Sometime in the last bunch of days I was spelling out for The Dandy just how much thought I’ve been putting into trying to make sure Dandette is comfortable and feels like a part of things. Like I’ll go out of my way to hang out in the living room with her sometimes, even though I’d been perfectly content reading on the bed while The Dandy was on the internet (on his computer which is also in the bedroom). I’ll make sure I don’t always sit next to The Dandy on the couch. I just generally am careful to make sure The Dandy and I aren’t joined at the hip and seeming like a unit in such a way that Dandette might feel hurt or “extra.”
“…After all, you’re ours, not just mine,” I concluded.
“So, I’m not mine?”
“No. There’s no time to belong to yourself. You have two girlfriends.”
And yesterday The Dandy kept me company on a run to the bank and was standing on the other side of the cordon while I was in line. I reached out to touch him affectionately and he playfully backed off a few steps to make it difficult. “No, I’m the girlfriend with the long arms. You’re thinking of the other one,” I said, easily putting my hand on him anyway.