Oh, anxiety, you fickle bitch. I keep waffling back and forth on The Bunny: he loves me, he loves me not. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like he tries too terribly hard to see me…it feels like he talks all the damn time about how his dating life sucks and it’s hard to meet people, which kinda makes me feel like chopped liver…he’s not great at giving compliments, or even at showing he values my compliments toward him.
But today he came over and helped me clean my apartment, absolutely selflessly.
The visit got off to a less than stellar start, as I’d asked him to come over for 11am and he didn’t even leave the house until 11:20. I’d gone to bed stupid late last night because reasons, but didn’t want to alter my Bunny plans; I set my alarm for 10:30 so I’d be fed and hopefully somewhat awake when he arrived. But 11am came and went with no word from him at all. Only when I said “are you on your way?” did he eventually text back that he was – and I suspect he was actually still getting dressed and stuff because he didn’t get to my place until 12:30 and he’s not that far away. If I’d known he wouldn’t get here until that late I would have slept another two hours, dammit!
Anyway. Turns out The Bunny’s apartment had no hot water this morning. I offered him my shower, and while he was in there I puttered around in the kitchen sort of “pre-cleaning” so The Bunny wouldn’t get too grossed out by the state of things.
After a while, a movement in my peripheral vision made me look up. The Bunny was standing in the kitchen doorway…naked. Let me be clear: The Bunny is not a casually naked person. We actually talked about this just the other day; he said he’ll normally wear at least boxers even when he’s at home alone, and my thing of getting naked the second I get in his door, or asking him to strip down the second he gets in mine, is a first for him. So I believe either his nudity was intended as a gift for me (and I was thrilled to have it!) or he’s becoming even more confident in his newfound powers of physical sexiness and wanted to revel in my admiration. Quite possibly a bit of both.
When I saw him standing there all wet and clean and naked, I burst into a grin and said “Hey, you’re wearing my favourite outfit!” and I came over to kiss him and run my hands over all the pretty. The Bunny was all business, though: he came to clean and dammit, that’s what he was gonna do. He kissed me back in a very finite sort of way and then asked me what I needed him to do. I put him on dish duty and set about attacking the other kinds of clutter.
Curiously, The Bunny wasn’t nearly as thorough this time as he was the last time he cleaned. He didn’t wipe down the stove or counter, for instance, or even do all of the actual dishes; there was a stack next to the sink and a stack on the other counter and he only did what was next to the sink. Makes me wonder if this was some kind of passive-aggressive protest over me having let his previous cleaning job go so far downhill. I didn’t say anything about it. As much as The Bunny referred to himself as providing “cleaning service” I think he was being kind of facetious; I believe he was providing partner-help rather than service submission, and as such I didn’t feel comfortable bossing him around or being nit-picky.
After kinda-sorta doing the dishes, The Bunny swept the kitchen floor (which was now visible, thanks to my de-cluttering efforts) and then – without me having directed him to – started tidying my foyer. I’d been hoping to focus both our efforts on the kitchen*, but again, didn’t want to be all bossypants. And it is a tremendous relief to have a clean front hall again. The Bunny marvelled at the dropped clothes in the area, pantomiming how I must come in the door and just fling off everything I’m wearing higgledy-piggledy. I said that’s pretty much accurate.
In the end, instead of having an immaculate kitchen as I’d planned, I got a kitchen, hallway, and living room that are still messy but noticeably better than before. In some ways, this was preferable; I can walk from room to room without tripping/sliding on stuff anymore. And The Bunny’s help kinda got me over the hump – I think I’m good to keep going with the cleaning by myself, now. 🙂
The Bunny had to leave at 3:30pm to meet with his potential rope top; we wound up our clean-a-thon around 3pm and hung out on the couch together. I asked The Bunny if he’d be up for a quickie and he laughed and said “Half an hour is not enough time for a quickie, for me.” Fair enough. 😀 I idly played with his penis, anyway, while we talked; this gave him an erection, which made me damn near swoon with relief. His libido’s been wonky for what feels like forever now – I’m in that stage of sexual drought where the very concepts of erections and intercourse start sounding bizarre and highly suspect (a penis expands when you rub it? And gets harder? And then he might put it where?!? …I dunno, man…that sounds like bullshit to me…). I even knelt between The Bunny’s legs and took a little taste.
We got to talking about his impending meeting with the rope top. I told him that I still want to tie him up, too, but given how basic my skills are I think this is best practiced on one of our beds; no need to shell out money to go to a practice session in a dungeon just yet. If I get to the point where I’m ready to try suspending him so I can punch him like a heavybag (as per an idea he had ages ago), then we can go to a dungeon event. He said the rope top seems pretty keen on doing suspensions, and I was like “Maybe she could tie you up and then I could step in and give you the beat down. Unless that would be an intrusion for her.” The Bunny said he doesn’t think she wants to do anything to him but practice tying him up, so that sort of tag-teaming might actually be a possibility.
Then I started riffing on what-all I’d do to him if he were suspended. I spontaneously invented a game called “piñata” that involved me filling him with candy, suspending him, and then beating him with a pipe. You win a game of “piñata” if you can get the piñata so scared that the candy all comes flying out of him.
“…Ummmm where exactly are you putting this candy?” The Bunny asked.
“There’s only really one option, isn’t there? I mean in order for it to come out when you’re scared…”
“…That’s unsanitary! And probably not good for me!”
“I’ll put it in a baggie before I shove it in. Don’t be such a wuss – heroin smugglers have been successfully doing this for years!”
Etc., etc. I love bouncing whackadoo, disgusting ideas off The Bunny and making him roll his eyes/cringe/say “Noooo!”
The Bunny told me that he’s free pretty much all next week if I wanna get together sometime (hooray! For a while there it felt like he was constantly evasive about his schedule, much like The Pedant). I told him Tuesday probably works for me, and I liked the idea of getting together and not-cleaning, wink wink.
When I walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye he even confirmed again “So, Tuesday you’re free?” which made me feel even more secure. He wants to see me; he’s paying attention; he’s wanting to confirm things. Woot.
Oh, and I have another anecdote from a different day. I’d been noticing that The Bunny wasn’t usually texting me in the mornings. Once upon a time I’d wake up almost every day to find a text from him; just random chitchat or whatever, but the point was, The Bunny seemed eager to talk to me the moment he woke up. And nowadays, he doesn’t. And that sucks. So last week, I think (probably soon after one of his tradmark rants about how chicks don’t seem to like him and he can’t find any dates and blah blah blah), I called him out on his lack of morning texts and asked if he was starting to take me for granted. He said no, he just hasn’t been sleeping well and wakes up exhausted. But the very next morning he sent me a text right when his alarm went off, and he’s generally been starting his daily volley of texts earlier since then. It bodes well that he pays attention to what I want and makes an effort.
I’m gonna keep on trying to assert myself instead of swallowing my exasperation all the time. When he whines about not having luck with women, I’ll call him out on that a bit more often. And the next time I sext him or give him a compliment and he does his sarcastic deflection thing, I plan to say something like “Look, if you’re not into this sort of talk, that’s cool – just tell me and I won’t bother anymore. But if you actually like me saying these things to you, you’re gonna have to learn to express your appreciation instead of making snide remarks. Otherwise I won’t be motivated to keep on sharing my thoughts.” He managed to tell me once (ONCE) that it’s good to hear me say laudatory things about him because nobody else has really ever really noticed his good qualities – and, again, he frequently complains about women he’s interested in not being interested back. He’s not exactly rolling in offers of pussy and apparently I’m the only woman who ever talked about finding him strong/hot/sexy/manly/etc., so I suspect the above speech would make him smarten right the fuck up.
I do think he’s begun taking me for granted at least a little bit. And although it seems counterintuitive, I think maybe my efforts to be low-maintenance and keep my occasional upsets to myself have added to this: like instead of thinking “God, this relationship is going so smoothly – Cowgirl is awesome” he’s thinking “Huh, it seems like I can do whatever I want and this girl just keeps on adoring me.” The threat of losing me might actually make him appreciate me more.
And by “the threat of losing me” I don’t mean that I plan to actually threaten to dump him. I do mean that some of his behaviours piss me off, and if I make this known to The Bunny, he will probably extrapolate (correctly) that continuing to do those things may drive me away. And this in turn will hopefully cause him to picture what life would be like without me and come to the conclusion that it would kinda suck. And then he’ll up his game to make sure I stick around.
I can’t help noticing that The Bunny and I have been seeing each other for about eight months and his stuffiness and lack of communication are wearing on me to the point where I feel I’m about to break. That’s exactly how long it took with The Pedant, too – he was fine in small doses as my side-boy to Minx, but he was only my main boy for about eight months before things imploded. And the implosion was due to overall stuffiness and a lack of communication.
I don’t love that history is repeating itself, but maybe I can change the course of things by throwing caution to the wind and just bitching about shit when I need to instead of always trying to work through it on my own. If The Bunny ends up feeling like I’m too “high maintenance” and dumps me, well, we weren’t compatible anyway. And learning to draw boundaries will bring me that much closer to meeting someone I can have a successful relationship with.
*My living room, bedroom, and bathroom are pretty much packed to the gills just with the normal furniture and accoutrements you’d expect in those areas. My kitchen is the only room that has any extra space in it – or would, if I didn’t have so much of my crap stashed in there. So my plan was to throw out/put away/disperse said crap so that I’d have like four square feet of totally clear space…into which I could put the extraneous crap from other rooms. I wanted to, like, take everything out of the living room besides furniture and lamps and stash it in the kitchen while I mopped and swept the floor; then I’d put back whatever flotsam actually belonged in there and deal the rest in whatever way was necessary. And after that I’d do the same with the bedroom.