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A Lovely Valentine’s Day

I thought The Dandy and I had done our V-day thing early when he took me to dinner over the weekend, but he offered to come by on the actual day, as well. And he brought some groceries that he made us dinner out of, and mentioned that he might either buy me some new pots and pans or buy himself some and give me the old ones, because mine kinda suck and if he’s gonna be cooking for me here a lot…

While we ate, we watched Closer (one of my favourite movies). The Dandy is into nerdy-type movies but hasn’t seen much of anything else at all, which can be frustrating when I make pop culture references but is awesome in that I get to introduce him to all my favourite things!

And then we had all the sex. Like…all the sex. The Dandy’s style is still kind of foreign to me but I think it’s growing on me. I’m accustomed to initiating sex by doing stuff to a guy’s erogenous zones, but The Dandy claims not to have any aside from his lips and his dick. But kissing him is something I might do any time just recreationally so there’s no way to differentiate between “I am angling for sex” and “I like you and enjoy being close to you. Oh hey, let’s see what’s on tv!” I could escalate by grabbing his dick, but I want more buildup than that. For my sake, not his. So on V-day when the movie ended and we were just snuggling, I stripped to the waist so he could pet more of my skin (which he did, and which had me purring and writhing around) and right about at that point he realized we were going to fuck.

So apparently if I want sex that has a bit of a buildup to it, I get it by presenting my body for him to touch rather than touching his and being turned on by turning him on. Or I could just tell him I wanna have sex but to pet me a while first. But I don’t always feel like doing that, especially since he identifies as dominant and I sometimes worry that telling him what to do will be kind of a boner killer (although we talked about that and he says that nothing I’ve said or done has put him off yet).

Historically, I have not enjoyed a man with great stamina in the PIV arena. My vag gets sore and chafed really quickly and I don’t come from PIV so meh. But then with The Bunny I discovered the joys of the Missionary Hitachi Sandwich and that was somewhat of a game changer – if I’m actually trying to get off during PIV, I do ideally want someone who can fuck me right through my orgasm. Also, The Dandy’s penis feels really good to me. Better than other people’s, I think. Something about the shape or the way he moves or I dunno. Even before I brought the Hitachi into the mix his thrusts were giving me the occasional little clitoral twinge or vag flutter. And then we did the Hitachi sandwich and he pounded me absolutely tirelessly and with perfect rhythm and I came my brains out without worrying even the tiniest bit that he would stop before I was good and done. Because that’s the other thing about The Dandy – even when he’s come he can often stay hard and keep going!

Eventually I was exhausted and my legs were killing me so I had him withdraw. He’d made some flurries of breathing sounds a few different times during teh sex0rs, but the sounds – and the amount of liquid in the condom as he withdrew and sat on his haunches between my knees – were sort of inconclusive to me and he was still perfectly hard so I sat up, stripped the condom off him, and started stroking him. Within a minute or so he had a definite and resounding orgasm, pouring out about a gallon of semen over my wrist.

We then lay down and snuggled. I had come so hard that I wanted to kill him (this is a thing that happens. I don’t know.) and he gazed into my eyes and recognized the violence there and just kind of acknowledged it with a smile, knowing it meant he’d done well and that I would never actually hurt him unless asked. The fact that he can sense my feelings and isn’t scared by them is lovely. I’ve never really had that before. Minx felt my violence and cowered, and The Pedant is tone-deaf to people’s vibes entirely.

“So uh…was that more than one orgasm, on your end? Or am I just not good at reading your signals?” I asked.

“I had a few little ones, just not enough that I had to stop,” The Dandy said. His sexuality is so fucking intriguing to me. And as much as the really long PIV sessions are a bit of a mixed blessing for me, I do love his high capacity for orgasms. Making a guy come is one of my favourite things and for some reason I’ve more often than not been cursed with partners who have long refractory periods. When a guy can only come once a day, it often becomes a big dilemma for me. How will I spend that one orgasm? I crave using his dick for my own pleasure via PIV but I also want to focus on his pleasure, perhaps via a hand job, and I can’t do both and arrrrrgh what do I pick? With The Dandy I may not face these sorts of problems. He has said that it’s possible to just keep stimulating him after he’s come and he’ll come several more times, albeit with longer and longer buildups in between. I told him one of these days I’m gonna give him a hand job and just…not stop. Like, ever. Unless he either begs me or completely runs out of ejaculate. I wanna see what happens.

Oh and by the way, the first time The Dandy and I hooked up, I started stroking him but then he took over. The second time, I did get him all the way there; it took ten minutes and (as last time) his climax-noises were almost nothing, just a few deep breaths. He told me that I was the first person ever to be able to get him off via hand, which is surprising. He’s got a smallish partner count for someone in their 40s (in my opinion) (he says he’s not sure of the exact number but probably in the low double digits) but that’s still probably a dozen women who could have tried and failed. And he’s had a couple of long term relationships so in theory there could have been years of attempts by some partners. And I’m the one to finally get him there?

Now I’m able to make him come with my hand faster than before and his orgasms (from handjobs and whatever else we do that gives him orgasms) are still subtle but definitely less inhibited (and seem like they’re longer and more intense). Much heavier breathing that goes on longer and has perhaps half a moan mixed in. And actual bucking and writhing, too, instead of just lying there completely passively. The Dandy has mentioned, in passing, that his past two long-term relationships were sort of…fraught, sexually. Dandette asked to be topped/dominated and then would scream at him that he was doing it wrong. His ex wife before that did…something shitty when it came to sex, I can’t recall what. Anyway I would imagine The Dandy ended up with a fear of being vulnerable in bed but maybe he’s getting past that with me. I love thinking that. 😀

Anyway. After the PIV and the handjob I was turned on again and got myself off while The Dandy cuddled up to me and petted me. After a while I got up to pee and brush my teeth and The Dandy said he should start keeping a toothbrush here. I had a few still-in-original-package spares in the medicine cabinet so I assigned him one of those. Oh, also I have a red mug that he drank out of a few visits ago and (since I don’t do dishes terribly often and it’s only water in the cup) he’s been leaving it on my bookcase and drinking out of it each visit when he takes his blood pressure pills from the stash he keeps here.

I like how comfortably our lives are beginning to mesh. It’s a lot quicker than in previous relationships, but I kinda need that right now. I’m tired of ambiguity.  And really, all of these little adjustments are just practical considering we see each other on a regular basis. It’s not like we’re eloping or something, we’re just making it so he’s comfortable here since he comes over at least once a week.

In other news, in The Dandy’s ongoing quest to be the most stylish motherfucker on the planet he’s purchased a seven thousand dollar custom suit. The tailor just finished it. The Dandy told me the other day that unfortunately the first time he wears this suit may well be to a funeral because a family friend is dying of cancer. Today I suggested that if he wants to debut the suit in a non-funeral capacity, we could have a dress-up date. I have an expensive (for me) retro-style dress that I’ve never had occasion to wear and I thought perhaps he could take me to sushi and we could be all classy-like. He loved that idea, so that’s probably happening sometime later this week. I’m glad that I can maybe help imbue the suit with happy vibes and let him associate it first and foremost with something nice (if things work that way for him. I admit I may be projecting).


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Mine seems to have vanished for the time being, as he sometimes does.

I don’t understand him. He tells me he loves me. He’s sweet to me when he’s here. When he’s going through a crisis of any kind he always talks as though his very first instinct is to come to me for comfort, saying that all he wants in the world is to be next to me, lying in my arms. He gives every indication that he cares about me…except he’ll sometimes go for a week or more without talking to me and I simply can’t do that when I’m into someone. I’ll miss them. I’ll want to talk to them. And no matter how busy or burned out I am, it’s never not possible for me to send a text message saying “I’m thinking of you” or “I miss you.” It takes seconds to do that.

This, in a nutshell, is why I don’t think of Mine as my sub or my boyfriend, even though I love him and enjoy spending time with him and am generally glad he’s in my life. There’s an element of inconsistency to him that makes me…”distrust him” isn’t quite it, because I don’t think he’s lying to me about anything. I don’t feel I can rely on him, I guess is what it is.

I texted him the other day asking a favour (nothing time sensitive, but still) and he hasn’t responded at all and it just bugs me. I’ve also talked to him about helping me move when the time finally comes and he said he will, but to be honest I think I’ll be looking to The Dandy or possibly my friend Dom to help me with anything that has a strict deadline. I’ll be paying for overlap between apartments so I won’t have to do all my moving in one day; I plan to go piecemeal. If I can manage to get Mine to haul his ass over here during that time, he can take a few carloads of my things for me. But when it’s getting down to the wire and I need the rest of it out by Tuesday or whatever, Mine is not the person I’ll be contacting. He seems capable of saying yes and then bowing out at the last minute because he has to work, or being two hours late and not letting me know.

Having more than one concurrent boyfriend (i.e., man that I love and see regularly and who agrees that we are in a committed relationship) has been my dream since I was a teenager but alas, I am not there yet.

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Moar Dandy stuff

The Dandy and I talk a lot about past relationships and I can’t tell if it’s because we’re both middle-aged (thus thoroughly at the stage of abandoning all dating pretense and straight-up saying “here’s my baggage and here’s what I need in a partner, you up for it or not?”) or if we’re both maybe not quite over all that previous stuff.

I definitely try to hold back on that kind of talk when I’m with a young’un because they’re usually so fresh and optimistic and inexperienced that they don’t really talk about past experiences, they just wanna throw themselves into this awesome new one. So stuff doesn’t really come up and it would feel gauche to wedge it into the conversation. With guys my own age (in my very limited experience) it does come up a bit more; the mutual sussing-out of compatibility is a lot more blatant. But I still haven’t usually talked about my history as much as I do with The Dandy. Not this early in the game, anyway. We name names, even. He knows the names of the exes who have affected me most. I know the names of his. I have never been on that sort of basis with anyone until months into a relationship. I like it. But I still worry that it might be unhealthy, because worrying is what I do.

The Dandy is usually absolutely silent when I tell him things (like explain about how my mental issues affect my life or tell him I’m anxious about something or mention other partners I have) and it unnerves the shit out of me. My ex-husband was usually silent when I had anxiety freakouts and I’m 99% sure it’s because he had no idea what to do and was panicking. So he’d listen and maybe be sad that I was suffering but feel helpless to stop it and he’d go get shitfaced with his friends in order to drown out his icky helpless feelings. I think with The Dandy he’s just trying to be non-judgmental and let me vent? But I’m not sure, so I’m kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Like, yesterday I gave notice at my part-time gallery job because I realized I just don’t have the right kind of brain to handle the level of multitasking and human interaction required. During my quitting talk, my boss said she was relieved to understand that’s what was going on – that she’d been frustrated, wondering why I wasn’t doing certain aspects of the job (“Does she just not like doing those things so she doesn’t do them?”). I had told The Dandy ahead of time that I was planning on quitting and he asked if I would need him to come over after work for emotional support*. I ended up summoning him, and cried in his car after work. I told him how the big quitting talk had triggered some baggage for me because it’s not the first time people have attributed the symptoms of my brain problems/health problems to some kind of moral failing. I told him how when I was a kid my parents had all these earnest talks with me about why I wasn’t cleaning my room when asked. Why oh why was I so lazy and/or disobedient? I even asked myself that. I didn’t feel like I wanted to disobey my parents; I wasn’t a rebellious kind of kid. So I figured I must just be a lazy shithead. Except actually I had undiagnosed celiac disease and was basically suffering from malnutrition and felt sickly all the time and that would be why I had a hard time doing things like cleaning. I told The Dandy all of this and he just kind of absorbed it in absolute silence. I’m really pretty sure the two of us just have different communication styles but my knee-jerk reaction is that if he agreed with me that my parents/boss/etc were being assholes and that I am not in fact bad or lazy, he would say so. And he’s not saying so, so…

But he’s still going out with me so it’s probably fine.

Still, though, I prefer a more active sort of support so I should probably mention that. I still find myself having boundary issues (a problem that plagued me with Minx and The Pedant as well)…it just feels like it would come off so controlling and petty to be like “You’re not even saying anything! Tell me I’m not a bad person and stuff!” (even if I say it nicer than that). But I do want that, and maybe if I asked for it he’d do it. I tend to go straight to assuming that a thing I don’t like about a guy is part of his core personality and I’d therefore be an asshole to try to change him.I mean…I really like The Dandy. But I’m not in love with him. So maybe he’s the ideal practice ground for throwing caution to the wind and just (tactfully) telling him what I want from him instead of always talking myself out of it and trying to adjust my reactions, instead. And hey, if he adjusts his behaviour and starts doing the things I want, he’ll have become a better partner to me and this actually might make me fall for him.

People are funny. The Dandy is a better partner than The Pedant in almost every way. Not just better for me; I mean universally better. Better communicator, better life prospects in general, better conversationalist, better at paying attention to what his partner enjoys and doing those things. The Pedant is weird and selfish and claims to suck at reading people…but he was preternaturally good at dealing with my anxiety. I never even had to explain what I needed from him, that I recall; he was able to see what needed to be done and do it. If I’d ranted to him about people calling me lazy, he would have said they were stupid and that I’m obviously not lazy because [examples]. When I had anxiety freakouts he wouldn’t just nod sympathetically; he’d be able to see exactly how my thinking was fucked up, break it down for me, and – if I was freaking out about a task I needed to complete – he’d break that down for me and give me a small first step to focus on so I wouldn’t keep angsting about the “big picture” and feeling overwhelmed. And I miss that, especially when I’m telling The Dandy how I’m freaking out about a thing and I kind of pause and wait for instruction but he just looks at me and nods. ARRRRGH.

The Pedant never contacts me anymore, btw. Perhaps when he said we’d remain friends he was just paying lip service. I’ve thought about calling upon him for support when I’m anxious, but if he doesn’t come through for me I’ll be crushed and if he does it’ll probably inflame my ardor again so it’s tricky. If only I could magically transfer his considerable skill with my mental issues directly into The Dandy’s brain…


*That’s the second time he saw I was maybe not doing well emotionally and offered to come be there for me without me having to ask. I love that so much. Like…so much. With The Pedant I didn’t ask for his company when I thought The Veteran was stalking me and might show up at my apartment because I was positive he’d say no.


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Apartment hunting

Yesterday I finally sat down and really hardcore looked for places to live. (Well, first I stood up and looked, by walking around my preferred neighbourhood. But it was really cold outside and I realized I could just as easily scope places out online anyway.)

I compiled a big list of available places, within my budget, in areas I want to live in. Some of the building websites even posted floor plans so I could see how big the prospective place might be. I’ve mostly resigned myself to having to downgrade to a bachelor apartment, but damn, most of the floor plans I saw showed a bigger living space than I have now. Or if not bigger overall, at least the main space was quite a bit larger than my current living room, which is where I spend the vast majority of my time, anyway. I don’t think I’d feel too pinched, living in a place twice the size of my living room that also has more closets than I have now.

But then I remembered that exists and I started looking up all the buildings on my list that I had actual addresses for. And almost every single one had a huuuuuge list of reports and a lot of the time people mentioned cockroaches and mice, too. Sounds like most buildings, if someone gets bedbugs or roaches, they’ll only spray the affected unit, not the whole building*. And all this does is drive the pests into surrounding units until the poison wears off and then they come right on back.

I’m freaking out. It feels like nowhere is safe (except here. The guy across the hall got bedbugs a few years back and the landlords got the whole place sprayed immediately, and a second spray the next week to follow up. No bedbugs ever made it into my place and there have been no incidents since).

I hate living here because the neighbours make me miserable. I don’t want to live in another converted house because they’re never soundproof and usually the layout is weird and there aren’t enough closets. I was liking the idea of a high rise because the apartments would actually be designed as apartments, with closets and a nice layout and good soundproofing. But having that many people living in one place also means a way higher potential of someone bringing in some critters.

And technically even if the bedbug registry doesn’t have any reports on a place it may just be a coincidence. Not everyone knows the site exists.

My anxiety is going nuts and I don’t know what to do. 😦


*Okay I can see how they wouldn’t want to have to spray 500 apartments every time one person has a vermin problem but shit, how about at least doing the affected unit and all the adjoining ones?

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Sexual musings re: The Dandy

When The Dandy was here yesterday it came up that he really has no erogenous zones except his mouth and his penis: kiss him and touch his dick and he’s good to start fuckin’. I’d already tentatively come to that conclusion myself, but now he’s actually said it to me. I do wonder if that’s really true or if (like so many guys) he just kinda never learned to listen to his body. Later on when we were watching DVDs I was caressing his back and noticed it gave him goosebumps.

I’m not gonna insist that The Dandy must be wrong about his own body, but I’m not totally closing the door on giving him foreplay that’s not kissing or blowjobs, either. I feel there might be some room to expand his horizons.

The Dandy, incidentally, is a Taurus, astrologically speaking. When I’m seeing someone I’ll often look up how their sign and mine tend to get along together, just for fun. The Pedant is also a Taurus so I already know this one. Aries (that’s me) is fiery and creative in bed but often tends to cut to the chase (accurate) while Taurus is very meat-and-potatoes utilitarian in bed, though sensual and slow. Sometimes, Taurus ends up teaching Aries the value of slowing down and savouring sex more, which can be a great thing. Other times, Aries gets bored with Taurus’ lack of inventiveness. TBH the Taurus part sounds bang-on for The Dandy and I do wonder if he’ll start to bore me a bit, especially once I manage to get out of my current malaise and my kinky side comes roaring back.

We had some great sex yesterday, though. Something about the size and shape of his penis feels really good and turns me on more than PIV with other people usually has, so after a few minutes of riding him I reached over, got my Hitachi Magic Wand, and tried to sit up and get myself off while still movin’ around on The Dandy’s cock. I haven’t been able to get off sitting up in years though so this rather predictably didn’t work. After a few minutes I gave up and tried my luck with jackknifing my body so my torso was on his, sandwiching the Hitachi between us and kinda humping it (and by extension him). It makes me self-conscious, doing that. The way I need to wriggle around to get off in that position feels like it looks stupid and I keep expecting my partner to make a snarky remark. Plus the way I need to move is more grindy than thrusty and a lot of guys (including The Pedant) don’t get enough stimulation from it to stay hard. But The Dandy stayed hard and didn’t say anything to make me feel weird. Also he thrust back at me and – I’m pretty sure – purposely flexed his cock inside me sometimes so I could feel the twitch. I love that.

I came incredibly hard – so hard that I was suffused with violence and kind of wanted to start throwing punches. Instead I flung the Hitachi aside and kept thrusting, this time in a broad to-and-fro intended to get The Dandy off. He came within a few minutes, and it looked like a good one. From what I can tell he’s one of those people who automatically goes still when he comes and yet if stimulation continues, it makes his orgasm better. So when he began to come he stopped thrusting up at me, but I kept pounding him and drawing out wave after wave of spasms and breathing sounds and sporadic startled chuckles from him. Like it just went on and on. And I was still all feral and violent from my own orgasm, and I snarled in his ear “until nothing but dust comes out, bitch!” and he laughed and his laughter dissolved into more strangled little noises as I pounded him some more.

I have such a bangover today. I’m used to my legs being stiff the day after sex, so nothing new there, but in this particular encounter I had shoved my hands under The Dandy’s back at one point and was sorta crushing him in my arms as I strained toward coming, so my biceps are totally fucked today.

Anyway. Speaking of sexually utilitarian Tauruses, yesterday I asked The Dandy to tell me a sexual fantasy he has – something feasible that maybe I could help bring to fruition. I knew he wasn’t gonna say anything too fancy or contrived (no costumes or role play or fucking machines, for instance) but I still figured there’d be something. My money was on “FMF threesome.” But no, he said that when he jerks off he usually just thinks about having vanilla sex with someone. Well then. 😛

But y’know…in some says, I’m sexually utilitarian, too. Like, sometimes I see women on Fetlife talking about how their partner gives them the most mindblowing orgasms they’ve ever had, and I don’t understand what that means. Often these seem to be fairly experienced women who’ve been having orgasms for years, but their current partner touched them with all this finesse and did a bunch of sneaky, skillful tricks and they ended up having some whole new level of orgasms. And I do not think that’s possible for me. I don’t think I have any mystical other level. What many people seem to see as skill and finesse usually involves touching lightly and changing things up all the time, which to me is adequate to get me aroused but once I’m craving an orgasm I want the same exact simple, repetitive motion to get me there. Don’t switch things up, don’t show off your manual dexterity by doing a fancy little flick of your wrist. Just rub me right here, straight up and down with steady pressure, until I tell you to stop.

I suppose if a guy managed to give me a different kind of orgasm than I’d ever had before, I’d be blown away by his prowess. My orgasms come from external clitoral stimulation, and always have. And I am in my forties. If some dude came along at this point in my life and got me off just by rummaging around inside me, yeah, I’d probably be all “he blew my mind! He took my body to a whole other level!” blah blah blah. But, you guys…I’ve been fingerbanged a lot. Guys have been gentle, guys have been rough, guys have targeted my g-spot very precisely, guys have been more general, guys have gone looking for other, non-g-spot areas that might be of interest. And none of it gave me the same “holy shit, this has potential!!!” feeling that discovering my clit did when I was a kid. Even when I let a guy keep fingering my insides for ten or fifteen straight minutes, it never felt like anything was building up. At worst, it the sensation of fingers inside me hurts and makes me have to pee. At best, it’s a moderately pleasurable feeling that turns me on and makes me crave external clitoral stimulation – and that’s the most it ever is, even after quite a while. So I frankly can’t imagine what the fuck a guy could do up in there that would make me come.

So I’m not looking for a guy to discover my body and bring me to some higher plane, sexually. I don’t really think there’s anything to discover or any higher plane for me to go to. I just want a guy who’s fine with exactly the way I orgasm right now, and can reliably make it happen. That’s it. If he can do that, I consider the sex to have been good.

Oh, another thing that happened when The Dandy was over, as we were making out and kinda gearing up for sex: we were discussing our respective STI testing statuses. We both admitted we hadn’t been tested in a while; by way of reassurance, he pointed out that he’d been in two long-term monogamous relationships in a row, and I mentioned that I’m fairly selective about PIV. Like, that I have ongoing partners who have never been inside me. PIV is never a given, even when I’m on a sexual basis with someone. The Dandy said “I must be really special, then” and I agreed with that. We’d been lying face to face and sporadically kissing, but when I concurred that he is indeed a special case for me, he put his hand on the back of my head and mashed my face against his chest so I couldn’t make eye contact, and kept me clamped in like that for a while. I suspect that what I said had hit him hard emotionally and he didn’t want me to see it. It’s endearing that he (maybe?) was overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of me allowing him privileges I don’t dole out to just anyone, but I hope that he can get to a point where he’ll let me actually see his vulnerability. The Pedant hid his feelings by mashing my face into his chest all the time and I’m about fed up with it now.

This in turn reminds me of another thing The Dandy has in common with The Pedant: at one time or another I’ve asked both of them how many people they’ve slept with, and they told me but didn’t turn the question back on me. I approve of this. I asked them their “magic numbers” because in my experience it’s really hard to predict how many people anyone’s fucked. Hot, outgoing, or good-in-bed people have not necessarily had a whole lot of sex. Socially awkward, weird-looking, or mediocre-in-bed people have not necessarily had very little sex. I’ve been conducting a sort of ongoing, informal poll ever since I figured this out, just to remind myself that the stereotypes don’t hold water. But women’s sexual experience has been used against us so much that “what’s your number?” is a really fraught thing to ask. I would have a hard time believing that a partner was truly just curious and wouldn’t judge my answer. So I’m glad The Pedant and The Dandy opted not to ask.

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I haz a boyfriend. :D

The Dandy just spent the night here. It was very pleasant, and before he left I asked him if it was too soon to ask what title he’d give this…thing we’re doing. He said he would consider me his girlfriend. I said I was amenable to that. And then I found myself tearing up, because for so long I’ve been having these ambiguous interactions with guys (The Pedant, The Bunny, Mine) where we’ve been seeing each other for over a year but I don’t want to call it a relationship, or I do but I’m afraid to ask what they think it is because I’m pretty sure I won’t like the answer. Or I do ask and I don’t like the answer: with The Bunny I was hoping for a title and got him to agree to listing a relationship status for us on Fetlife: we were “lovers.” But, Fetlife structures things weirdly so his profile ended up saying both that we were lovers and (still) that he was single. I thought at first that this was an oversight but when I pointed it out…well, he was evasive, and wouldn’t come out and tell me that he didn’t think of me as a relationship per se and thus still thought of himself as single, but I’m quite sure that’s what was up. Since we broke up he has fallen in love with someone and they are listed as “in an open relationship,” with the “single” part gone. Well then.

The thing about being monogamous is that when you start seeing someone there has to be an “is this officially a relationship” talk because there’s a definitive behavioural change expected if it is: you’ll stop seeing other people. And for that matter if it’s determined that the other person is not up for a relationship, you may want to cut your losses and break up with them so you can search for someone who does want a relationship. Now that I’m poly, none of that applies anymore; we can still see other people regardless of what our relationship is or whether or not we’re in love. And, okay, I’ve fallen into a bad pattern of choosing men who seem kind of aloof and emotionally unavailable, so that I’m afraid The Talk would scare them off or yield an answer I don’t like. And the relationship itself remains functionally the same no matter what we call it, anyway, so I convinced myself that it didn’t matter. But it matters.

I’m sick of feeling like I’ve just fallen into things with guys by default. I want someone who will actively choose me. And The Dandy has. So I’m happy. 😀

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Moar Dandy things

I forgot to mention, last time I saw The Dandy I asked him “So hey, if we assume that the way I am lately – with regards to anxiety and whatnot – is my baseline, and I’m never gonna get any better than this, does that seem like something you can deal with?”

He said yes, with just the right amount of pause. If he’d jumped in too fast with that “yes” it would have felt like he was just sucking up, and if he’d stopped and thought about it a bunch first it would have felt like he saw a lot of red flags and really had to ponder whether they were worth it. But he gave his answer within a normal amount of time.

The way I am lately, incidentally, is…middling. The cognitive behavioural therapy I took recently seems to have opened up a bunch of sadness and baggage and shit that I thought I’d put away, but it’s also helped me to become a bit more functional. All my emotional wounds are really raw right now so I tend to get in fatalistic moods where everything reminds me of various shitty things that have happened to me to make me who I am. Also – as a defensive maneuver because Minx and my ex husband both cited my anxiety and depression as reasons for wanting to leave – I am being almost over the top in presenting myself to The Dandy as fucked up. I want him to have no illusions about what he’s getting into.

So if he’s okay with current, kind of mopey me, that’s a good sign.

Also, it occurred to me that the long hug-ambushes he keeps giving me that I find slightly awkward are exactly what I used to do to The Pendant. I just found The Pedant so incredibly hot, and it felt like it had been so long since someone was so affectionate with me. Perhaps this is how The Dandy feels about me. I’m the first person he’s dated since he and Dandette broke up around two years ago, and if he has a physical “type” I think I fall within it. For my part, I am not as physically attracted to The Dandy as I’d like to be and I’m not as backed up for physical affection as he is so all the hugging just seems kind of extraneous. I’m not actually complaining, though.

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