Moar thinky thoughts

I was talking to my friend Dom about the grocery debacle and actually he gave me some interesting insights. I was like “I keep goddamned telling them the issue is them not keeping me informed but they keep glossing on over that and trying to make it about something else! WTF?!?”

Dom reminded me that a lot of people have had to deal with passive-aggressive partners before, and after a while of dealing with that, you start to assume that nothing can ever be taken at face value. So, if The Dandy and Dandette are used to people (maybe even each other) saying one thing and meaning another, they may be trying to respond to what they think I’m getting at instead of recognizing that there’s no hidden meaning, it’s not a trick or a trap, this is me directly telling them what I want.

Dom also pointed out that they probably didn’t tell me about not having gotten groceries because they were trying to avoid me being mad. Like they figured that I’d be annoyed by them not having gone, and they didn’t want to face the awkwardness of me being annoyed at them, so they just…didn’t tell me they didn’t go. Even though I was obviously gonna figure it out eventually.

And they’ve both been in abusive relationships before (I’m starting to wonder if their relationship has elements of abuse; certainly it’s kind of dysfunctional) so (Dom explains) even when I tell them “Look, I want you to let me know when you don’t do a thing. I won’t be mad, I just need to know so I can work something out” they probably think I’m lying and I’ll totes be sooo mad. And so they’ll go into avoidance mode and still not tell me.

On another note, after I angry-typed my original post about the grocery debacle here, I felt like I’d hogged up Dandette’s room long enough and should vacate to be polite. Which meant joining The Dandy in our room. I had no idea how to sort of integrate myself back in again; I’ve never lost my temper with him quite so badly and I didn’t know how he’d react with me. Would he have realized that he did do a thoughtless thing, and be contrite? Would he be angry because I’d yelled? Would we talk about it?

I came into the room and he was at his desk on the internet. He ignored me so I followed suit and ignored him back. I decided to take a bath. I’d recently bought some body wash and left it on the shelf by the bed, but there’s a lot of brick-a-brack on that shelf so I stood there a while, looking for it. The area with the shelf is directly behind The Dandy’s desk chair, just out of arms’ reach. As I stood there, I heard his chair squeak as he rotated it to face me.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

Just then I located the shower gel so I held it up and said “this.” I looked directly at him for the first time since entering the room. His eyes and body language told me that he was looking for reassurance; he was wanting to touch/hug me but feeling tentative about it because he didn’t know if I was still mad. I was still mad; he’d never validated my feelings or apologized or anything else that would actually have helped defuse my anger. If he had done any of that then, I would have completely melted and had a huge relief-cry and then everything would have been fine. But he didn’t initiate any kind of talking about it at all – not even asking me outright if I was still angry. He let it continue being an elephant in the room. And since every time I had tried to talk about it he’d acted like a stubborn jackass, I wasn’t about to be the one to try again.

I took a bath and then came back to the bedroom – towel-wrapped and still a bit damp – to lie on the bed and let the rest of the water evaporate off me for a bit. The Dandy got up to pee or something and tentatively gave my head a friendly scritch in passing. His vibe was apologetic and can-we-be-friends-again. “So this is how it’s gonna be,” I thought to myself. “He’ll piss me off and then refuse to talk it through, and then eventually he’ll ‘apologize’ by petting me with a sheepish look on his face and if I don’t flinch away it means I’ve forgiven him.” I wasn’t at all sure I was okay with that.

And then the next night, Dandette made us the meal she’d promised me two days before and not gotten around to (nut-crusted trout fillets and salad). She ducked out as soon as we came to the table and didn’t eat with us – she does this sometimes when she’s feeling anxious and not up to being around people, but I suspect that on that day she was avoiding me because she was afraid I’d want to talk some more about the grocery issue. And I thought “So she won’t talk about things either and instead she’ll ‘apologize’ with food and then keep on avoiding me until she thinks things have blown over.”

Is this how things work here? Instead of talking things out, everyone avoids issues and hopes they just go away? God, how many millions of tiny, accumulated emotional wounds are they each concealing by this point? How many long-standing, burning resentments? I can’t even.


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These people are driving me crazy.

Now I know where The Dandy gets his refusal to talk through issues from, I guess. Or vice-versa.

A few days after the awful drunken incident, I got up all my nerve and asked Dandette at the dinner table if we could lay off alcohol for a while*. I assumed this would be the beginning of us talking through what happened that night so I’d rehearsed, over and over again the gentlest possible ways of saying what I needed to say. It made me feel barfy to have to face it all head-on but I figured it was the only way to make my feelings clear and make sure Dandette was less likely to repeat any of the shitty things she did.

But no. When I took a deep breath and casually asked “Hey would it be okay if we stopped drinking for a while?” she said “Yep” and then immediately segued into another topic of discussion, giving off a palpable vibe of “I know you didn’t like how I acted last night but I don’t want to explicitly hear about it because it’ll be too upsetting.” And I didn’t have the nerve to pursue it. But since that night she’s done some very tame versions of the things I didn’t like (fishing for compliments from me on how sexy she is, poking me in the boob and going “Ooooh, squishy!”) so clearly she doesn’t know what exactly I disliked about that night. She just knows it’s something, and she doesn’t want to feel all bad and guilty hearing about it. Or maybe she just assumes I don’t like being around drunk people for no other reason than them being drunk. She has phrased it that way before: “I know you hate being around people who are drunk.” Like just the fact of someone having had a lot of alcohol is my problem and not the invariable sloppiness and boundary violations and maudlin soliloquies that come with it.

Tangent necessary to get to my second example of discussion avoidance: I spent an entire day feeling crazy and gaslighted because The Dandy refused to concede my point about the grocery thing, like, at all. Or refused to hear my point. See, I brought it up yet again the day after it first came up because I didn’t feel like anything had been resolved. I said “So, about yesterday…all I want is for you to let me know if you didn’t get to an errand you said you’d do so I know it still needs to be done and I can maybe pick up the slack. That’s reasonable, right?”

He said “No, I don’t think it is. It sounds like you’re just mad at Dandette for being anxious and me for being sick**.”

Oh, for – I didn’t even say anything about that. I have anxiety and other health issues, myself; I’m the last one to be judgey about this stuff. My point is that if you or Dandette say you’re going to do something – an important thing like getting more groceries when we’re almost out – but then you don’t do it, I need to know that it didn’t get done. I need you to keep me informed so I can decide what I’m gonna do from there. Get it?”

And The Dandy replied that when he used the word “unreasonable” he was talking about how angry I got that night and I was like “Okay, yes, I feel bad for that, I didn’t intend to yell like that. I was exhausted and sore and probably having a blood sugar crash and I snapped. I’m sorry for that- ” The Dandy seemed mollified “- But you do get what I’m saying, right? I need to be kept in the loop about things that affect me.” And he went silent and stared at me with a belligerent expression like I was pushing him to do something completely crazy and unreasonable and he was bracing himself for a fight to defend his boundaries.

Which made me lose my patience somewhat and I said various versions of “For fuck’s sake, just do your best to fulfill your agreements and if you can’t then tell me you couldn’t. This is basic adulting. I can’t understand why it seems so foreign to you.” I said this to him in the car on the way to my model gig (he did end up driving me) and when he still didn’t say anything I said it to him some more when I got home. And he still sat there being belligerent and silent.

Eventually he said something that broke the stalemate – I forget what. I think maybe he finally admitted that it wasn’t unreasonable for me to want to know whether or not there was food in the house. But then he kinda acted like the argument was over and I was like “Well, I kinda need to hear an ‘I can understand why you were frustrated and I will try harder to keep you informed going forward.’ During all of this you’ve basically acted like I was crazy for feeling like I do. You still haven’t validated my feelings or said that you’d try to change. And without that, I don’t know how to stop feeling angry.”

The Dandy sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation but didn’t fucking say anything. “This,” I said. “This right here. What’s going through your mind when you get silent like this?” He didn’t tell me, of course. And I honestly can’t even remember how our fight ended. Probably he grudgingly said “Yeah, those things you said, I concur with them” or something and I decided that would have to do.

So the day after that, I brought up my fight with The Dandy to Dandette, really only as a pretext to make sure she knew my core issue with everything, too: being kept informed. ‘Cause when we’d texted about this, she too kept getting stuck on “you’re mad at me for not doing the thing” even though I expressly said no, I just want to be told when a thing doesn’t get done.

We were hanging out in the living room and I casually said “So all day yesterday The Dandy and I kept talking about the thing with the groceries and he basically made me feel like I was going crazy.”

Dandette’s demeanor completely changed from relaxed to “Ohhhh shit” at this point but I forged ahead because I didn’t know what else to do.

“All I said,” I continued, “Is that if something important doesn’t get done, I need to know so I can figure out a plan B if necessary. I mean I was at a grocery store that night. I could have picked up some stuff for myself, if not everyone else. But nobody told me that I needed to. And The Dandy kept missing my point and thinking I was mad about the lack of groceries itself. Which was not the issue at all.”

Dandette paused. “You made me feel like shit about that, to be honest,” she said finally.

I said I was sorry and that wasn’t my intention at all – I gave her the spiel yet again about how I’d never judge about her having an anxiety attack and not being able to do a thing. I just want to know the thing wasn’t done. That’s all. (God WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR BOTH OF THEM TO GRASP.)

Dandette said she didn’t realize it was important to me to be kept informed like that but she’d try to do so in future. (GOD WHY ARE THE TWO OF THEM SO WEIRD. I REALLY DON’T THINK THIS IS ROCKET SCIENCE. THEY SAID “WE’RE GONNA DO A HUGE GROCERY RUN TODAY WITH THE CAR TODAY.” THEREFORE I CAME HOME EXPECTING THERE TO BE FOOD IN THE HOUSE. THERE WAS NOT FOOD IN THE HOUSE. IF THEY HAD TOLD ME EARLIER THAT THEY HAD NOT IN FACT PURCHASED ANY FOOD, I COULD HAVE DONE SO ON MY WAY HOME.) Then  she change the subject, so I guess that was the end of our discussion whether I liked it or not.

Oh, just so you know, this is the text conversation I had with Dandette while I was out that night angrily getting myself something for dinner:

Me: Make The Dandy take you out for dinner.

Dandette: Where did you go?

Me: Grocery store to see if they have something I want. [New message] You two also need to eat and I very much want to be alone so if you could go eat somewhere that would be good.

Dandette: Shit I’m so sorry. I can go to the store and grab something to make for dinner. He’s not going to want to go out while he’s sick. [New message, I guess responding to my second one] Ohhh ok.

Me: Let me know which way things end up going, then – if I get space or not.

Dandette: He’s in the shower right now. The brain weasels are making me ask – did I do something wrong?

Me: I get anxious when there’s not enough food. At least twice now, you and/or The Dandy said you’d do a grocery run but didn’t. And (this is key) didn’t TELL ME. So I go home from work, right past a grocery store, to find there’s nothing and I’m out of spoons to go out again. [new message] I was AT a grocery store after work today. I only picked up drinkable yogurt for work. I wanted to text you and confirm that groceries had indeed been gotten but I pretty much figured nobody would answer me in time.***

Dandette: I’m sorry I ran out of spoons today. I’ll go to the grocery store right now. You can hide in my room. I’ll be a while there. [New message] I’m such a useless piece of shit.

Me: I  do understand about the fickle spoons. I just need *communication*. I can deal with plans changing. I can’t deal with people saying they’ll do a thing but then just not doing it. [new message] And I get home and ask about groceries and The Dandy is like “Oh, no, Dandette ended up passing out” like dude YOU HAVE A CAR and working legs and a working brain why can you not do this unless Dandette is awake?

Dandette: He’s not very good with getting groceries. I should have just sucked it up and gone.

Me: Just texting to say it didn’t get done and I’d need to pick something up would have been fine.

So, reviewing this now with a clearer head…I mean Dandette has anxiety issues and if I could do it over again I’d’ve sugarcoated things more but I don’t think I said anything particularly horrible or seemed like I was trying to make anyone feel bad – just trying to make it very clear that I was inconvenienced, and what to do about it next time. Considering this exchange happened while I was angry enough to punch someone in the fucking face until it collapsed, I think I did pretty well. I wonder if The Dandy told her about my yelling etc, after I’d left for the store and Dandette had come back from having a smoke? Or I wonder if Dandette assumed my wanting to be alone meant I hated the two of them, even though I never said that?

(My rage did feel centred on the two of them but it also felt sort of overblown to me, like maybe PMS or a bad bout of anxiety poisoning my thinking. I really just wanted time to cool down and figure my shit out without accidentally losing my temper at them for no good reason. Also, I like being alone and Dandette is almost always around so I’ve had frequent times of feeling kind of boxed-in and overly-peopled and wishing everyone would gtfo for a bit even when I wasn’t mad at anyone).

Anyway, that’s twice recently that I tried to have a serious face-to-face talk with Dandette to let her know what I need from her in order to be happy here and she cut it short as fast as she possibly could. I don’t think it bodes well.


*To her everlasting credit, she invited me to ask this of her anytime I needed to because she knows I was married to an alcoholic and have some triggers around alcohol.

**I forgot to mention he was getting over a cold that day. This is the excuse he used for not getting food (but, tellingly, only after he saw I was angry about it). I call bullshit. First off, Dandette says he’s always needed to be coddled and prodded and hand-held into getting groceries – and I’ve somewhat noticed this, too, even in my short time here. Second, even at the peak of this cold he wasn’t feeling shitty enough to call in sick at work, and the day before the grocery incident he told me he was actually feeling a lot better – that maybe he sounded worse because he was coughing so much, but that was just the germs working their way out. He was not by any means so sick that he couldn’t get off the couch.

***The Dandy never checks his phone. Dandette does, but her sleep schedule is all over the place and indeed it sounds like she was having a post-anxiety-attack nap all that afternoon and would not have been available to read any texts.

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I’m just fucking furious about All The Things today. So much so that I wonder if it’s even genuine emotion or some hormonal thing. Maybe I’ve just been suppressing a lot of shit and it’s not suppressable anymore. I dunno.

Grocery-wise, we’ve been running on fumes for days now if not a week. And on at least two occasions, The Dandy (WHO HAS A CAR) and/or Dandette (WHO DOESN’T HAVE A JOB AND HAS ALL DAY TO GET SHIT DONE) has said that they would go do a huge grocery run. And then they didn’t. And they didn’t bother to tell me this. So I come home from work (passing right by a grocery store along the way, btw, but not picking anything up because I assume the people I care about actually fucking did what they said they were gonna do) and I get home and there’s still practically no food and now I’m too exhausted to go out again and get anything.

Yesterday I was off work and Dandette asked me in the morning what I’d like for dinner. I told her, and she said great, yes, she would go buy the stuff for that and make it that night. But as of 5pm she was wrapped in blankets on the couch and clearly settling in for a nap, and I began to suspect that she would not in fact be picking up groceries and making the thing I’d requested. But I didn’t want to ask, because that would seem like pressure and also I’d have to wake her up. So I awkwardly waited around for a few hours and finally at 9pm The Dandy caved in and made pasta. Dandette woke up as we were eating that and had a little apology/freakout over not having made us anything. I can’t really bring myself to give a shit about her feelings here. She deliberately went to sleep in the evening and didn’t set an alarm of any kind. She knew way ahead of time that she wouldn’t be getting groceries or making dinner. Freaking out after the fact seems like too little, too late, and anyway why didn’t she just say “I’m having a really bad brain day and I can’t do it, sorry”? I would have gone out and picked up some food for us, then, instead.

So then the new plan is for The Dandy and Dandette to do a grocery run today. I go to work – where the instructor has me doing poses for fifty minutes without a break and I was too wussy to say anything and afterward I’m just completely drained. I stop in at a grocery store on the way home to get drinkable yogurts for work snacks – I’m the only one who has those so it’s only fair that I should get ’em. It occurs to me that possibly The Dandy and Dandette didn’t go get groceries, but they never respond to texts in a timely fashion and usually won’t pick up the phone, either, so it’s useless trying to ask. I debate getting myself some dinner but if it turns out they did get groceries, it will look like I didn’t have any faith in them. So I just get the yogurts. I come home, wrecked and sore and pissy, and ask The Dandy – who comes out to greet me in his pajamas – about our grocery status. “Oh, yeah, Dandette had a bad day and had to crash so we didn’t go,” he says, as if it’s just a given that if she doesn’t go for groceries, he can’t, either.






I sat on the couch for a while, silently, so full of rage I could barely see. The Dandy eventually asked what was wrong.

“I’m just deeply irritated that nobody’s gotten groceries. Still. We’ve been low for days now and at least twice you’ve said you’d get them and you didn’t and you didn’t even tell me so I could pick something up myself.” And then I just kind of lost it and started yelling that I’ve been working all the time lately and dealing with chronic stress and shoulder pain and back pain and insomnia and trying to process all the shit that happened with Dandette the other night (Dandette was presently out for a smoke, hence my yelling about it freely) and The Dandy’s been off all day and HAS A CAR and HAS ENERGY and he apparently opted to just sit around on the couch all day instead of making sure there was food in the house. And of course he didn’t bother to even tell me that he hadn’t done it because hey, why would anyone ever fucking tell me what was going on or hold to their promises or anything silly like that?

And I stomped off and hurled my knapsack into the bedroom and lay on the bed for a bit. Then I decided, fuck it, I would go back out to the grocery store and get myself something to make for dinner, just for me. The Dandy had suggested ordering pizza but some days my body tells me I’ve hit some kind of quota on bready things and today was one of those days. My body was also telling me it wanted vegetables. So I decided I would go get a trout fillet and some stuff for a salad. As I stomped back out and put my shoes on, The Dandy shuffled out of the living room to ask where I was going. I told him I was going out to get myself food.

“I can go with you,” The Dandy said. “I mean, I have a car…”

I was sorely tempted to scream “OH, DO YOU? I DIDN’T NOTICE!” but instead I just flung myself out the door and slammed it behind me.

At the grocery store I texted Dandette (who does check her phone often when awake; the problem at the other grocery store before was that I figured, rightly, that she was probably passed out) asking if she could get The Dandy to take her out to dinner because I really, really wanted to be alone.

She asked if it was something she’d done and I said that I get anxious when there’s not much food in the house and it was exacerbating it that they kept saying they’d get more but didn’t. I emphasized that if they’d TOLD me they didn’t get stuff, I would have taken care of it myself, but they never said anything, they just didn’t do what they said they’d do and then I’d come home with no energy left and find that there was no food. Dandette of course chose to wallow in a whole “I’m sorry my anxiety kept me from going to the store, I’m a useless piece of shit, blah blah blah self-flagellation blah” even though I repeatedly said that the issue is actually the not keeping me informed.

Although, just between you and me? Yeah, I am annoyed that she didn’t go. I know it was due to anxiety and exhaustion and I get it and I sympathize. I’m not going to push her to do things she doesn’t feel able to do. I want her to take care of herself first and foremost. But her official role here was supposed to be our “housewife” – including getting groceries and cooking dinner every night. In most ways, I would prefer to live alone. I like having privacy and space. I opted to trade my privacy and space for regular meals I don’t have to cook. But those aren’t happening, and yeah, it sucks.

The Dandy and Dandette didn’t end up going out for dinner but they did go get groceries and Dandette said I could use her room for alone-time for a while. So that’s where I am now – sitting on her bed angry-typing. They got home a few minutes ago. I’d like to go back to my own room again but The Dandy is there and I don’t know how to not be angry at him right  now. If he were to apologize, I’d probably melt immediately and be okay. But he’s not much of an apologizer. And then I wonder if I should apologize – I did lose my temper pretty  hard, after all – but I only lost it after months of feeling like nobody here goddamned listens to me, so maybe he needed to get yelled at. I’ve been saying forever now that I need to feel kept in the loop about things – including household stuff like whether there will be food around or when people are getting home.

It’s somewhat mollifying that both of them got the fuck out when I told them I needed to be alone, and that they hurried up and did the thing I was pissed off at them not doing. And here again I feel like I was acting like a prima donna, kicking people out of their own home or whatever, but then again The Dandy and I have also done this for Dandette. And I really, really am not someone anybody wants to be around today.

In other news, maybe two months ago I booked a model gig that’s in the back of beyond. The gig is tomorrow. During the two months leading up to it I have asked The Dandy at least four times if he would mind very much driving me to the thing (and I’d get home on my own) in order to shave like an hour off my commute. I probably shouldn’t have even taken this job since it’s so bloody far away, but I did and I’m too chicken to cancel so it’s just a thing I need to deal with and then I won’t take any more work from the place. Anyway, every time I asked The Dandy if he would drive me, he said “maybe.” Including when I asked yesterday, and that’s driving me mad. Like either say yes and put it on your calendar as an official thing you’re doing, or tell me no. I bet you anything if I asked him right now, even, he still would say “maybe.” Like he’d expect me to wake up tomorrow early enough to commute by transit and then check with him then about driving me and he’d see if he felt like it. THAT DOESN’T HELP ME. The point of getting a drive was to be able to sleep longer.

One more thing before I go: I also don’t feel listened to with regards to sleep. I have told both of them that my entire life is a struggle to get enough sleep. I have said in no uncertain terms that it’s hard for me to get to sleep and that I am the lightest sleeper ever. And yet these stupid fuckers consistently have conversations right outside the bedroom at normal volume after I’ve gone to bed, or even yell across the apartment to each other. Or else they come into the bedroom to get stuff while I’m trying to sleep and don’t particularly try to be quiet about it. On numerous occasions I’ve been lying down in the bedroom during the early evening, trying to nap, and The Dandy is quietly internetting (which is fine) and Dandette comes in for whatever reason and they end up having a little conversation about how I’m asleep. NO I’M NOT. I’m just lying here with my eyes closed. That’s always what I’m doing when I appear to be asleep. Shut up and fuck off.

And like I know it’s often daytime when that happens, so maybe it’s unfair to expect people to tiptoe around, but given that I have expressly said that I never goddamned sleep well and I need to nap whenever the opportunity presents itself or else I will go absolutely batshit crazy, it seems like there are extenuating circumstances here. Plus, I mean, I’m in my bed, not the common areas of the apartment – I’d never expect to fall asleep on the couch and have anyone tiptoe. But one would hope that if I’m in bed trying to sleep, regardless what time of day, Dandette would walk in, see me lying in bed with my eyes shut, and not have a conversation right next to me. Or that The Dandy would point out that I was trying to sleep, and quietly leave the room to talk to Dandette in the living room.

And I keep telling myself that having my own room will make everything better, but will it? Or will Dandette just come busting into my room, chattering away while fetching something she wants to borrow?

Do these fuckers have any sense of boundaries at all?


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Some nicer sex stories

I’m in the habit of sardonically asking “are you flirting with me?” any time The Dandy bends to pick something up with his ass facing me, and at some other times when he’s accidentally doing something that might in theory turn me on.

We were having sex one time with me on top (I’m under the impression he used to like missionary position the best, but somehow I’ve got him preferring cowgirl position, which is a mixed blessing given how easily my thighs get tired but whatevs) and he flung his hands up by his head.. I’ve never, ever known a guy to do that without it being a hint that he wants to be pinned down. The Dandy identifies as dominant and has never expressed being into bottoming for restraints or rough play or anything like that, so I ignored his hands and kept on fucking him. But he kept them up there and it just seems like such a weird, unnatural position – not something a person would ever do by coincidence. He’s sometimes linked his hands together behind his head while we fuck, but never just had them loosely up next to his head like that. So finally I grinned and said “Are you flirting with me?” and grabbed/pinned his wrists. He let me do this (maybe he was tolerating it or maybe he liked it; I don’t know. His reactions are really subtle) until a few minutes later when he said it was too much weight on him so I stopped. It was a nice moment, though.

On another occasion I was riding him and he had a really, really good orgasm; climaxes of that calibre are not an every day thing for him so it’s a real treat to watch. Much more loud and sustained heavy breathing than usual, plus something about his face looks like he’s in free-fall – giddy and laughing and falling blissfully through the sky. Like literally he smiles and giggles during the orgasm. And he’s like The Pedant in that if I stop thrusting for a few seconds but then resume, it gives him a surprise extra continuation of the orgasm; he thinks it’s all done but then the second wave hits him. Super fun!

So he had one of those orgasms while I basically propped myself up on my arms and thrust slowly through to the end and just watched his face in awe, and I was in that vulnerable post-sex state where I’m a lot less guarded than usual, so after I rolled off him I said something like “Ohhh that moment where you go over the edge and just kind of free-float…your face is so fucking beautiful that I want to come over and over again until my body is completely destroyed.”

The Dandy turned his head away from me then, but I caught enough of a glimpse of his face to see that he was not turning away in disgust; he was hiding because my compliment had completely overwhelmed him and he didn’t know how to handle it.

And finally: last night The Dandy took a bath and for whatever reason I was feeling extra affectionate and attracted so I came in and asked if he needed help washing any hard-to-reach places. I really did come in there with the intent of washing him, if he wanted, as he’s washed my back and legs in the past. But when he grinned and said “Well, there is a place that could use some attention. It’s not hard for me to reach per se, buttttttt…?” that was fine, too.

So I soaped up my hand and stroked his cock with it and in very little time he had an orgasm – not quite one of his free-floating, giggling ones, but pretty close – kind of out of the blue. You have to understand that I’m very good at picking up subtle cues but he’s got almost nothing. When we’re lying in bed, I try to sense his impending orgasm by surreptitiously checking to see if he’s straightening his legs and pointing his toes, but the bathtub is too little for him to stretch out in so he couldn’t do that. So to me, one second I was flogging away at a totally passive Dandy, thinking “is he even enjoying this? Should I stop?” and the next second he’d launched over the edge and was doing that flurry of orgasm-breathing. Eventually the spasms died down and he opened his eyes and we both realized that I was staring fixedly at his face and we both got a bit embarrassed and glanced away. But gosh, he’s beautiful when he comes.




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But here’s a good thing.

On the Night of the Terrible Things I was really not wanting to live here anymore. As usual I suppose I projected that feeling onto The Dandy and started feeling insecure about whether he wanted me here. And, I mean, arguably my presence in his life does stir up a bunch of shit with Dandette and his life would be simpler with me gone.

I asked him if he wanted me to keep living here. He said “yes, but if you want to live elsewhere I’d understand.” That was comforting for about two minutes but then it began to strike me as kind of…like, if he didn’t want me here but didn’t want to offend me by saying so, wouldn’t that be just exactly the right thing to say? To make it clear that I could leave and he wouldn’t be mad?

If I could just magically be living somewhere else (or if Dandette could) I’d wave that magic wand right now, no question. I mean, provided the new bachelor pad was secure and pest-free and reasonably soundproof and all that. But realistically, I can’t afford to live on my own and would have tremendous trouble qualifying for an apartment with my weird unstable freelance job. So I need to make this work. And I do love The Dandy. I might even still love Dandette, though she’s damaged my trust pretty hard so my feelings are kind of up in the air there. When things are good here, they are very good. So I want to work things out, too.

So I asked The Dandy “If I wanted to stay, but only on condition that we get therapy – all of us, together and probably separately as well – would you be willing to do that? Understanding that I can’t really afford to chip in so you’d have to foot the bill.”

The Dandy thought about it and said yes, if he can afford it.* That’s pretty huge, for him. A few months ago he dodged around all over the place to avoid the idea of getting therapy because he felt that seeing a therapist means you’re failing at life.

I’m not going to press for anything yet (mostly because I’m not up to the task of vetting a therapist for us right now and I know The Dandy won’t ever do that on his own; I’ll have to present him with options or – most likely – just make an appointment and tell him to show up, or else therapy simply won’t happen). But it’s good to know it could happen.


*The temptation to snap “Oh for fuck’s sake just do without new shoes for a while” was strong, but I resisted. Seriously, though, dude makes almost six figures and in the five-ish months that I’ve been living here he’s bought a sword ($1600), a dagger (can’t remember how much; a few hundred bucks, at least), and at least three pairs of shoes, one of them a custom pair for almost a thousand dollars (I think the rest were over $500 but I could be wrong). Oh and he bought a fancy fountain pen off someone for like a hundred bucks. And he never brings a lunch to work – he buys lunch in restaurants every single day. And orders us dinner once every week or two. Every time he whines about not being able to afford something (always a thing that would benefit our household, our relationship, or Dandette’s physical or mental health, btw, never another pair of shoes – he always somehow finds money for shoes) I want to slap him.

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This is why we can’t have nice things.

The sad and annoying thing is that I did, at one point, tentatively want to have a…somewhat ambiguously sexual relationship with Dandette. I didn’t want to make out or do stuff to her vulva or anything but I like giving impact play and other sadistic things and she likes receiving; I think it turns her on, so technically it’s sexual to her. It may be sexual to me, too, I’m still working that out.

I’ve even daydreamed about The Dandy fucking her and getting her off while I kinda supplemented the experience from the sidelines via bites/slaps/hair-pulling, or The Dandy fucking me and getting me off while Dandette petted me – not with the underlying idea of she and I being sexual together, more like feeling so deeply platonically affectionate that we’re willing to be the prop that allows the other one to have a better fuck with someone else. I’ve daydreamed about being un-self-conscious enough that The Dandy and I could fuck with the door open and it wouldn’t matter if Dandette passed by and saw us. I’ve daydreamed about us being perfectly comfortable naked around each other, in a neutral/utilitarian way, so that if The Dandy and I were curled up falling asleep naked and Dandette wanted to sleep on the other side of him and be naked, too, that would be fine. And we’d wake up in the morning and smile at each other and maybe give each others’ arms an affectionate squeeze or something but the nudity wouldn’t be a sex thing at all.

I probably would have enjoyed all of this…but then Dandette started making excuses to show me her tits. Then Dandette started constantly “joking” that she’d be a better match for me than The Dandy and why am I not bi, dammit?! Then Dandette started giving me significant looks and telling me that unlike The Dandy, she’ll go down on a woman. And now, the last straw, she’s partially disrobed me without my consent and showed me her genitals to “make us even” for the disrobing I didn’t want. And just…nope nope fucking NOPE.

This has happened to me with a lot of people, of all genders: I feel a stirring of some kind of ambiguous interest in being close to them, and then they have a surge of pushiness snuffs that interest out instantly. I don’t know why people think that coming on too strong will make me want to do stuff with them. My interest in someone needs space to grow into whatever it might become. Take away my space and I’ll feel pressured and squashed and pretty much just hate you.

So now I want to back way off and just be roommates with Dandette. I don’t mind hugs but that’s about it. Anything beyond that, I’ll ignore/deflect/shut down. Fuck it.

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The weirdest trauma

The fact that The Dandy and I had sex at Dandette’s request when neither of us wanted to, and she’d told us to fuck under false pretenses, makes me feel really violated and betrayed and I don’t really know what to do with these feelings.

I mean, I told Dandette that night that I don’t pick up on situations where someone only asks a thing to be polite and I’m supposed to refuse, so she needs to be clear. And she said she wasn’t mad at me for having sex with The Dandy. I’m not sure I believe that, but it’s nice lip service, I guess.

There’s still the matter of her being tricksy and manipulative to a terrifying degree, though. So…yeah.


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