he was figuring his shit out, or maybe had gotten involved with someone – as I had. There was no drama or bullshit, we just sort of faded away from each other. I would occasionally think of him fondly and wish him well.

Then, after years of no contact, he popped up again a couple of months ago, on Facebook. I should be clear – we are not, nor were we ever Facebook friends. It was not that sort of relationship. (Plus, I generally don’t friend people that I date.) He and I mainly communicated by text. So, in the midst of a global pandemic, I get a message from someone using a slightly different nickname than the one that I knew him by, (both different from his real name, which I also know.)

So after about five years of no contact, he reached out and said:

                So, are you married or not?

His profile picture didn’t show his face, and the name was different. In the span of about 30 minutes, I did a complete social media creep on the dude and read about a year’s worth of posts. I soon found video and photographic evidence that it was him, but I already knew. Eventually I responded:

                Hey, it took me a few minutes to figure out who this is.

                Yes, I am.

                How are you surviving the apocalypse?

He said he wasn’t good. We briefly chatted about how fucked the world is, how much we miss singing, about TV shows, video games, movies, and how we were managing during isolation. We talked about fears, feelings, despair…we even talked about how he had legally changed his last name – due in part to his no longer wanting to have his father’s last name. After my social media perusal, I wondered if his name change also correlated to a significant change in relationship status. Did he get married too? There did seem to be a woman in some of his social posts. A chubby, older woman – hmmm, I think he has a type. I mentioned that I had planned to keep my exes last name as my middle name, but then decided that I no longer wanted or needed it. That was literally the entire extent of our “relationshippy” talk.

It’s funny that even after so much time and distance, we were able to be extremely forthright about serious, global, emotional, painful, personal stuff, while completely misfiring on general, social, small talk. It’s always been a bit like that with us – deep, intimate connection, but also weird, guarded, aloofness bordering on “ghosting” – then back again. I think it speaks a lot to his damage, and it’s just the way that we’ve always related to one another.

I’m not sure why he reached out. I like to take it as a compliment – he was thinking about me, looked me up, sent a message. But it probably wasn’t like that. I probably showed up in his “people you may know” on Facebook and he was likely curious about my name change. Still, it was really nice to hear from him and know that he’s alive. If we weren’t in COVID isolation, I may have explored the contact with a little more seriousness and interest, but we are, and it was nice to reconnect a little bit. I continue to think of him fondly, and to wish him well.

–RD

A post-script to my own post.

This could probably be an entire post unto itself, but I don’t want to do sound like I’m obsessing over this guy.

As I mentioned, I’m not Facebook friends with “BP” – never have been. But he did hit me up on Messenger when he reached out, and that’s where we have communicated most recently. When I started to write this post, I went back to our Messenger chat for reference and I noticed something new: we now have one FB friend in common. Wait, what?! That’s new. We did know people in common from the local karaoke scene, but he wasn’t friends with any of them on social media, and told me that he didn’t keep in touch.

Our mutual friend is a slight, attractive, single woman who is much closer to his age than I am. I found myself having a brief flare of…ooooh…is that jealousy? How WEIRD! I’m completely comfortable with the notion of him being married to the chubby gal in his photos, but I had the slightest spurt of “grrrrr” when I saw that these two were recent Facebook friends. Very interesting, and something that I will have to consider more. Not quite what I expected from my open-minded, polyamorous self!

Your thoughts and comments are most welcome.

09
Oct
14

Happy Non-iversary

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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I’ve been blogging so irregularly that I never told you guys…I’m divorced. I mean, okay, I call myself the “Risqué Divorcée” but this started with tales of my separation. I guess the “Saucy Separated Gal” didn’t have the same ring to it. But my divorce has been final for quite awhile now. It came & went without any fanfare or even a mention in this blog. Goodbye 20 + years of marriage. Goodbye joint tax return. Goodbye 25-year relationship. Done.

I don’t like to write about my ex because even before our divorce was final, our marriage was long over. I think it was over for years before either of us realized, actually. I wanted the focus of my writing to be about me and my moving forward. I didn’t want to be the “Bitter Divorcée” blathering about past hurts, what was, what might have been. No, this blog was intentionally meant to be funny, saucy, empowering – a tribute to fat, middle-aged chicks starting over and having fun! While I have definitely had my share of hilarity and adventure, I also have struggles, adjustments, fear, changes, anxiety. Sometimes I wonder how I got here – it’s surreal on occasion to realize that my entire previous identity no longer exists – my house, husband, kids – everything that used to define me is no longer a part of my life. It’s sometimes overwhelming & terrifying. It’s a lot to un-learn.

For example, this week I would have marked my 26th wedding anniversary. Last year I sent my ex a text saying “Happy Non-iversary” and he replied “heh – thanks! You too!” This year I thought about the significance of the date a few times but that was it. I know two other couples with the same anniversary & both were posting photos and best wishes on Facebook and celebrating their respective 20-something-year-old marriages. It’s hard to avoid thinking about the fact that it was also our anniversary.

What am I feeling? Not regret. I’m happy. Much, much happier, in fact. But there’s some weird part of me that feels like I should get credit for having been married longer than most people are today. For making it 20 years longer than the predictions of the detractors who scoffed at me as a teen bride and said we wouldn’t make it. I feel like I should get some credit. Maybe flowers? No. Instead it just came and went without any fanfare. No Throwback Thursday photo. It simply no longer exists. I wonder if my ex thought about it at all.

There’s just so much to un-learn and stop being. Even my boyfriend sometimes refers to my ex as “your husband” – which drives me nuts, by the way. He’s not. We’re not. He was. It’s over. It’s just not possible to un-remember those non-iversaries.

01
Jul
13

the risky prospect of offering your love…

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
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Okay. I’m a lover. No, really. I’m not just talking about sex, dating & intimacy. I’m extremely demonstrative with my friends and…well…everyone. I’m the kind of person that says “thanks, hun, you have a great afternoon” to the cashier at the grocery store. I’m gregarious. I’m outgoing. I say “I love you” to lots of people.

It’s something that is frequently said & texted among my girlfriends & I. It’s how we end a phone call. Most of my friends hug & kiss me hello/goodbye. Both of the men that I’ve lived with in romantic relationships (including my ex-husband,) still exchange “I love yous” with me. The bartender at my regular watering hole/karaoke joint greets me coming & going with a hug. Recently, he’s started saying “love you, gal” when I leave and I naturally respond “love you too, baby.” It just feels right to share my love with these people. Even my curmudgeonly uncle says it to me & ends emails with “love” from him.

Yes, I like to share my love & affection with people that I care about. It’s just how I am and most of my friends seem to be equally expressive & demonstrative.

And yet…you can be sexually involved with someone in the most intimate way possible, have the most fantastic, intense, emotional, physical connection. Exchange fluids, conversation, trust…rim-jobs…and somehow the romantic aspect of that relationship makes those three words dangerous, weighted, terrifying & forbidden.

Oh, you can say “I love fucking you!” “I love your cock!” “I love it when you do that!” and the like, but Lord knows, saying “I love you” to someone who is actually a lover is risky business. Especially if you like how things are going & don’t want them to freak out, get all weird & run away – or to start picking out china patterns. You never know how it’s going to be taken! Or worse, if you will be offered the “I love you return” (as Seinfeld called it.)

Certainly, “I love you” means different things to different people. I think my writing so far gives you a sense of what it means to me. It’s something to be shared. Being someone who identifies as polyamorous may lend to my comfort at dispensing my love among many. To me, it lets them know that I value them as a person and a friend/family member, that I care about them – their health, well-being, activities – and that they are part of my chosen tribe of people.

In the movies & on TV there’s often a big, dramatic, climax when Harry & Sally finally figure out that they LOVE each other and that means lots of kissing followed by MARRIAGE and HAPPILY EVER AFTER. There’s a “love binary” that happens in fiction that often transfers to real-life – particularly with the typical monogamous construct. You “fall in love” and then are expected to be with that one person forevermore – loving them exclusively with a passion so bright & fresh that you would never consider being involved with another person ever again.

It’s not that way for me. If we are romantic partners and I say that I love you – it means that the words have probably been teasing my lips for weeks. It means that you are more than just a fuck. You are likely someone that I have felt an intense connection with. We’ve probably had some intense and insightful conversions. You are probably sensitive, thoughtful, kind, funny, weird, focused, goofy. You’ve made me laugh. You’ve probably made me cum. It doesn’t mean I want to marry you or be exclusive, but it means that I want us to have a relationship. One that lasts awhile. One that we enjoy. It means that even if we breakup sometime when it’s no longer good for us, that I will probably have a degree of love and affection for you. I care about you and I want you to stick around.

Is that really so scary?

(Yes.)

(But I did it anyway.)

Post Script…I came to a realization that I don’t really blog about men that I have feelings for. I blog about the ones that spurn me, hurt me, make me laugh, send me stupid messages that we can mock…the ones that I like a lot? They barely get a mention. I’m going to work on that.

Meanwhile, there’s this new guy. Poly. Two other girlfriends. Really great. Been seeing him steadily for about five weeks now. Emboldened by a fantastic day celebrating equality & gay pride yesterday and during a time that we were neither under the influence or having sex, I told him that I love him. I said “don’t freak out – it’s just a day for sharing it.” He said “oh, I’m not. I know. I love you too.”

The I love you return!

Yay! (<—-my actual response to him saying it to me.)

It’s not so scary, right?

18
Jun
13

Getting dumped by someone I wasn’t even attracted to in the first place

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Okay, kiddies – I’m going to try to get you up to date on recent events and may as well start with this one.

We’ll call him the little pirate bear & identify him as M41. Little Pirate Bear messaged me on OKC in a pretty bold and flirtatious fashion near the end of April. For those keeping score, I was still messing around with my young, hot booty call boys at that time and wasn’t that excited about this guy. He indicated that he’d just come out of a long-term relationship and didn’t know what he was looking for but needed to start looking. Okay, there’s a warning bell sounding in there because I can be kind of a handful, but he said that he loved kickin’ curves and loving a woman’s body, so he brought enough flirtatious zest to the table to get my attention. Subsequent conversations seemed to indicate that we had quite a lot in common as far as our personal relationship history was concerned and I felt like he was at the exact place that I was about 10 months ago – dipping my toe into dating for the first time in 20+ years, uncertain about what was available or what I wanted, lacking confidence, terrified but also excited to be taking those first steps in a new direction.

For as bawdy, ribald & raunchy as I can most certainly be, I’m also a real human being with the ability to be kind, empathetic, a good listener, a good friend, encouraging and nurturing. I felt like I could be supportive and encouraging to this guy and help set him on his feet for the dating scene – even if we didn’t hit it off romantically. It is notable to mention that our match score was around 90% – so he was similar to me politically, socially, sexually, ethically & concerning lifestyle. He was also poly-friendly. I was cautiously optimistic in meeting him. I figured that he wasn’t ready for me, but that I could probably be an encouraging friend and maybe more. I agreed to meet him for a drink.

He arrived early, I arrived late (due to traffic – a fact I communicated to him en-route) and when I spied him in the bar my internal response was a decisive “ugh”. I wasn’t attracted. He was a bit overdressed for a casual meeting – wearing a sports coat & slacks. He was short, stout & very grim looking overall. Still, I attributed a lot of that to nerves and newness. I soon came to realize that I was the first date that he’d had since his marriage. Which meant that I was the first woman besides his wife that he’d gone out with in something like 22 years. I cut the guy some slack and pointedly ignored his profuse sweating and frowning intensity. I bought him a beer.

Whether it was the alcohol or me, our talk flowed and we really seemed at ease with one another conversationally. He was smart, funny, self-deprecating, forthright, complimentary and comfortable. We talked for a long time on many subjects – including exes, marriage, kids, dating, poly, group sex, open relationships and such “dangerous” topics for a first date. It did feel more like a first date than a first meet-up too. There was a bit more expectation and pressure that was present than just a standard quick drink. We parted ways about three hours after we met – with a chaste hug and plans to see the new Star Trek film when it came out in two weeks.

I half expected that we would part with a kiss or that during our walk to my car he would take my hand. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t because he was nervous or because we didn’t click, but I did get a pretty strong “friend zone” vibe from the little bear. However, if you have read my recent thoughts about ego and evolution, you will understand when I say that I tried to set aside the fact that I wasn’t super attracted to this guy but I did actually like him a lot as a person. I was sincerely trying to look at the big picture with people – and to date people that shared common interests and experiences – whether they were super sexy or not!

Our second date went similarly to the first. He was less nervous, I let him see my true inner nerd at the Star Trek flick and one time he touched my ankle in a flirtatious way. Other than that, nothing pertaining to touch or flirting happened. We did extend our time together by hitting a bar for happy hour after the movie, but I was still getting the comfy friend vibe and that was okay since I didn’t feel any particular chemistry on my end. I was considering him as an interesting and fun person though.

Our texts and occasional phone calls between meetings were another story. His messages, attentiveness & flirtation outside of our 1:1 interactions were much more forward, flirty & occasionally naughty. Sometimes we would even talk about sexual preferences and he would occasionally make a quip about how I would taste or something like that. Finally, I shot the elephant in the room by telling him that I was intrigued by the fact that his messages were a lot more flirtatious than he was in person. I essentially asked him if he was more comfortable dealing in text or if he was just messing around or what.

His response was basically that he felt like we were sort of “drinking buddies” and that he didn’t really “feel anything beyond that” with me but…well, I am a beautiful, sexy woman and interesting, we have fun together & a lot in common…we’ll see. I told him that I was glad he said that because I felt similarly. I found him very comfortable, fun and great to talk to, but that I wasn’t sure whether we were going to be romantic with each other. I also said that I didn’t think he was quite ready for me & that I was a lot to handle straight out of the gate. He seemed to take that as a personal challenge.

We made plans to get together on the Saturday of Memorial weekend. I had plans to play games with friends on Sunday and was meeting a new guy that I was very interested in on Monday. I told little bear that I would cook and he offered to help or bring wine, etc. We talked about mixers, drinks, etc and finally came a text from him that said “should I pack a bag?” He followed immediately by saying that this would determine what and how much he would drink. I said “yes, absolutely! You are welcome to be comfortable, stay & be at ease. My guest bed is made up and since we are grown-ass adults, we can see how it goes and decide where you should sleep.”

I was quite pleased with that message and had generally decided that I liked him enough that if we got comfortable and chemistry kicked in, I would sleep with him. I mean, it had been several weeks for me, quite awhile for him and the flirting & dirty talk had kicked in with some humor – I knew that we would both enjoy it. However, I had the notion that it would probably be a bit awkward for him and probably consist of a few fumbling attempts followed by maybe two minutes of thrusting and that’s it.

I also have to admit that I had adopted a somewhat cavalier attitude of “benevolence” where the little bear was concerned. Like I was doing him a favor by throwing him a little action. Not so much a pity fuck, but maybe close to that. More like proving to myself that my ego didn’t need to have a 29-year-old Brad Pitt and this guy needed to get laid, so why not?

He showed up with flowers & I opened the door wearing a dress that essentially said “this is yours if you want it.”

He did.

We had drinks, ate dinner, flirted more, he did the dishes, we were comfortable with each other, watched some TV, snuggled, held hands, kissed a bit…and eventually went to bed.

OMIGOD. He was amazing in the sack. I mean, crazy amazing. He ate pussy and ass like it was Gordon Ramsay’s signature Beef Wellington and he hadn’t had a decent meal in years. His hands and mouth knew exactly how to bring me to more orgasms than I could count. His penis was fairly small and his testicles were bigger than anything I’d seen outside of a 4-H fair, but that was secondary to some amazing, amazing oral and digital action that he simply liquefied me with. We managed to have intercourse despite the fact that his dick had a case of nerves. He could get it up & keep it up, but he couldn’t cum. Therefore, I let him lead and set the pace. That pace was to clean wear me out. Okay, maybe not so clean. There was plenty of dirty.

We talked a lot – his ex had basically started to consider sex to be a bad thing once they had kids. He had been made to feel ashamed of his sexuality and treated like a deviant and a predator. I like to think that I helped him get past that a little bit. We talked about poly and about what that meant to us. He said that he was just happy to be with me. He made us breakfast. It was very comfortable and companionable. I had plans to go play games with my friends that (now Sunday) evening and was putting together a dish to pass when I suddenly asked him if he would like to join me. I’d invited very few of my lovers to come hang out with my friends, but in the moment I was really, sincerely feeling it. I had been surprised by this man and also more than a little charmed. Also, he was meeting another lady for lunch on Monday and I lived much closer to where they were meeting than he did. It made sense to have him stay another night. He agreed and came to my friends’ house with me.

We had a perfectly great time playing cards and games and talking with my friends. He was charming, funny and personable and fit in quite well. Later that night we had a lot more excellent sex and it was really intimate and intense. I started to think that I could really enjoy keeping this one around. In my mind, I was thinking that I could have two regular lovers who were dirty, nerdy & fun. I was imagining living a “normal” polyamorous lifestyle with two men that I could see socially and also have great sex with. Of course, I wasn’t meeting the other guy until that Monday either, but I knew based on our extensive conversations that we were going to totally hit it off. I wondered if my blog would suffer due to the boring old two-man show that I imagined.

The following week was peppered with lots of texts and a few phone calls. We made plans to see Man of Steel when it came out and arranged to get together the following weekend as well. I really liked the little Pirate Bear and we had an affinity that made him really easy to talk to. I knew that he was trying to get together with a third gal sometime and that he’d talked to her a few times. I was delighted that we could be open and comfortable talking about that too.

The next weekend he came over again. I told him about meeting the other guy and that it had gone very well. (In another blog entry I will tell you just how well it went!) He told me he didn’t think that things were going to progress with his first lady but that he had plans to see the other gal on Thursday. We were very physical and I found myself really drawn to him – stopping to touch him or kiss him while he was cooking dinner, etc. During dinner, however, he asked what happens if he develops feelings for someone. I said “that’s great” and said that the whole idea of poly was that you could love and care about multiple people. He then said that he was very interested in the other gal but that she was not poly-friendly. He said that he had been up-front with her about our “preexisting plans”  and told her about our date, but he was concerned about what would happen if they hit it off. He threw in a “not that I don’t have feelings for you, but…”

I had a sudden, sinking feeling that he was setting up a scenario where he would ride off into the sunset with this new gal and throw me over. I was a little stunned because here we were enjoying good sex, good food, fun conversation and companionship and he was basically worried about what would happen if he fell for the new gal. I suggested that he could just simply tell her that he wasn’t ready to settle down into a serious relationship and that he was just dating right now. He seemed somewhat unsatisfied with that notion. We had a great day and night together and he finally achieved orgasm with me – twice, in fact. When he left he wished me well on my upcoming trip & we talked about having another movie date when I got back.

Again, we exchanged texts during the week, but not with the same degree of frequency. Okay, I understood that he was managing three different women at that point and that he was somewhat new to dealing with that. I was also enjoying the company and attention of the other new guy in my life and fine with that. On Friday, I was planning to see the new guy again and getting ready to head out of town on Saturday. Little Bear sent me a chatty text Friday afternoon before I headed to work. At some point I asked him how his date went on Thursday. Several minutes passed before he responded. His response took five texts.

He explained that it went so well on Thursday that he needed to cancel our date to see Man of Steel. He appreciated the time we spent together but he told me from the start that he thought we were just drinking buddies and he didn’t feel the same spark for me that he did with this new woman. He had wanted to do this in person after my trip, but he couldn’t begin a new relationship with this woman with this “unknown element” still out there. He apologized, saying that he thought that I was expressing some feelings towards him that he could not return. Then he said “you can hate me & drink & complain about me, but I can’t screw this up. Sorry again.”

Ugh. I just got dumped by a guy I didn’t even want to have a second date with. Seriously?

Regardless, I was a very, very good sport.

I responded by saying that I had warned him that he wasn’t ready for me and kindly said that I wasn’t expecting him at all. I called him “a pleasant surprise” and said how much I enjoyed our time together. I said that I thought his mind had no problem with poly but that his heart might have objections. I told him that he was good, honorable, kind & passionate and that he should remember that and value it. I told him to lighten up – we’d had fun and there was no regret and certainly no hate!

Pretty awesome of me, right? Guess what his response was? NOTHING! Seriously? You met a gal yesterday and today you’re going steady & can’t even talk to me over text? Jeez! A total dump and run!

Three hours later, my phone rang at a point in my workday when I couldn’t answer it. It was the Little Pirate Bear & the voicemail that he left made it sound like he had either pocket dialed me or just hung up without intending to leave a message. I tried calling him back a few minutes later and he didn’t answer. I sent a text asking if he’d meant to call. He eventually sent a text saying it was a total pocket dial and telling me to have fun on my trip and “Thx 4 all your understanding.” Well damn, you’re welcome. I said sure and thanked him for saying that, acknowledging that I was a tad butthurt that he hadn’t responded at all. I said “Best to you” and let it go.

I was a bit annoyed at the abrupt end to our whirlwind romance, but I guess I had seen the writing on the wall. I am happy to report that two days later he sent me a very nice text wishing me a happy birthday and inquiring about how I was doing in Vegas. I kept my response very brief and didn’t engage after he responded. No need to make it more awkward.

Funny enough, I had a new message on OkCupid this past Thursday and noticed that little bear’s photo was no longer next to his messages in my inbox. Lo & behold – after knowing his gal for exactly one week, he had pulled his dating profile. Wow. I predict that this “poly-friendly” guy will be married again within the year.

I told you he wasn’t ready for me!

–RD

11
Apr
13

mr. right…now…

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
Categories: Uncategorized
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I don’t know where to go from here. I just wrote a rather serious bit about religion and LGBTQ and hate to continue in a melancholy direction. I feel like the next chronological place to go is with the guy that I mentioned as my “fuck buddy” in a recent blog. The one that said I think like a man when it comes to relationships. I’m afraid that one might wind up being somewhat serious as well.

As a writer I have always been the type to “mentally outline” before I put pen to paper (yes, I am that old!) When I was being taught how to write a research paper in school I was always rather affronted that we had to turn in rough drafts, outlines, note cards, etc. Now that most of us write on computers and can cut & paste and edit on the fly, these steps in “writing properly” seem even more nonsensical to me. With blogging, I find that I come up with topics that I want to cover and do just a topic list and then spend some time organizing my thoughts internally – mentally. Which is what I’ve been doing today on the subject of “that guy” – and it’s managed to make me somewhat sad.

I talked about the power of “closure” in relationships last week (read the comments after the “way back machine” blog – how awesome is that?)  It can really feel good when you are able to have an exchange that helps you achieve some sort of peace and prospective. This is especially true at the end of relationships – particularly meaningful ones. I didn’t really have that with this guy and it’s…dissatisfying.

I don’t think that I feel hurt, exactly. I think that we had run our course and that our end was imminent, but it could have gone differently.

And guess what? I’m telling it backwards. Let’s start at the beginning. (Bet you wish I used those stupid outlines right about now, aren’t you?)

Last summer was tough. Ending a marriage and redefining a 25-year relationship was intense. Add kids, money and a house full of stuff that we had to divvy up? The entire summer was stressful, painful and despite our best efforts, often filled with fights, drama and heartache. I’m proud of how we have come through it and have found a friendship on the other side, but late July/early August was the worst of it.

I want to give you the context surrounding me meeting S46. I had had sex one time in the past nine months. If you have read more than two of my blog entries you know that was a major problem for me! I had just decided it was time to start dating, had put my profile up on POF and had met or talked to a few men, but not many. I had received my first “cougar” offer from the 23-year-old tatted guy but mostly I was…learning to be alone. I was consciously doing things that I wanted to do for me and forcing myself to get out of the house from time to time.

One evening I went to the casino. It was a pretty busy night and there were lots of social players there. Also, I was winning. I had been playing a Three Kings slot then moved to another machine, hit something big and went to cash out and “fold some bills” as I like to call it. That’s when I put some money back in my wallet after winning a bit and then go back and play some more. When I came back, this guy that had been playing a few machines down from me was at the machine that I had left and I took the slot next to him. Then he started a winning streak and hit a big bonus. At some point – we started teasing each other a little bit about the fact that he had taken over “my machine” and we continued chatting for the next several hours. We move around to different machines together – making sure that there are two free together so we can keep talking.

Then conversation turned to Vegas – I had a trip coming up in a few months, he was thinking of going…are we flirting now…hmmm…I start looking at him as a man rather than just a guy I’m chatting with. He’s geeky in an “old guy” sort of way not a hipster kind. He’s wearing business clothes – charcoal dress pants, button down shirt. He’s bald with a little mustache. Not really my type, but I’m enjoying our interaction and I’m starting to pick up a little…chemistry…? In talking about where to stay in Vegas he says he stays at a friend’s condo. Then he pointedly says “if it’s not obvious why I stay at my friend’s place it’s because I’m married.” He then goes on to tell me that he asked his wife for a divorce and she suggested they should just have an open marriage so that’s what they have now. Okay, but he seems pretty bitter or at least droll about it.

Chat continues, I reveal that I am recently separated, he asks if I’m getting out much & I tell him about the “cougar encounter” with the 23-year-old earlier in the week. He says “yeah, well, I can beat that – my 52-year-old wife is out fucking her 30-year-old boyfriend.” Without missing a beat, I say “good for her. At least she didn’t have him move in with you.” This got his full attention and we talked about the pros, cons & stupidities of open marriage & poly relationships.

I’m not going to go too far into that as far as my personal history is concerned, but it is something that my ex & I tried to do during the last several years of our marriage. I think that the model of multiple relationships can really work and is something that I am basically living right now, but we did it wrong. It’s impossible to support secondary relationships when your primary is disintegrating and untended. Anyway, S46 led me to believe that he was in an open, poly marriage.

As winnings were dwindling and the evening wore on, he finally stood up and asked if I liked sushi. I answered that I did and he did a little head gesture towards the new, fancy sushi joint at the casino and indicated that I should join him. I was like “um, are you asking if I would like to have sushi right now with you? Use your words.” This pretty much set forth our communication style for the next 4 months or so.

We had a very nice dinner with good conversation. I decided that he was sort of cute after all – taller than I’d realized, nice build under the business attire, dimples, good smile, nice eyes. And hey, I was on my first date in months, right? During dinner we exchanged numbers and talked about getting together again – maybe as casino buddies.

At that point I wasn’t sure if this was a lonely married guy who was looking for someone to hang out with or what exactly, but it didn’t matter too much to me. I was happy to make new friends, but I really didn’t expect to hear from him again.

We parted ways with a handshake of all things. I really pegged him as a married guy who was uncomfortable with how far he had taken his flirtation with me. Again, I didn’t expect to hear from him again and I didn’t hear from him for a full month after that first day.

I feel like this should be the end of this blog entry. It’s already pretty long and It’s not my favorite in terms of humor or thrill factor, honestly.

I promise this one gets better…for awhile…