A week or two ago, completely out of the blue, The Bunny texted me a photo of his naked ass. He said it was because he’d been trying to text a pic to someone and it wasn’t working so he was just kinda testing his phone. I joked that maybe his phone decided that the other person wasn’t ready to handle the gloriousness of DAT ASS. He said that wasn’t the thing he was trying to send the other person. Apparently I was the only recipient of his ass that day (his ass which is amazing and which he knows I always loved almost to the point of fetishism…).

I was talking about this with Mine, saying I didn’t understand if this was flirting or what. Mine was like “Well, he could have texted anything to anyone and he chose to send that to you.” That’s a good point.

The Bunny hung out with me recently in person at a craft fair I was doing. I bitched to him about my problems finding pants that fit and he agreed that clothing manufacturers are stupid but added “In fairness, your hips are…impossible.” His tone was complimentary.

He’s also been telling me a lot lately about his misadventures in dating. It hasn’t been going well for him; women are rejecting him for being too short, or a switch, or any number of other things (things that I obviously had no issue with), or else he goes on an actual date with someone and she’s weird and hard to read. If The Bunny has renewed interest in me right now, I suspect it’s because he misses how straightfoward I was with him, and how blatantly attracted; he doesn’t want me, he wants ego-stroking and uncomplicated sex. I also suspect he’ll only hint at being interested rather than actually telling me, and just kinda hope that I’ll initiate something (after having shot me down for sex and play about a thousand times when we were going out, to a point where I was too shell-shocked to ever want to initiate anything again…). I probably won’t be following up on his little signals, but the prospect of him being interested in me (again) is vaguely flattering nonetheless.

Mine and I hung out recently and it was fun. The possibility for love seems to have vanished and we’re just kinda FWB now, which makes me sad, but I think I can mourn that for a while and then have a nice casual relationship with him. We played when he was here; I bit his chest at one point and then, later on, put my fist against the spot I bit and stared him down while just…leaning my weight on that fist. His breath quickened and he met my gaze with something like terror in his eyes (not super-huge terror because he knows I’ll always stop what I’m doing the minute he asks, but still; I have a lot of leeway with him. He would have to be wondering what I would do to him next…). The energy crackled between us. So hot.

Last night I saw Minx for the first time in ages. We watched the newest incarnation of The Muppet Show and she ended up petting me to sleep; I pulled my clothes down/up to give her access to more of my skin. She even caressed the lower curve of my breasts and some of my ass. It felt lovely, and not exactly sexual. Maybe kind of on the edge. I feel alright about her touching me that way, knowing that things wouldn’t progress any further than that and I could just enjoy feeling good. But when she wants to be petted in return it feels kind of icky to me; it seems like it’s quasi-sexual to her, too, and her sexuality squicks me. She’ll moan and squirm and I feel queasy. I know it’s hypocritical or selfish or whatever but oh well.

So far, though, Minx has seemed okay with giving a lot more than she gets, and last night was no exception. If she ever starts insisting on a more equal balance of pettings I guess I’ll have to distance myself a bit. But I think to a large extent she considers touching me its own reward and getting touched back is just an afterthought.

The Pedant and I talked on the phone today. I finally got up the nerve to ask him if he’d actually read the plea for disability benefits that I had him print out for me, or if he merely printed it. That document lays out all the worst parts of my mental issues in the most brutally harsh fashion you can imagine. The Pedant can’t help but know some of it because he’s just that close to me, but I have tried to hide the full extent to which my anxiety and depression fuck me up. And there are other things I never hid per se but just never told him outright because there was no reason to.

He did read it. He’s officially seen the absolute worst of me, and he hasn’t freaked out or run away. He’s still been texting and calling me just like normal. I’m so relieved. Earlier in our relationship, if we had a disagreement and I addressed it with a calm discussion, he would gush to me about how I’m “not crazy and irrational like most women” and it made me deeply uneasy. My anxiety does make me irrational, sometimes. I’ve gotten pretty good at handling it but shit still happens sometimes and I dreaded The Pedant dismissing me as just another “psycho chick” after all.

But he knows it all, now, and he’s still here.

Tangent: I was talking to him about life modelling and how it’s a bit more stressful when my “audience” is in a circle all the way around me instead of just halfway. The Pedant asked why and I said that when there’s a wall behind me I can kind of control what people see. If I don’t want them to look at my ass, for instance, I can just make sure it’s pointed at the wall. If there are people all the way around me, someone’s gonna see my ass no matter what. Or if a pose is really unflattering at one particular angle, someone’s gonna inevitably get that angle.

The Pedant said “Maybe I’m biased, but I can’t imagine that there’s an unflattering angle on you.” Cheesy as hell and almost certainly a lie, but it made me grin, anyway.

“See, this is why I’m keeping you,” I said.

“Because I tell the truth?” (Y U SO ADORABLE, PEDANT?!)

“…Yeah. That must be it.”



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