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Minx has been in therapy for a while, and when we hung out last night she said that at her last appointment her therapist managed to narrow in on some triggery phrases that made her cry immediately (it’s unclear whether the intent was to make her cry, or what). Minx said that even as she burst into tears, she was also feeling a bit turned on by the therapist being able to undo her so effortlessly. It gave her a bit of a submissive or bottomy thrill.

Oddly, my own therapist seems to bring out something toppy in me (or maybe my toppy feelings for my new boy are just slopping over onto everyone around me…). He’s my one-on-one session guy but he also convenes some of the group therapy sessions I’m in. The other day he was teaching the group of us a script for being more assertive. It’s this big long spiel that encompasses saying we have an issue, acknowledging the other person’s feelings on the issue, and then asking for some kind of favour or compromise that allows us to get what we need. I’m okay at being assertive when I need to be but I dislike that script, mostly because it seems way too elaborate and flowery and because to be honest I often don’t know someone’s feelings about a particular topic so I can’t do the step where I empathize with them. I think it would come off as presumptuous to just guess.

I told this to the therapist/convenor, and said that my usual thing is to just go “Soooo I’ve noticed that you do this thing…” and just wait. Usually the silence will become so awkward that the other person feels a need to fill it and will talk about what’s up with them. Then I can empathize and tack on a “but here’s what I need, so can we find a midground?”

He said “Ah, but with someone like me who is comfortable with silence, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

God only knows why this was my immediate reaction but I said “Challenge accepted” and I leaned back in my chair, crossed my arms, and looked at him, deadpan. He raised an eyebrow and looked back at me. Both of us were silent. I could feel the others in the room watching our standoff. They tittered nervously at the weird energy between us.

After a few seconds he said something like “Awww, not even a smile?” and dammit, my deadpan facade broke and I laughed in spite of myself. The other group members laughed, too, probably in relief that the tension was broken. The therapist looked triumphant.

I caught his eye and pointedly, quietly, said:”You spoke first.”

A few scandalized little “Oooooooh!”s from the crowd and then the therapist started a new topic and life went on.

It was an oddly titillating moment for me, though, despite me not being attracted to him at all.

I completely understand why therapists/psychiatrists/etc are forbidden from fucking their patients (or wait is it illegal or just unethical?): there is an intimacy there, at least in one direction. And a massive power imbalance, because the intimacy only goes in one direction. This dude I’ve been assigned to is really perceptive and the moment I got to our one-on-one session he noticed and/or intuited a whole bunch of shit about me that few, if any, people have ever remarked upon. It does feel like caring when someone notices your little details. It feels personal. I’m well aware that this is his job and he probably does these little feats of intimate magic with everyone he talks to, but oh boy, if I were doing this program twenty years ago when I was less stable and so entirely desperate for love…

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This boy. <3

I’m smitten enough with the new boy that it’s making me hyper-paranoid whenever there’s a longer-than-average gap in our text conversations. We seem to be sliding toward having feelings for each other pretty quickly, but those potential feelings are based solely on what we know of each other so far – which, in the grand scheme of things, isn’t all that much. So it feels like any new revelation from either side has the potential to destroy everything, like that time on Seinfeld when Elaine was really into a guy but then it came up that he’s pro-life.

We’d been doing a lot of sexy flirting/innuendo stuff lately and I was starting to worry that we were overfocusing on that side of things – I’ve had it happen before where I met a guy I liked and felt had partner potential, but somehow once regular talk segued into sex talk we were never able to go back again and dude became a fuckbuddy at best. But last night we fell into a long text conversation about what we think happens to people’s souls after they die, and whether either of us would live forever if we could, and what we want to have accomplished in life by the time we die. We were on the same page with all of it, btw, which is nice. I’m sure couples exist where one believes in heaven/hell and the other believes in *poof*, but I bet with some people that creates arguments.

He and I both tentatively think that the last moment of a person’s life may feel like eternity, the way a two-minute dream can seem to take place across months, so that would be an “afterlife” of sorts even if death is actually lights-out and there’s no tangible thing that happens after. So therefore it’s important to both of us that we die feeling happy and knowing we made others happy. We shared our respective lists of things we wanted to have going on at death in order to die fulfilled. A deep romantic relationship was on both of our lists.

Then (consciously taking a bit of a chance, because if we’re mismatched in this way it would not bode well), I said:

Relationships are important to me. I prioritize love more highly than a lot of other people do, it seems (I’m not being smug here, just confused. I don’t see prioritizing love as more moral or anything).

But like…I have friends who’ve broken up with people they loved in order to take a road trip or accept a job elsewhere. And maybe they just weren’t IN love? But I thought they were. And I can’t imagine leaving a really good, in-love relationship for things like that.

Then again, it’s pretty rare that I connect with someone deeply. Other people might find that easily any old place. That probably makes a big difference.

But yeah. Being in one or more fulfilling romantic relationships is a big piece of my “dying happy” plan. Plus good friends and a career I like and all of that, obviously.

Now, bear in mind that we’d been talking up a storm up to this point. Great flurries of text messages flying back and forth rapid-fire. But after I said this? Crickets. For the next couple of hours I tried to distract myself but couldn’t help checking my phone every five seconds, and still nothing. Then Minx called wanting to hang out (it was 1am but she recently moved to a place right up the street from me and we’re both nocturnal so…) and so we took a very nice nighttime walk and then sat on a bench in a park for a couple of hours, talking.

Once I got home again, I suddenly remembered my angst about the boy again, and checked my phone. This was waiting:

I’m with you on prioritizing love. That’s what gives me the courage to put myself out there for dating. Otherwise I’d be a hermit workbot and give up sex altogether. I like sex, obviously, but I want the whole package. I do not understand the people who break up with others for distance reasons. I did my LDR for years and even though I ultimately determined I wasn’t in love with her, I was convinced during that period that I was. I feel deeply for her as a friend and it was worth it to know. If the love is real, how could it not be worth it? I would figure it out, personally.

So I don’t recall asking, but given everything you said here, is your current boy not the one for all of this? [Meaning my die-happy plan of being in a relationship] Or perhaps I’m missing the obvious in discounting your “foregoing” of your kinkterests, at least with him, for something more vanilla? I’m asking because some of your language frames it as a sort of dream you have for someday.

I do not fall for people easily. I do like to jump in kind of head first, but that’s because (1) I don’t have time to fuck around and take things slowly, [This is amusing to hear from a 29 yo but whatever] (2) I want to get to the real intimacy sooner, and (3) I fucking hate all the stupid dancing around their true selves people do at the beginning of relationships. Fucking go! See if you are compatible for real. The sooner you know you’re not, the sooner you can get back to the search. Of deep connections, I’ll say I’ve had…Two. Obviously neither stuck. Unrequited love is a rough game for both parties in my experience. But I would give up pretty much everything (again) if I thought it was real.

I’m totally rambling now. Fell asleep, then woke up to your messages and didn’t want to let them go unanswered. Looking forward to Sunday.

I kind of wonder if he didn’t want to let my messages go unanswered because he knew I had put myself out there and might perceive silence as rejection. I get a vibe that he, like me, is excited and anxious and trying to cover it up so he doesn’t seem too needy. I believe a lot of the things he’s been telling me about himself are also putting-himself-out-there things and he knows how he’d feel if I were suddenly silent.

The boy’s comment about The Dandy gave me a good opening to mention that he and I are probably about to break up, so that’s cool, too. I didn’t want to tell him outta nowhere because that might seem like it’s a competition and I’m letting the boy know that he won (he’s never been poly before, and even open-minded monos generally see multiple relationships as being in opposition to each other because that’s how we’re all socialized). And yet my relationship status is kinda relevant to his life, so I wanted him to know.

He has not responded to my message about The Dandy and I being on the verge of breakup. That’s fine. This is new territory for him.

We see each other again tomorrow and I plan to break his one-month orgasm fast. ūüėÄ

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So I forget if I mentioned this but I got accepted into another group therapy thing. It’s Monday-Thursday, two hours in the afternoon, for four weeks. It annoys the shit out of me that my local mental hospital seems to assume that nobody coming in for these programs has a JOB, but whatevs. I don’t have a lot of gigs at this time of year so I can make it work.

This program comes with a weekly one-on-one therapy session. My first one was today. It went differently than I expected but still made me cry pretty much like I assumed it would.

What I expected was that we’d do more cognitive behavioural therapy stuff. The therapist had told me ahead of time to write down ten things that cause me anxiety, from least scary to most, and bring it to our session. I figured at the session we’d talk about the first thing or two on the list and he would give me homework meant to help me get past my anxiety about them. Pretty sure that’s what he was planning on happening, too.

Instead, pretty soon into the session, he asked out of the blue “Do you brush your teeth?” That…was a seemingly random but weirdly astute question. No; no, I do not. He asked me to describe my thought processes around that and I couldn’t really explain why I don’t. It used to be because my physical health was so bad that I couldn’t comfortably stand up for that long, but that’s not the case anymore. And pretty much every day I think about brushing my teeth and how if I don’t I’ll probably rack up a huge dental bill and ruin the expensive crowns I paid for a few years back, and I freak myself out, and yet…

Dude asked if perhaps I don’t feel worthy of self-care. And…I…lost it.

He’s right. I’d buried it so deep that I didn’t even know until he said it, but yeah, I feel like taking any time at all to take care of myself is…wasteful or selfish or something. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do things that feel good to me in an instant gratification sort of way. I’ll eat a whole container of ice cream; I’ll give myself orgasms. I tell myself, fuck it, what’s life without enjoyment? I’m the one in this body so I might as well have a little fun sometimes, right?

And I’ll do the practical things necessary to keep myself going – make sure I eat my veggies (because I need to pay my rent so I’m not homeless, which means I need to properly fuel myself so I can do my job well), do my laundry (because if my clothes smell like armpit, people will detect it and everyone will think of me as unhygienic and possibly fucked in the head and this will affect my interactions with people in a negative way). But I can’t seem to make myself do things just so I’ll feel better. Even with seeking therapy, yeah I did that because I want to feel better, but I find myself frequently justifying it to myself with thoughts like “I need to fix my brain so I’m capable of doing other kinds of work in case modelling falls out from under me somehow.” Just feeling better isn’t reason enough.

I think this feeling of not being worth self-care may be a big reason why I never did my therapy homework the last time around, and a big reason why I’ve been maybe 30lbs overweight for a couple of years (I can be this weight and it doesn’t interfere with my livelihood or whether I can get laid. Maybe it’s unhealthy (or maybe not, I dunno) and I have no clothes that fit and I wish I were thinner, but JUNK FOOD IS DELICIOUS). Even with cleaning the apartment I have to justify it (I’ll be able to find my shit more easily, which will help me not be late for work. If the landlords need to come in all of a sudden, I won’t look like some kind of sloppy monster).

And I’m pretty sure I never used to be quite this bad. I used to like shopping for warm clothes when the weather got colder. I used to (I think?) take naps sometimes just because I was sleepy, and I didn’t have to guilt myself into it by telling myself all the ways that being sleep deprived might fuck up my life. I don’t understand why I’m like this, now. The thought of spending ten minutes just doing something that’s good for me feels like a total waste of time; it makes me feel guilty. I thought I had decent self-esteem. Is it possible to have decent self-esteem and yet not feel like you deserve to be healthy?

The therapist said that doing cognitive behavioural therapy on me right now wouldn’t be all that productive, given that I have such a hard time believing it’s okay to take care of myself. Holy shit…that’s so fucking obvious but I just never even thought of it.

So my homework for the week is to look at myself in the mirror every morning and say hi (the therapist sees that I spend a lot of my time putting up a front that I’m doing fine, and feels it would be beneficial for me to see myself without my “mask” on), brush my teeth, and then sit quietly for ten minutes and focus on my breathing (he noticed that I breathe really shallowly and he knows that if I force myself to breathe more deeply it’ll help with my anxiety). I feel like the saying hi to the mirror is not too huge a deal, but the rest of it made my chest seize up so I could barely even breathe.

This oughta be…interesting.

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So, the new boy….

On our second date we went to dinner. On the bus to the restaurant he was like “Okay so this is awkward but…” and told me that he really missed me writing to him. In the week or so leading up to our first date we’d been messaging on Fetlife like mad, and then after that first date I wrote a brief follow-up about some things we’d talked about, and later wrote to him asking for that second date, but that’s it. He said he’d really like more contact from me.

I’ve struggled with the exact same feelings in many relationships and it’s terrifying as hell for me to say so – I mean if they’re not contacting me much then presumably it’s because they don’t feel like talking to me, right? So won’t I just end up looking clingy and demanding? And in fact with this boy I’d been having a similar struggle. I hadn’t written to him as much because even back when the correspondence was flying, he often had gaps of a day or two between my messages and his responses, which made me overthink and wonder if I was overwhelming him with too much verbiage. So I backed off a bit. But here he was, telling me he missed talking to me.

I was so delighted by his directness that I spontaneously kissed him on the cheek and said “Hooray for being upfront about your needs!” I then came clean about my own thought process there, and added that also I’d been kinda wanting to move from FL message to texting but felt that this might come across as level jumping so I didn’t. He said he’d love for me to text him. I asked if there was any curfew on that or if it could be anytime; he said when he’s asleep he doesn’t hear the notifications so it won’t bother him and I should go ahead and say stuff any time I want. I told him my phone is almost always on silent mode so he was welcome to do likewise.

And then, remember how I mentioned in a previous entry that I’d texted asking when I could see him again and he never replied? For over 24 hours I sat there shaking and sweating like a heroin addict, waiting for him to give me a time to see me, and when he finally did text me it was with something about how he knows I’m busy but he’s been thinking about me and wanting to make me moan with his touch. And I thought “Then fucking get over here and do it!” but if he wasn’t suggesting a day/time, I figured there was a reason and I’d just have to wait. I didn’t prompt him. I was afraid of looking too needy.

Turns out he’d replied to my “when can I see you again” pretty much immediately but the message was never delivered. His “I know you’re busy but I’m thinking of you” was because he thought I wasn’t responding to him and he didn’t wanna seem pushy/needy! We got that sorted out and now he’ll be coming over on Sunday. And when he does, it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion that we’ll play. I’d intended on taking things slowly in order to build trust, but so far he just radiates trustworthiness, to me. He’s shown that he’s not scared to make his needs known and he’s shown that he’s more than willing to cater to mine. He has some prior experience and knows what he likes, but he has room for flexibility and seems like he can adapt to a new partner’s take on things instead of expecting them to play out his exact fantasies. This boy feels like the real deal.

Last time he was here, sometime after the long, long interlude of petting me into a stupefied trance, he made some offhanded comment wondering why I didn’t order him around more. I said “What else could I possibly have wanted you to do, though?” and that’s true – when he was petting me, he was reading my signals well enough to be hitting allllll my good spots optimally. And at the moment I didn’t want anything more than pettings. Also, though? I’m a stickler for consent. He hadn’t told me he was okay with being ordered around, thus I didn’t pick that mantle up. I would not have wanted to start making demands only to have him stop short and tell me he didn’t like it/wasn’t ready/whatever.

Also, when we first got back to my place I asked him if the fact that I’d fucked The Dandy on my sheets and not washed them since appealed to his cuckold side at all and he said no, he needs to be in an established relationship for the cuckold feelings to kick in. Which I took as a pretty huge hint that despite our obvious chemistry, he still very much thought of me as not-his-partner. Maybe a potential partner, someday. But not any kind of partner-ish person now. Which in turn made me assume that it would be inappropriate to start bossing him around as though he were my sub. I suspect, now, that I was wrong and that the cuckold thing requires him to be in love but dominance itself can be a casual play partners thing for him.

Anyway. He hasn’t had an orgasm since March and we somehow just both fell into the idea that when I see him next I’ll be playing around with that pent-up sexual tension. And so when we (finally) made concrete plans to see each other again, we had this text discussion:

Me: Also. Slightly awkward talk ahoy…I want to feel I can take control of you. And I think you’d be okay with that. But I haven’t probed too far in that direction because I am very much of the mind that it’s pushy and douchey to do so without consent. So ummmmm can I tell you to do stuff? In the bedroom? Out?

Him: You can. What’s the craziest shit we’re talking about here?

Me: Well, I mean, I’m not gonna jump straight to crazy right out of the gate. And my policy is that, since a sub may not even realize what-all I might ask of him, the first time I ask for a thing it’s okay to say no. I won’t consider it a breach of the dynamic or anything.

Him: Okay. Yes, I’m okay with you directing me.

Me: …Prawrrrrrrrrrr. And ummmmm just to narrow my chances of being rebuffed, sexual contact (including you being penetrated), bondage, light pain and light housework – these are all generally okay with you, from me, at this juncture?

Him: Correct. But I want to reiterate my desire that we use condoms and such for all the “real” penetration. Including on silicone.

This led to me asking if he requires barriers for oral sex (because a penis in the mouth is also penetration), which led to a big awkward talk about STI risk (I haven’t been tested in years and he’s a bit uneasy about this) but I respect that he’s asking the tough questions, and the fact that he asks them tells me that he’s got a good head on his shoulders/isn’t prone to slut shaming or weird superstitious thoughts about STIs as punishment for having fun/cares about safety and will probably be honest with me about any risk factors of his, too. He’s getting tested this week, btw. I…still haven’t made an appointment, because I hate using the phone and also I’m in a therapy program every weekday for the next three weeks so I worry there won’t be time for me to actually go. But I won’t initiate PIV with him until I do go.

Anyway. One more thing I wanted to mention: when he was over last, we talked a lot about what we want in a relationship etc. and both of us kept inserting the other into our hypothetical situations without even thinking about it, and then noticing and being bashful about it. Like: “What’s your stance on X?” “Well, I mean if you – I mean if someone I was in a relationship with, um heh heh – did X, I would probably….” God, I love that. Love love love.

I hope things with this boy keep on being good because I am so fucking smitten right now.




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On Sunday I had that discussion with The Dandy where I basically said his issues with Dandette were causing a big problem for us and something needed to change.

It seemed as though I’d given him a lot to think about so I backed off a bit.

By Wednesday I still hadn’t heard from him and began to wonder if he thought I’d broken up with him or if my demand for a game plan going forward had been unclear. I pinged him a “how are you” text.

The next morning he replied that he’s okay, work has been busy, blah blah blah. As an afterthought he sent a second text asking “how are you?”

I said I’m okay but I’m wondering if he’s come to any conclusions about the stuff we discussed on Sunday. I said if he needed more processing time that’s fine.

He hasn’t responded at all but it’s only been a day and he can be a sporadic texter at the best of times.

Still, though. As easygoing and open as he seems, and as self-aware as he sometimes is, I think The Dandy doesn’t have much idea of how to talk through relationship issues in a rational way. I thought he did but upon reflection that was all me explaining an issue of mine in a rational way and asking him for a certain behaviour and he said yes.

So I doubt I’m going to get the kind of interaction I’m looking for, here.

I wonder if he’ll just never speak to me again because he doesn’t know what to say? I wonder how long I should wait, and if when I’m done waiting I should try one more time to have a discussion, or simply say “well then. I guess we’re done here.”?

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But on a happy note…

That second date with the new boy was aaaaaaaaahmazing. He ended up coming home with me (to hang out, not for sex, as I told him from the getgo) and we did the whole talking-all-night thing and he’s just endlessly fascinating and charming.

Also, relatively early in the evening he figured out that my skin is insanely sensitive and this led to me shucking off all my clothing fairly quickly (“MOAR SKIN CONTACT”) and taking him to bed, where he stroked my entire body for what felt like about an hour and a half¬†(but there’s no clock in my bedroom so I don’t know for sure).¬†And he was¬†amazing. So sensitive to my body signals. His fingers seemed to move like a divining rod, following all my sweet spots around without me having to say a word. He remained fully clothed. There was no sense of him touching me as a lead-up to sex. He seemed to be in a trance. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a partner go into one of those sexy trances before. I often get like that when touching a partner; just completely focused where nothing else exists but their bodies. They usually seem to be enjoying me in a more shallow or utilitarian way, however.

But yeah. This boy. This fucking boy. He petted me in absolute, reverent silence for basically ever, and he was so good at it – and so completely undemanding and focused on my pleasure – that I was able to give myself up to the sensations completely and my consciousness came untethered and floated away like a helium balloon. I was living entirely¬†in my body and my brain was just this empty, ringing white place with all the thoughts and words erased. It’s very, very rare that my mind¬†is not just silent but¬†gone¬†. It feels so fucking good.

Eventually I opened my eyes and started to drift back to coherence. He was gazing into my face with the same awe that I was feeling for him. “That was amazing,” he whispered. I was still not entirely able to speak. I felt like my heart might explode. He stroked a place on my neck with his fingertips and murmured “when your heart starts to beat [hard] I can see it right here.” And then he held me close and eventually I was able to talk and we ended up having conversations about all kinds of different things and eventually we slept. In the morning there was a whole lot more snuggling/talking/smooching and eventually I asked him to make us breakfast and he did and it was good.

We’ve texted a bit since then and when I asked when I could see him again he didn’t respond for over 24 hours and even then he didn’t say anything about seeing me, only that he was thinking of me and wanted to pet me and make me moan for hours. Which is all well and good, but¬†when? …I’m trying to convince myself that maybe he didn’t get my previous message, or I missed one from him, or he meant to tell me when he was free but forgot, or something, rather than this being a sign that he’s lost interest and is trying to deflect me and taper off communications in the most subtle way possible.

Here’s the thing about this boy, though: he’s never been poly before, and although he has cuckold tendencies and wouldn’t mind a partner fucking other dudes, he says he might need to be the only person in his partner’s¬†heart. He knows I have a boyfriend and is tentatively seeing how he feels about that. He did say to me a few times that he’s beginning to think he could maybe deal with it.

Still, though. I feel like I could fall in love with this boy and he’s mildly wigged out by me dating The Dandy, for whom I feel cat-love¬†that will probably go no further. And so when things with The Dandy started going sideways this weekend and I thought about breaking up with him, the thought crept in that maybe in doing so I’d be ensuring the continued presence of the other boy with whom I’m so smitten. And then I felt awful for having that thought because it goes against so many things that I stand for. If I break up with The Dandy it should be on its own merits.


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Here are some things I’m angry about with regards to The Dandy.

  • He’s never called 911 when Dandette would threaten to kill herself. He’s spent all night talking her down – one time he even apparently restrained her to the bed because she would literally take off running toward the knives – but he didn’t call 911. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and figured maybe it didn’t occur to him; maybe he forgot that 911 can be used for things like that. But when he was telling me about these suicide cry-for-help things I expressly told him that he’s not responsible for “saving” her,¬†nor is he even qualified, and he really needs to call 911 to get actual medical professionals there. And shortly after that Dandette freaked out again and The Dandy¬†didn’t fucking call anyone. Even though she was allegedly trying to bolt for the knives (again) and he was needing to physically hold her back. And that is so goddamned irresponsible and also¬†creepy because I’m pretty sure he’d rather feel needed than¬†actually make sure she doesn’t die. If it’s just him talking her down, there’s no guarantee she won’t kill herself as soon as his back is turned. If she’s carted off, put on tranquilizers and strapped to a bed for a while and then given meds and/or therapy, she definitely won’t kill herself. So…yeah.


  • Not long ago I was talking to The Dandy¬†about how I think he really needs to not live with Dandette¬†anymore. He told me, not for the first time, that he didn’t know how to kick her out. I do see that it would seem selfish and awful, in a way, to have a two-bedroom apartment and tell someone with no job and few friends or prospects to GTFO so you could have it all to yourself. I said maybe instead he could just…decide to move into a one-bedroom in the same building. “Okay, Dandette, I’ve decided I don’t want to be spending all this money on rent anymore. I’m downsizing. You need to figure something out.” The Dandy looked intrigued by this idea and even took it five hundred steps further by saying he should get a job in a whole other city so he could move away entirely. But guess what? When I was there over the weekend I saw some paint samples lying around and asked why. He said he’s thinking of painting his bedroom.


  • On The Dandy’s birthday, I took him out to dinner. I said to please choose a mid-range kind of place where there’s something I can eat, but beyond that it was all up to him because it was his day. Dandette…made him a¬†birthday cake and wrote about¬†herself on it. I’ve had a few times when I asked The Dandy over and he seemed a bit reluctant so I told him he seemed to need alone-time and that was fine; we’d hang out whenever he was rested and ready. Dandette…waits til he’s about to go to bed and then stages a suicide attempt. I tell The Dandy what I need from him. Dandette doesn’t state what she needs, and then screams at him for not guessing right. I have anxiety but can usually¬†remind myself during a freakout that it’s just my brain being an asshole, and thereby stay somewhat rational. Dandette has anxiety and will just completely lose her mind on The Dandy, rationality be damned. I’m fucking The Dandy and Dandette is not. And yet when I tell him that Dandette’s presence in his life is unhealthy for him and probably also going to lead to me bailing on our relationship…he goes silent. Because I guess it is just¬†so hard to choose between the two of us.


  • The Dandy knows I am emphatically against him being Dandette’s self-appointed saviour, yet he still¬†tells me about¬†ongoing incidents where he “had” to help her through some anxiety freakout or bit of suicidal ideation. He knows I hate that he lives with Dandette, but when Dandette wrote¬†about herself on his birthday cake he went ahead and let me see it, thus basically allowing her to be metaphorically present during¬†our private time together. What did I ever do to him, that he should so blatantly rub my face in these things he knows I hate?


  • I told The Dandy that in taking care of Dandette¬†like he does, he’s almost certainly exacerbating her anxiety¬†(I say this because it’s exactly what happened with my ex husband. I came to rely on him for¬†everything and felt like I had no idea how to adult anymore. My anxiety just totally closed over my head like black water. But once ex-husband and I split up, I was forced to stand on my own two feet and it became not-scary. Mostly.).¬†Even with my saying this, though, he’s still not making any plans to oust her from the apartment. So, again…does he really want her to be okay? Or does he just get off on her depending on him? Let’s also not forget the “joke” he made about keeping her around because she feels indebted to him for all the food and rent and it makes her do what he wants. Ugh.


  • The Dandy is living with someone who will get the idea to commit suicide and literally run for the knives so that he has to tackle her. But to the best of my knowledge he hasn’t hidden the knives (or scissors or razors or any other potential suicide tool) at all. So…it looks an awful lot like he knows she won’t actually slash her wrists while he’s at work. He’s just playing into her fucked-up little attention-games.


  • I have this paranoia/jinx thing where I’m convinced that every time I start to trust that someone might actually become a permanent fixture in my life, everything fucks up. Happened with Minx. Happened with The Bunny. Happened with The Pedant. And now, just days after The Dandy and I met his mom and felt all cosy and domestic and bonded and I said I was hoping to find a long-term committed relationship and he smiled and squeezed my hand…this all happens.



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