Tag Archives: dating angst

These people are driving me crazy.

Now I know where The Dandy gets his refusal to talk through issues from, I guess. Or vice-versa.

A few days after the awful drunken incident, I got up all my nerve and asked Dandette at the dinner table if we could lay off alcohol for a while*. I assumed this would be the beginning of us talking through what happened that night so I’d rehearsed, over and over again the gentlest possible ways of saying what I needed to say. It made me feel barfy to have to face it all head-on but I figured it was the only way to make my feelings clear and make sure Dandette was less likely to repeat any of the shitty things she did.

But no. When I took a deep breath and casually asked “Hey would it be okay if we stopped drinking for a while?” she said “Yep” and then immediately segued into another topic of discussion, giving off a palpable vibe of “I know you didn’t like how I acted last night but I don’t want to explicitly hear about it because it’ll be too upsetting.” And I didn’t have the nerve to pursue it. But since that night she’s done some very tame versions of the things I didn’t like (fishing for compliments from me on how sexy she is, poking me in the boob and going “Ooooh, squishy!”) so clearly she doesn’t know what exactly I disliked about that night. She just knows it’s something, and she doesn’t want to feel all bad and guilty hearing about it. Or maybe she just assumes I don’t like being around drunk people for no other reason than them being drunk. She has phrased it that way before: “I know you hate being around people who are drunk.” Like just the fact of someone having had a lot of alcohol is my problem and not the invariable sloppiness and boundary violations and maudlin soliloquies that come with it.

Tangent necessary to get to my second example of discussion avoidance: I spent an entire day feeling crazy and gaslighted because The Dandy refused to concede my point about the grocery thing, like, at all. Or refused to hear my point. See, I brought it up yet again the day after it first came up because I didn’t feel like anything had been resolved. I said “So, about yesterday…all I want is for you to let me know if you didn’t get to an errand you said you’d do so I know it still needs to be done and I can maybe pick up the slack. That’s reasonable, right?”

He said “No, I don’t think it is. It sounds like you’re just mad at Dandette for being anxious and me for being sick**.”

Oh, for – I didn’t even say anything about that. I have anxiety and other health issues, myself; I’m the last one to be judgey about this stuff. My point is that if you or Dandette say you’re going to do something – an important thing like getting more groceries when we’re almost out – but then you don’t do it, I need to know that it didn’t get done. I need you to keep me informed so I can decide what I’m gonna do from there. Get it?”

And The Dandy replied that when he used the word “unreasonable” he was talking about how angry I got that night and I was like “Okay, yes, I feel bad for that, I didn’t intend to yell like that. I was exhausted and sore and probably having a blood sugar crash and I snapped. I’m sorry for that- ” The Dandy seemed mollified “- But you do get what I’m saying, right? I need to be kept in the loop about things that affect me.” And he went silent and stared at me with a belligerent expression like I was pushing him to do something completely crazy and unreasonable and he was bracing himself for a fight to defend his boundaries.

Which made me lose my patience somewhat and I said various versions of “For fuck’s sake, just do your best to fulfill your agreements and if you can’t then tell me you couldn’t. This is basic adulting. I can’t understand why it seems so foreign to you.” I said this to him in the car on the way to my model gig (he did end up driving me) and when he still didn’t say anything I said it to him some more when I got home. And he still sat there being belligerent and silent.

Eventually he said something that broke the stalemate – I forget what. I think maybe he finally admitted that it wasn’t unreasonable for me to want to know whether or not there was food in the house. But then he kinda acted like the argument was over and I was like “Well, I kinda need to hear an ‘I can understand why you were frustrated and I will try harder to keep you informed going forward.’ During all of this you’ve basically acted like I was crazy for feeling like I do. You still haven’t validated my feelings or said that you’d try to change. And without that, I don’t know how to stop feeling angry.”

The Dandy sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation but didn’t fucking say anything. “This,” I said. “This right here. What’s going through your mind when you get silent like this?” He didn’t tell me, of course. And I honestly can’t even remember how our fight ended. Probably he grudgingly said “Yeah, those things you said, I concur with them” or something and I decided that would have to do.

So the day after that, I brought up my fight with The Dandy to Dandette, really only as a pretext to make sure she knew my core issue with everything, too: being kept informed. ‘Cause when we’d texted about this, she too kept getting stuck on “you’re mad at me for not doing the thing” even though I expressly said no, I just want to be told when a thing doesn’t get done.

We were hanging out in the living room and I casually said “So all day yesterday The Dandy and I kept talking about the thing with the groceries and he basically made me feel like I was going crazy.”

Dandette’s demeanor completely changed from relaxed to “Ohhhh shit” at this point but I forged ahead because I didn’t know what else to do.

“All I said,” I continued, “Is that if something important doesn’t get done, I need to know so I can figure out a plan B if necessary. I mean I was at a grocery store that night. I could have picked up some stuff for myself, if not everyone else. But nobody told me that I needed to. And The Dandy kept missing my point and thinking I was mad about the lack of groceries itself. Which was not the issue at all.”

Dandette paused. “You made me feel like shit about that, to be honest,” she said finally.

I said I was sorry and that wasn’t my intention at all – I gave her the spiel yet again about how I’d never judge about her having an anxiety attack and not being able to do a thing. I just want to know the thing wasn’t done. That’s all. (God WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR BOTH OF THEM TO GRASP.)

Dandette said she didn’t realize it was important to me to be kept informed like that but she’d try to do so in future. (GOD WHY ARE THE TWO OF THEM SO WEIRD. I REALLY DON’T THINK THIS IS ROCKET SCIENCE. THEY SAID “WE’RE GONNA DO A HUGE GROCERY RUN TODAY WITH THE CAR TODAY.” THEREFORE I CAME HOME EXPECTING THERE TO BE FOOD IN THE HOUSE. THERE WAS NOT FOOD IN THE HOUSE. IF THEY HAD TOLD ME EARLIER THAT THEY HAD NOT IN FACT PURCHASED ANY FOOD, I COULD HAVE DONE SO ON MY WAY HOME.) Then  she change the subject, so I guess that was the end of our discussion whether I liked it or not.

Oh, just so you know, this is the text conversation I had with Dandette while I was out that night angrily getting myself something for dinner:

Me: Make The Dandy take you out for dinner.

Dandette: Where did you go?

Me: Grocery store to see if they have something I want. [New message] You two also need to eat and I very much want to be alone so if you could go eat somewhere that would be good.

Dandette: Shit I’m so sorry. I can go to the store and grab something to make for dinner. He’s not going to want to go out while he’s sick. [New message, I guess responding to my second one] Ohhh ok.

Me: Let me know which way things end up going, then – if I get space or not.

Dandette: He’s in the shower right now. The brain weasels are making me ask – did I do something wrong?

Me: I get anxious when there’s not enough food. At least twice now, you and/or The Dandy said you’d do a grocery run but didn’t. And (this is key) didn’t TELL ME. So I go home from work, right past a grocery store, to find there’s nothing and I’m out of spoons to go out again. [new message] I was AT a grocery store after work today. I only picked up drinkable yogurt for work. I wanted to text you and confirm that groceries had indeed been gotten but I pretty much figured nobody would answer me in time.***

Dandette: I’m sorry I ran out of spoons today. I’ll go to the grocery store right now. You can hide in my room. I’ll be a while there. [New message] I’m such a useless piece of shit.

Me: I  do understand about the fickle spoons. I just need *communication*. I can deal with plans changing. I can’t deal with people saying they’ll do a thing but then just not doing it. [new message] And I get home and ask about groceries and The Dandy is like “Oh, no, Dandette ended up passing out” like dude YOU HAVE A CAR and working legs and a working brain why can you not do this unless Dandette is awake?

Dandette: He’s not very good with getting groceries. I should have just sucked it up and gone.

Me: Just texting to say it didn’t get done and I’d need to pick something up would have been fine.

So, reviewing this now with a clearer head…I mean Dandette has anxiety issues and if I could do it over again I’d’ve sugarcoated things more but I don’t think I said anything particularly horrible or seemed like I was trying to make anyone feel bad – just trying to make it very clear that I was inconvenienced, and what to do about it next time. Considering this exchange happened while I was angry enough to punch someone in the fucking face until it collapsed, I think I did pretty well. I wonder if The Dandy told her about my yelling etc, after I’d left for the store and Dandette had come back from having a smoke? Or I wonder if Dandette assumed my wanting to be alone meant I hated the two of them, even though I never said that?

(My rage did feel centred on the two of them but it also felt sort of overblown to me, like maybe PMS or a bad bout of anxiety poisoning my thinking. I really just wanted time to cool down and figure my shit out without accidentally losing my temper at them for no good reason. Also, I like being alone and Dandette is almost always around so I’ve had frequent times of feeling kind of boxed-in and overly-peopled and wishing everyone would gtfo for a bit even when I wasn’t mad at anyone).

Anyway, that’s twice recently that I tried to have a serious face-to-face talk with Dandette to let her know what I need from her in order to be happy here and she cut it short as fast as she possibly could. I don’t think it bodes well.

 

*To her everlasting credit, she invited me to ask this of her anytime I needed to because she knows I was married to an alcoholic and have some triggers around alcohol.

**I forgot to mention he was getting over a cold that day. This is the excuse he used for not getting food (but, tellingly, only after he saw I was angry about it). I call bullshit. First off, Dandette says he’s always needed to be coddled and prodded and hand-held into getting groceries – and I’ve somewhat noticed this, too, even in my short time here. Second, even at the peak of this cold he wasn’t feeling shitty enough to call in sick at work, and the day before the grocery incident he told me he was actually feeling a lot better – that maybe he sounded worse because he was coughing so much, but that was just the germs working their way out. He was not by any means so sick that he couldn’t get off the couch.

***The Dandy never checks his phone. Dandette does, but her sleep schedule is all over the place and indeed it sounds like she was having a post-anxiety-attack nap all that afternoon and would not have been available to read any texts.

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Rage

I’m just fucking furious about All The Things today. So much so that I wonder if it’s even genuine emotion or some hormonal thing. Maybe I’ve just been suppressing a lot of shit and it’s not suppressable anymore. I dunno.

Grocery-wise, we’ve been running on fumes for days now if not a week. And on at least two occasions, The Dandy (WHO HAS A CAR) and/or Dandette (WHO DOESN’T HAVE A JOB AND HAS ALL DAY TO GET SHIT DONE) has said that they would go do a huge grocery run. And then they didn’t. And they didn’t bother to tell me this. So I come home from work (passing right by a grocery store along the way, btw, but not picking anything up because I assume the people I care about actually fucking did what they said they were gonna do) and I get home and there’s still practically no food and now I’m too exhausted to go out again and get anything.

Yesterday I was off work and Dandette asked me in the morning what I’d like for dinner. I told her, and she said great, yes, she would go buy the stuff for that and make it that night. But as of 5pm she was wrapped in blankets on the couch and clearly settling in for a nap, and I began to suspect that she would not in fact be picking up groceries and making the thing I’d requested. But I didn’t want to ask, because that would seem like pressure and also I’d have to wake her up. So I awkwardly waited around for a few hours and finally at 9pm The Dandy caved in and made pasta. Dandette woke up as we were eating that and had a little apology/freakout over not having made us anything. I can’t really bring myself to give a shit about her feelings here. She deliberately went to sleep in the evening and didn’t set an alarm of any kind. She knew way ahead of time that she wouldn’t be getting groceries or making dinner. Freaking out after the fact seems like too little, too late, and anyway why didn’t she just say “I’m having a really bad brain day and I can’t do it, sorry”? I would have gone out and picked up some food for us, then, instead.

So then the new plan is for The Dandy and Dandette to do a grocery run today. I go to work – where the instructor has me doing poses for fifty minutes without a break and I was too wussy to say anything and afterward I’m just completely drained. I stop in at a grocery store on the way home to get drinkable yogurts for work snacks – I’m the only one who has those so it’s only fair that I should get ’em. It occurs to me that possibly The Dandy and Dandette didn’t go get groceries, but they never respond to texts in a timely fashion and usually won’t pick up the phone, either, so it’s useless trying to ask. I debate getting myself some dinner but if it turns out they did get groceries, it will look like I didn’t have any faith in them. So I just get the yogurts. I come home, wrecked and sore and pissy, and ask The Dandy – who comes out to greet me in his pajamas – about our grocery status. “Oh, yeah, Dandette had a bad day and had to crash so we didn’t go,” he says, as if it’s just a given that if she doesn’t go for groceries, he can’t, either.

HE. HAS. A. CAR.

HE. DOES. NOT. HAVE. ISSUES. WITH. LOW. ENERGY.

HE. DOES. NOT. HAVE. ISSUES. WITH. ANXIETY.

IT. IS. SATURDAY. AND. HE. DID. NOT. WORK.

WHY. THE. FUCK. DOES. HE. NEED. HIS. HAND. HELD. IN. ORDER. TO. DO. BASIC. ADULTING.

I sat on the couch for a while, silently, so full of rage I could barely see. The Dandy eventually asked what was wrong.

“I’m just deeply irritated that nobody’s gotten groceries. Still. We’ve been low for days now and at least twice you’ve said you’d get them and you didn’t and you didn’t even tell me so I could pick something up myself.” And then I just kind of lost it and started yelling that I’ve been working all the time lately and dealing with chronic stress and shoulder pain and back pain and insomnia and trying to process all the shit that happened with Dandette the other night (Dandette was presently out for a smoke, hence my yelling about it freely) and The Dandy’s been off all day and HAS A CAR and HAS ENERGY and he apparently opted to just sit around on the couch all day instead of making sure there was food in the house. And of course he didn’t bother to even tell me that he hadn’t done it because hey, why would anyone ever fucking tell me what was going on or hold to their promises or anything silly like that?

And I stomped off and hurled my knapsack into the bedroom and lay on the bed for a bit. Then I decided, fuck it, I would go back out to the grocery store and get myself something to make for dinner, just for me. The Dandy had suggested ordering pizza but some days my body tells me I’ve hit some kind of quota on bready things and today was one of those days. My body was also telling me it wanted vegetables. So I decided I would go get a trout fillet and some stuff for a salad. As I stomped back out and put my shoes on, The Dandy shuffled out of the living room to ask where I was going. I told him I was going out to get myself food.

“I can go with you,” The Dandy said. “I mean, I have a car…”

I was sorely tempted to scream “OH, DO YOU? I DIDN’T NOTICE!” but instead I just flung myself out the door and slammed it behind me.

At the grocery store I texted Dandette (who does check her phone often when awake; the problem at the other grocery store before was that I figured, rightly, that she was probably passed out) asking if she could get The Dandy to take her out to dinner because I really, really wanted to be alone.

She asked if it was something she’d done and I said that I get anxious when there’s not much food in the house and it was exacerbating it that they kept saying they’d get more but didn’t. I emphasized that if they’d TOLD me they didn’t get stuff, I would have taken care of it myself, but they never said anything, they just didn’t do what they said they’d do and then I’d come home with no energy left and find that there was no food. Dandette of course chose to wallow in a whole “I’m sorry my anxiety kept me from going to the store, I’m a useless piece of shit, blah blah blah self-flagellation blah” even though I repeatedly said that the issue is actually the not keeping me informed.

Although, just between you and me? Yeah, I am annoyed that she didn’t go. I know it was due to anxiety and exhaustion and I get it and I sympathize. I’m not going to push her to do things she doesn’t feel able to do. I want her to take care of herself first and foremost. But her official role here was supposed to be our “housewife” – including getting groceries and cooking dinner every night. In most ways, I would prefer to live alone. I like having privacy and space. I opted to trade my privacy and space for regular meals I don’t have to cook. But those aren’t happening, and yeah, it sucks.

The Dandy and Dandette didn’t end up going out for dinner but they did go get groceries and Dandette said I could use her room for alone-time for a while. So that’s where I am now – sitting on her bed angry-typing. They got home a few minutes ago. I’d like to go back to my own room again but The Dandy is there and I don’t know how to not be angry at him right  now. If he were to apologize, I’d probably melt immediately and be okay. But he’s not much of an apologizer. And then I wonder if I should apologize – I did lose my temper pretty  hard, after all – but I only lost it after months of feeling like nobody here goddamned listens to me, so maybe he needed to get yelled at. I’ve been saying forever now that I need to feel kept in the loop about things – including household stuff like whether there will be food around or when people are getting home.

It’s somewhat mollifying that both of them got the fuck out when I told them I needed to be alone, and that they hurried up and did the thing I was pissed off at them not doing. And here again I feel like I was acting like a prima donna, kicking people out of their own home or whatever, but then again The Dandy and I have also done this for Dandette. And I really, really am not someone anybody wants to be around today.

In other news, maybe two months ago I booked a model gig that’s in the back of beyond. The gig is tomorrow. During the two months leading up to it I have asked The Dandy at least four times if he would mind very much driving me to the thing (and I’d get home on my own) in order to shave like an hour off my commute. I probably shouldn’t have even taken this job since it’s so bloody far away, but I did and I’m too chicken to cancel so it’s just a thing I need to deal with and then I won’t take any more work from the place. Anyway, every time I asked The Dandy if he would drive me, he said “maybe.” Including when I asked yesterday, and that’s driving me mad. Like either say yes and put it on your calendar as an official thing you’re doing, or tell me no. I bet you anything if I asked him right now, even, he still would say “maybe.” Like he’d expect me to wake up tomorrow early enough to commute by transit and then check with him then about driving me and he’d see if he felt like it. THAT DOESN’T HELP ME. The point of getting a drive was to be able to sleep longer.

One more thing before I go: I also don’t feel listened to with regards to sleep. I have told both of them that my entire life is a struggle to get enough sleep. I have said in no uncertain terms that it’s hard for me to get to sleep and that I am the lightest sleeper ever. And yet these stupid fuckers consistently have conversations right outside the bedroom at normal volume after I’ve gone to bed, or even yell across the apartment to each other. Or else they come into the bedroom to get stuff while I’m trying to sleep and don’t particularly try to be quiet about it. On numerous occasions I’ve been lying down in the bedroom during the early evening, trying to nap, and The Dandy is quietly internetting (which is fine) and Dandette comes in for whatever reason and they end up having a little conversation about how I’m asleep. NO I’M NOT. I’m just lying here with my eyes closed. That’s always what I’m doing when I appear to be asleep. Shut up and fuck off.

And like I know it’s often daytime when that happens, so maybe it’s unfair to expect people to tiptoe around, but given that I have expressly said that I never goddamned sleep well and I need to nap whenever the opportunity presents itself or else I will go absolutely batshit crazy, it seems like there are extenuating circumstances here. Plus, I mean, I’m in my bed, not the common areas of the apartment – I’d never expect to fall asleep on the couch and have anyone tiptoe. But one would hope that if I’m in bed trying to sleep, regardless what time of day, Dandette would walk in, see me lying in bed with my eyes shut, and not have a conversation right next to me. Or that The Dandy would point out that I was trying to sleep, and quietly leave the room to talk to Dandette in the living room.

And I keep telling myself that having my own room will make everything better, but will it? Or will Dandette just come busting into my room, chattering away while fetching something she wants to borrow?

Do these fuckers have any sense of boundaries at all?

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Terrible things

I’ve been putting off writing about this because it will be a long post (or series of them) and I haven’t had the time or energy to plow through it. But here we go.

Dandette recently mentioned in passing that she waits until the rest of us are asleep or away in order to get herself off. She said she was afraid of being made fun of. I said I’d never do that and she said “not by you” and gave The Dandy a pointed look. I said we really should have a “nobody acknowledges anything they hear from someone else’s closed bedroom” pact* and Dandette agreed.

The other night she got off within my earshot for the first time, in her bedroom while The Dandy and I were right next door in ours. She’s said that she’s loud, and she wasn’t kidding. Not just moaning but actually yelling “YESSSS FUCK ME” and other things that were obviously playing into some fantasy in her head. But, okay, whatever works.

Shortly after she finished, she came out, briskly washed her hands, and hung out with us for a bit like normal (it was hard for me to make eye contact, though – I have to admit I was weirded out knowing she’d literally just been masturbating). Things segued into her playing with, then sucking, The Dandy’s cock. “Want some?” she asked, gesturing to it. His cock was glistening with her saliva and this revolted me, though, and also I wasn’t in a sexy headspace at all; I was getting things ready for work the next day. I said no thanks and went to the living room to gather up some stuff from my dresser-o-props; I figured the two of them would probably end up fucking, and that’s fine.

A few minutes later, Dandette called out that she had something for me. I went back into the bedroom and she was like “See? I got you a hard cock for you to jump on” and once again offered The Dandy to me.

Dandette is infuriatingly shy sometimes about asking for what she wants, and will in fact offer someone else a thing she wants, sometimes, I guess only feeling like she can have the thing once everyone else who might want it has turned it down. I wondered if she was doing this right now. I also was still not in a sexy headspace.

But then I realized: we’d just heard her get off, and she surely knows that we heard her. Probably this was some kind of weird bribe or barter, like “You’ve  heard me being all vulnerable and sexual and I feel weird about it so go make some noises, yourselves, to even the score!” And I totally get that. When Dandette expressed interest in a Hitachi Magic Wand a few months back, it suddenly occurred to me that it would be amazing for her wanks to be obvious every damn time like mine are so I wouldn’t feel so exposed all the time – so I badgered The Dandy to go halfsies with me on one for her. Not that I ever hear her use the thing.

I took the proffered cock in my hand. “Uh, do you…want to?” I asked The Dandy. “I know you’ve been feeling a little sick today.”

“I…guess so?” The Dandy said.

“Okay then.”

I thanked Dandette for her “gift” and hugged her goodbye and shut the door to have sex with The Dandy.

Long story short: we were both having the sex for Dandette’s benefit without actually wanting to; I found out later that The Dandy had also suspected this was a “make sex noises so it cancels out mine from before” thing and was trying to humour her. But I didn’t know that at the time. He kept going soft, but sometimes that happens to people. At one point Dandette called through the door “As you fuck each other I just want to know that I love you both” which was sweet I guess but not a mood enhancer. We both managed to come eventually (actually I ended up coming three times, somehow) and as often happens, the orgasms gave me the giggles. Dandette called out “if you don’t stop laughing soon, I’m coming in there!” and I had a feeling she really would and that she wouldn’t knock first so I immediately got up and put on my bathrobe.

Sure enough, she did come busting in a minute later. She cuddled with us both and then I had to get up to pee. While I was doing that, I heard her say to The Dandy that she’d wanted him to have sex with her just then and was sad that he’d chosen me. “But you told me to have sex with Cowgirl,” The Dandy said. “How was I supposed to know that you wanted it?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Dandette said. “I learned this weekend** that my place in life is not to have pleasure. It’s to get people worked up so they can go fuck someone else. My  job is to make other people’s lives pleasant and comfortable. Did you enjoy the sex?”

“Yeah…?”

“Then I’m happy.”

I returned and lay on the bed and The Dandy decided to go have a bath. I can’t remember the context – if any – but Dandette started playfully flipping back the edge of my robe to expose my genitals – and we were not previously on a looking-at-each-other’s-genitals basis***.

I did not like her doing this. But I have this thing where it’s almost impossible for me to do something other than what people are clearly expecting. When I was little and my parents would make fun of me and laugh, I’d try to laugh, too, even though I wasn’t having fun; it was just so obviously what I was supposed to do. I’ve had people kiss me who I wasn’t interested in and I automatically kissed them back. I think this urge is either an appeasement reflex that comes from having an abusive parent, or maybe something to do with me being on the autism spectrum and trying to imitate other people in order to blend in. Or both.

So instead of saying anything along the lines of “WTF? Stop it” I found my mind segueing into exactly the same thought process it always does when I’m being sexually assaulted: “Well, I mean, this could be platonic, right? It would be nice, to have the kind of comfortable relationship with someone where we could be close to each other like this and it’s non-sexual. That’s probably what this is. It’s probably fine. It’s not what I was expecting out of this particular person, but I can adapt.” Dandette continued flipping up my bathrobe and putting it down again over and over in a joking, playful manner, telling me my genitals were pretty, and I laughed awkwardly and made jokes to try to look playful, too. Then she was like “Oh, here, I should make it equal” and pulled down her pajama pants to expose her vulva to me, and I don’t even remember what I did – just stared awkwardly at the ceiling, I guess.

Eventually that stopped and she just snuggled with me for a while, while monologuing about how her role is to keep The Dandy and I happy/he obviously wants to fuck me more than he wants to fuck her/he’s told her outright that he doesn’t enjoy fucking her very much/he’s told her outright that the sounds of her masturbation are annoying and intrusive and this is why she’s afraid to do it within earshot. She was getting her facts screwed up, though; she said that before I moved in, The Dandy complained about the sound of her Hitachi. I pointed out that she didn’t have a Hitachi before I moved in; The Dandy and I went halves on one for her after I was living here. She looked up at me and – apparently missing the point entirely – said “yeah, you’ve trained him to be okay with the sound. But with me he wasn’t.”

At this point (and in retrospect I think I started paying attention because that weird twisting of the truth reminded me of my ex-mother-in-law when she was shitfaced) I noticed that Dandette was slurring her words slightly. Oh shit, she’d had wine with dinner. How much? Enough for her to be drunk? Enough for her to be drunk enough to slur? Or was I just imagining that her voice sounded blurry?

I’ve said before that I’m pretty sure I’m on the autism spectrum somewhere. The big thing that kept me from realizing it until lately is that people on the spectrum are notorious for not reading body language/nonverbal cues, and I’m great at it. Except that I’m terrible at figuring out when someone is drunk or high. That’s an area where I do actually have to piece evidence together with my rational mind because I just can’t pick up on anything more subtle than someone actually staggering around and screaming swear words with a bottle in their hand. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve interacted with someone and afterwards, whoever was with me was like “Oh maaaan that person was drunk/high as fuck” and I was like “They were?” – I’m just really stupid about this shit.

Then Dandette said that she wanted to go grope The Dandy in the bath but he probably wouldn’t want her to, and I kept insisting that he would probably be fine with it (they are dating, after all) and she was getting all histrionic and finally I stomped into the bathroom like “Hey Dandy, want Dandette to touch your penis?” and he said sure but Dandette insisted that “sure” is code for “I’ll tolerate it but I don’t actually want it” and it became a whole thing. But eventually she did go in there and touch him.

Then she went out for a smoke and The Dandy finished his bath and we lay in bed while I urgently vented to him a whole bunch about the events of the night while I had the chance. This talk involved, in no particular order:

  • The Dandy referring to Dandette as being shitfaced.
  • Me being like “ah, so she is drunk, then” and then having to sort of rewrite the entire night in my head because that info changed a lot of things.
  • Me crying because I felt stupid for not grasping that she was drunk.
  • The Dandy and I confirming that neither of us had wanted to fuck each other earlier.
  • The Dandy telling me that not only did Dandette say “go fuck Cowgirl” when she wanted the sex herself, but he straight-up said “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex with me, yourself?” and she had replied “No, you two go have fun.” I hadn’t known that part. It makes it even grosser and more sketchy that she would be mad later at not getting laid. It’s one thing not to be able to ask for what you want, another thing to offer a thing you want to someone else, and yet another to offer a thing you want to someone else and claim outright that you do not want the thing. Like how the fuck is The Dandy ever supposed to have sex with Dandette when he offers and she still says no? How is he supposed to know it’s really a yes? If he insists that he’s gonna fuck her despite her no, it’s rapey and gross ffs. He and I are in agreement that we need to take her words at face value but it just sucks that she’s so weirdly manipulative. And I’m terrified that she’ll end up resenting me for having sex with him or having orgasms with him.
  • I asked him if he’s ever made fun of her for masturbating or been annoyed by the sounds and he said no. This throws my brain into turmoil because I’d believed it when Dandette said it but I was beginning to realize that she was very drunk and blowing shit all out of proportion. I don’t think she was lying outright but who knows what minor thing The Dandy once said that she interpreted as an insult. It would not surprise me if at some point he’d heard her getting off and later just sorta smirked and said “did you have fun?” or some other little nudge-nudge wink-wink acknowledgement and she took it badly.
  • I was like “You do get that her speech about her role being only to support us was self-deprecating, right? Like she doesn’t actually not want pleasure and sex of her own?” “I know that. I’m not stupid,” The Dandy said irritably. But I mean…he’ll stick his dick in her but not get her off, so I really did wonder if he thought she was fulfilled just letting him come into her, with no reciprocation.
  • I asked him if he did in fact have more interest in sex with me than with Dandette. I expected him to say no, it’s about even, and from there I was gonna try to hammer out a plan to help Dandette feel more desired. But The Dandy hesitated and then said “yes.” Yes, he’s more into fucking me than her. I honestly hadn’t expected that. They were together for five years and had obvious feelings and chemistry even when they were broken up, so I kind of assumed he was really into her but just not able to initiate stuff too much because of her mental health-related mood swings and whatnot. Once upon a time, getting told a thing like “I’m more into you” would have made me feel triumphant and pleased. Now it just freaks me out. I don’t want Dandette to resent me for having what she wants. I don’t want an imbalance that makes my living situation all weird. Fuck.

Dandette returned and The Dandy and I fell silent – played ‘possum, basically. It was 3am by that point, anyway, and we did need to get to sleep. But also Dandette has hearing like a bat and I think neither of us wanted her realizing we were awake and trying to talk to us.

Dandette repeatedly opened our closed bedroom door (to let the dog in or out, I think, and who knows why else) and then finally just came on in and insisted we shift over so she could sleep with us. I didn’t want her to but I didn’t want to fight about it, either. I shifted over and only then did The Dandy (who I bet was waiting to see what I’d do) follow suit. The Dandy lay on his back, we each cuddled up to one side of him, Dandette linked fingers with me on his chest, and then she promptly passed out, huffing big putrid gusts of wine and smoke into my face with every exhale. I tried to sleep but was too wound up from the events of the evening so I went out to the living room to watch tv and eventually fell asleep there.

The Dandy had told me early on that Dandette gets in moods of feeling like her only value is sexual, and if nobody wants to fuck her she kind of goes nuts. It was one of the main reasons he was hesitant to get back together with her, actually, and I’m annoyed as shit because I actually brought it up with her directly when we broached the subject of them dating again, like as in “The Dandy was thinking about maybe being with you again but wants to know how you’d handle it if he didn’t want to fuck you, or wanted to fuck me instead,” and she never answered. A few days later she started referring to her and The Dandy as being back together and I asked him “did you ever have that talk, though?” and he said no. These stupid motherfuckers never goddamned discuss anything and then I end up being caught in the middle.

So clearly she was in one of those desperate-to-be-wanted states and that’s what was driving her awful behaviour that night. Oh there’s more than I didn’t mention: she repeatedly told me that she’d fuck me if I wanted, if only I weren’t straight (and I think at one point even yelled “Goddammit why won’t you fuck me?!?”) and also at the dinner table she announced that she was going to take off her shirt because it was too hot in there (she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath btw). Which I would be fine with if that’s actually what it was, but she was giving me a vibe that actually she just wanted me to find her attractive/ogle her/hit on her/something. This was not casual nudity for convenience’ sake; this was her exhibitionist side playing up. I was managing to ignore her tits, as one does when one is being polite, and make normal dinner conversation and it made her antsy. At one point I said I was having a bad day or something and she was like “boobs make everything better!” and used her hands to jiggle them in my direction. At another point she stood behind my chair and flopped her tits onto my shoulders.

We’ve actually clowned around like that before, sort of. She’ll often say “if you ever decide you like chicks, let me know” and I’m like “sure thing” or she’ll flash me to “cheer me up” after a bad day. And it was sort of okay because there wasn’t that edge of desperation to it. But even then (I realize now) I was slightly uncomfortable. I was rationalizing it away like I do with sexual assault, telling myself these acts were just platonic when they really probably aren’t. I think I’m gonna have to stop going with the flow, here, and endeavor to draw some boundaries. I mean I’m probably too chickenshit to say “STOP HITTING ON ME” but the next time she says to let her know if I turn gay I can say “Yeah, I won’t, though. I mean I’m in my 40s so if it was gonna happen I assume it would have by now” instead of being like “ha ha you betcha!”

Incidentally, the missing puzzle piece that Dandette was drunk that night makes me realize that her loud, loud wanking was probably a deliberate performance for us. A “look what you’re missing” aimed at me, perhaps, or a “look what you made me do” aimed at The Dandy. Basically it’s just another version of the theatrical, drunken crying that led to me breaking up with The Dandy that time.

I told him this and he agreed that it’s probably what she was doing. Dammit, Dandy, you knew the whole time that she was drunk; why the fuck didn’t you put two-and-two together then, and realize that the wanking was a self-conscious performance aimed at us? You could have followed the trail of big giant clues to realize that her telling us to have sex was a trap. Neither of us even especially wanted to. We could have said no and probably saved a bunch of drama.

 

*And not just for her benefit, either. She continues to be very clear that she can hear us having sex. Shortly after she finally blew up at The Dandy for never getting her off, she told me the last straw had been a time when The Dandy had said “I’m gonna go pet Cowgirl’s head until she falls asleep” but then Dandette heard the telltale sounds of the Hitachi and knew that head-pets were not what was going on. “In fairness, I do sometimes use the Hitachi on my head when I have a headache,” I said. Dandette replied “when you do that, your sounds are different.” She has also said that my being-given-an-orgasm sounds are different from my being-petted sounds. And has said things like “I was about to come in and put away your laundry but when I got closer to your door I could hear that you and The Dandy were fucking and you were just about to orgasm, so I decided to do some other housework until you were all done.” So she’s made it suuuuper clear that she hears everything I do and can differentiate between all of it. I do not care for this. At all. And I’ve said numerous times that I want us all to pretend that the bedrooms are soundproof. But she still says this shit.

**Dandette was just back from a weekend camping trip with a bunch of friends, including a guy she used to fuck. He’s poly but his girlfriend became jealous of Dandette and that’s why they stopped fucking; Dandette says that she instigated that, not him, but I don’t know if that’s true. She often bitches about the situation as if she wasn’t allowed to fuck this guy anymore – as though he’d broken it off, rather than him being perfectly willing to continue but Dandette saying no out of pity for his girlfriend. Anyway, apparently she and one of her chick friends were flashing this guy and doing other things to tease him, but Dandette of course would go no further, so in essence she was just getting him worked up for when he went home to his wife (yeah he has a wife too). And her anxiety apparently decided to go into histrionics about this and tell her that it was her lot in life to be everyone’s fluffer, even though she (allegedly) decided to stop fluffing that dude and she was the one who decided to flash him.

***Oh that’s the other thing: Dandette has indicated that she’d really like us to all be on a casual nudity basis in our household (instead of The Dandy being naked any time he wants but she and I remaining covered). I would be fine with this. It would be delightfully convenient to not have to bother shutting the door to change, or to not mind Dandette coming into the bathroom to get something while I’m taking a bath, or things like that. Here’s the thing, though: for nudity to be casual, people need to not comment on it. This is how I can be naked for work: nobody goddamned says anything about it. There are never any remarks about my body. At all. But Dandette says things. I’ve been trying to get used to household nudity, and have been topless around her a few times, and she told me I have pretty nipples. I mean yay for compliments I guess but a comment of any kind indicates that my nudity is being looked at and evaluated rather than this just being “meh, this is a body, no big deal, we’re all cool here.”

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Pessimist

I’m feeling pretty pessimistic about men lately, as you may have inferred from recent posts.

But I know that some men exist who aren’t lazy, entitled asshats, and I have determined that I would like to find one (or more) of them. I crave a FWB (or if it turns into more, that’s okay too) who loves to lavish physical attention on me with absolute focus, noticing every tiny response I give him.

So many guys kinda suck, though. Like…so many.

I feel like I might have told this story before but a few months back, I saw a personal ad on FetLife from a guy who wanted to get a woman off using her own toys. This sounded awesome to me. I know from experience, though, that I may not need to be in love with someone to do naked stuff with them but I do need to be able to have a comfortable enough conversation with them that we can get from clothed to naked without it feeling hella awkward. So I messaged that guy telling him yeah, what he wants sounds good, but I’d only do it with someone I have a bit of a rapport with so can we please just pretend sexual stuff isn’t on the table and make small talk like humans for a bit and see how that goes. And then I think I tried to start up a conversation by noting that his profile mentions he likes to travel, and asking if he’s been anywhere interesting lately.

He responded saying he totally understood about me wanting to talk in a non-sexual capacity at first, so that’s cool. But I guess he was super eager to possibly have someone to play with and felt a need to narrow down our compatibility in that respect, because he did put in a bunch of parentheticals relating to how he’d want the play to work between us. Okay fine. And then he responded to my conversation-starter by saying he’d recently been to Iceland (I think? The convo happened a long time ago).

Just saying “yeah I’ve been to Iceland” doesn’t really give me much to build on, but I gamely tried, anyway. I was like “did you go for fun or to visit family?” and he said “to visit family” (OMG DUDE GIVE ME SOMETHING. YOU’RE KILLING ME) and I was like “that’s great that you have family in such a cool place. I don’t. I have some relatives in the ‘States but nowhere exotic. So was Iceland nice?” and he said “yep” and at that point I got frustrated with carrying the conversation and said “feel free to ask me stuff if you want.”

So he asked me something about my clip store (which I stopped updating ages ago but it’s still linked on my profile). My profile has a gazillion writings on it, my posting history is chock-full of anecdotes and opinions, I had explicitly told this guy at the outset that I really needed him to set sex aside for now and show that he could treat me like a person, and the one thing in all the world he could think of to ask me was about the porn I used to make. For fuck’s sake. So I blocked him.

And, I mean, his profile had been longish and articulate and chatty and largely nonsexual. It’s not like I was trying to wring conversation from a dude whose profile said only a single sentence, like “Wanna fuk HMU” or “If you want to know anything about me just ask lol.” And yet.

Anyway.

Last night I stumbled across a guy on FetLife who (again) seems articulate and chatty. I like the tone of his profile. He has a few writings, all of which are delightfully introspective and analytical (and end up showing him to be a person I feel I could get along with). One such writing said that he’s terrible at figuring out when a woman likes him and he’d love it if someone would approach him and plainly state their interest.

So I did that, via private message. Told him a bunch of stuff that seemed cool about him; said that I am currently seeking new partners; said I’d like to talk and get to know him more and see where it went. Admittedly I didn’t attempt to give him a conversation starter topic this time, but I figured the aforementioned gazillion writings and posts attached to my profile would likely do. I mean, surely he would look at my profile to get an idea of who was talking to him, right?

He wrote me back basically saying it was exciting to have a woman be so forward and he’d love to talk to me. And his conversation starter was “So how’re things?”

I just…call me picky, but it doesn’t bode well to me that I made it clear to this dude that I’d read his profile and writings and found him interesting because of them – found him interesting because of who he is, or at least who he appears to be – and his response was pretty much just “hooray! Someone’s paying attention to me!” followed by the world’s most generic conversation opener. Like, dude…did you maybe want to find out anything about me at all and see if you could be into me? Maybe compliment my personality in return and ask me something about myself? Or at least be more interesting than this? If a woman hitting on you is such a rarity, why aren’t you trying harder to hold my attention?

On a whole other note, I have noticed that when fuckbois try to chat with me, they really don’t give a shit what I say at all. They ask how I’m doing and no matter what I say, they’ll keep briskly moving the conversation along with more generic chitchat so they can get to the point of asking for cybersex as quickly as possible and not be diverted by actual conversation. I’ve started being completely absurd with these guys in an attempt to make them actually acknowledge what I’ve said:

Fuckboi: Hey what are you up to right now

Me: I have to go buy seven gallons of industrial glue, some rope, and a ski mask for a thing I’m doing later. How about you?

Fuckboi: Nothin much just hanging lol

I mean, I started off being honest with these guys. I figured, maybe they just weren’t sure how to start a proper conversation, so I’d give them some openings. So I’d respond to “what are you up to” with “Just got back from posing for an art class. I got to wear clothes this time, which was nice. Now I’m looking up gluten free cookie recipes to try.”

Nope, no follow-up questions. Not even for the part where I implied that I regularly pose naked for people. These guys were not paying attention even a little bit. So I started pushing my responses further and further into crazytown – first highlighting the weirdest parts of my actual life, then slowly segueing into outright fabrication – to see if anything would make them actually go “wait, what?” and so far nothing has.

So now this new guy I wrote to is asking me how things are going. I’m going to drop a bunch of true tidbits that are filled with delicious gooey conversation-starting potential and see what he does. If he glosses over it all like a fuckboi, I guess we’re done here.

 

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Selfishness

So often, in relationships, I get resentful because I’m willing to do things for the other person that they won’t do for me. Telling them that I want them to do the things doesn’t generally work, so clearly the solution to the imbalances is to fix them from my side – to stop going out of my way for partners and operate on pure selfishness.* I might still be lacking some things I want from partners, but removing that resentment factor would make things so much better. And honestly, I’ve observed that a lot of the time when a woman stops trying with a guy, he panics and thinks he’s losing her and he picks up the slack. Most women I’ve ever seen who have adoring, kiss-ass husbands or boyfriends are women who are kind of mercenary in their dealings; women who just don’t give a fuck.

On the other hand, I do a lot of emotional labour along the lines of ferretting out what’s upsetting a partner and orchestrating how to fix it; emotional shit that I don’t think my guys have any idea how to do. They couldn’t pick up that slack even if they wanted to, or at least not quickly enough, so the relationships would likely die for that reason.

But I’m fascinated with the idea of just doing whatever I want without thinking much about another person’s feelings, as it often feels like men do. I bet it’d be neat to just act entirely according to my desires without overthinking anything. I’m so used to automatically thinking about other people that it’s hard to imagine what being selfish would even look like. I’m gonna try to visualize it now, just for fun.

Situation #1: The Pedant and his chronic lateness. I’m forever making plans with him and adhering to our agreed-upon timeline, even if it means waking up far earlier than I wanted to – and he almost invariably ends up being hours late. And he doesn’t even tell me upfront “yeah sorry let’s get together six hours from now instead of now.” He texts me “whoops, just a little longer” forty times so I’m always thinking he’s about to show up so I can’t take a nap.

Admittedly, part of the reason I get so tied in knots over his lateness is that I worry that if I did fall asleep or run an errand while waiting for him, he’d text me a few times but then give up and go home and I wouldn’t get to see him at all. So I’d have to not only be selfish in order to change the script here, I’d also have to not care so much about seeing him. But if I could accomplish all that, imagine the text conversations:

Me: Whoops, sorry I’m getting in touch with you five hours after we’d agreed to meet up. I had a late night last night and I ended up sleeping in. But I’m awake now and ready for you to come over.

OR:

Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

Me: Oh I actually got tired of waiting so I’m at [mall half an hour away]. If you could just wait at my door for me to finish shopping and get back, that’d be great.

OR:

Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

Me (an hour later): Oh sorry I was watching a movie and got caught up in it and forgot to check my phone. You can come up now.

OR:

Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

Me: Oh awesome! Hold on, I’ll be down to let you in. [Ten minutes later] Sorry, I was naked when you first texted and I’ve been trying to decide what to wear. I’ve picked an outfit and will be down in five minutes. [Ten minutes later] Yeah I can’t find my keys and I don’t want to leave the apartment unlocked with nobody in it. Bear with me. [Ten minutes later] It’s looking more like I’ll be down in half an hour. [An hour later]  Sorry, something came up. Totally heading to the elevator any minute, though! [Fifteen minutes later] Okay I’m on my way for real now.

I’m not suggesting that I contrive to do any of these things on purpose just to fuck with him, mind you. I’m saying that right now, I do force myself to wake up for plans with The Pedant even if I’ve had practically no sleep; I do forego errands and shopping and stuff because I want to be here when he arrives; I do try to watch movies while waiting but can’t concentrate because I’m constantly checking my phone in case he’s texted to say that he’s here; I have gone to let him in wearing a hasty selection of random floor-clothes and no bra because I was naked when he arrived and didn’t want to keep him waiting. And I’d love to be able to let go of all of that and just live my life according to my desires. I think if I did, I’d feel a lot less resentful over his lateness because it wasn’t causing me to lose out on anything like it does now.

Situation #2: The Dandy’s sexual selfishness. Apparently, he won’t give his partners orgasms unless they specifically tell him to; not even if he’s just had intercourse with someone that left them all turned on and stuff. Often he’ll approach intercourse (with me, anyway) as just another utilitarian means of getting off, heaving himself onto me and thrusting mechanically until he’s done – no eye contact or kissing, no varying his moves and seeing what makes me react the most, nothing. Also usually his default is no foreplay particularly (unless you count me kissing and licking his cock) – if I specifically ask him to pet me, he’ll do so in a perfunctory fashion and without any sort of focus on my responses. Also, no cunnilingus ever, allegedly because he was traumatized by an ex’s terrible smell, but I think he just plain doesn’t feel like it: he says he doesn’t hate the act and that I smell fine and yet.

If I were able to live life according to my own whims, without being overly concerned about other people, I could:

  • Kiss and lick The Dandy’s cock for as long as I wanted, in the way I like, and then just stop when I’ve had enough. (As it stands, the stuff I do to indulge my foreskin fetish is enough stimulation to turn him on sometimes but not enough to get him off, so if he gets erect while I’m doing it I start to feel bad about getting him all riled up and not following through, so eventually I’ll switch to jerking him off even though that doesn’t particularly ring my bell and I really just want to keep aimlessly kissing the tip of his cock.)
  • Stop sexual activity the moment I got bored. If we’re doing PIV and he hasn’t come? Meh, whatever, I’m satisfied. Goodnight! …But of course, if he then took my hand and put it on his cock, I’d take the hint and jerk him off. I mean I’m not a monster. I’m just not bothering to assume that his orgasm has to be an integral part of our bedroom shenanigans.
  • Announce that I want PIV and if The Dandy says he’s up for it, I’ll be like “cool!” and then sit there looking at him and waiting for him to get hard so we can start. No touching or anything. But again, I’m not a monster – if he asks me to touch him and get him ready, I’ll totes plunk my hand on his dick and move it absent-mindedly back and forth while staring at the ceiling. Getting him hard requires a pretty boring, repetitive motion but if it helps us hurry up and get to the fucking, I’m all for it.
  • Incorporate the Hitachi into our PIV every single time. Turn him into an ambulatory sex toy that I hump until I come, and then immediately climb off him and hop in the shower/go do watch tv/fall asleep/whatever unless he specifically tells me he still wants to get off.
  • Never, ever engage in sexual activity with him unless I feel absolutely enthusiastic about it. Stop sex acts in the middle if my wrist/mouth/glutes are getting tired and sore, even if he seems pretty close to orgasm, and not offer any sort of alternative. Take care of my own orgasm at that point if I want one, and expect him to take care of his if he wants one. Ignore him jerking off unless I actively feel like engaging in some way. (Yes, The Dandy has had PIV with me, gotten off, then gotten up to clean up/surf the internet/generally ignore me while I reached for the Hitachi for “my turn.” I’ve had to outright tell him to stay near me and be involved – that my orgasms are part of our sexual encounters, not some extra and unrelated thing.)

Again: this would not game-playing, this would just be an unfiltered version of me who doesn’t feel tacit pressure to please and accommodate partners.

The one way I do wanna fuck with The Dandy that’s absolutely game-playing is to start initiating sex the way he does: by simply showing him my genitals and looking at him like “Well?!” Because that’s irritating and presumptuous as fuck.

Actually I also want to ignore all of his stupid word-free sexual overtures. Like it’s okay by me if he wants sex so he starts kissing and touching me to see if I’m responsive – that sort of wordlessness is fine (mostly because it revolves around giving me pleasure, and will almost always turn me on enough that I will in fact want sex). But for real the other night we were hanging around in the bedroom together and at some point he stealthily pulled his dick out through the hole in his pajama pants and just kind of…waited for me to notice. And when I didn’t, he was like “Jeez, you’re not very observant!” in a jokingly-accusatory-but-probably-not-really-joking tone, and pointedly looked down at his crotch so I’d see his dick flopped out there (all of which is exactly what The Bunny used to do. WTF?!?). And what with him making such a huge goddamned production of “Herrrrrrrre’s my penis!” and acting all tetchy and vulnerable about it, I felt obligated to admire and/or touch said penis in a sexual capacity so he wouldn’t feel rejected. And I hate that feeling of obligation. I hate it even though I actually was interested in sex with him at the time (and we did end up fucking). Use your goddamned words so I can say yes or no, Dandy. Stop hiding behind plausible deniability. If I don’t want to touch your dick but you also haven’t asked me to touch it – just flopped it out and pointed at it – my “no, I don’t want to do this right now” will seem nonsensical at best (what am I saying no to when he didn’t ask for anything?) and overly cruel at worst (like OMG he was just playing around and I was like I DON’T WANT TO DO SEXUAL THINGS WITH YOU, talk about overreacting!).

Anyway.

I honestly do think that if I could be more selfish in relationships, it would make almost all my resentments disappear. There’d be no more imbalance – no more “Humph. I make sacrifices for him and he doesn’t make them for me.”

Except I think if I were selfish it also might destroy said relationships. The Pedant would likely just go home if I made him wait around for hours; he might not be mad about it (we talked about this and he claims he wouldn’t be) but I’d never see him, so for all intents and purposes we’d have no relationship. The Dandy would, I think, probably feel distant from me if I made it obvious that giving him orgasms is sometimes a boring chore I’ve done just to make him feel loved and that I’ve decided not to anymore. Probably he’d feel resentful, then, and it would colour the way he treated me in the rest of the relationship, and then there’d be nothing left to this that makes me happy.

I need to find a middle ground.

 

 

*I mean, the other obvious solution is to find guys who’ll step up just as much as I do, but it’s starting to feel like most dudes are entitled and oblivious and won’t ever be on my level, so…

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The problem is being in limbo.

Okay, y’know the crux of what’s bothering me right now? Not knowing where I stand with The Dandy.

To be perfectly frank, if I thought that he’d fallen out of whatever love he ever had for me but wanted me to “pay” for my continued lodgings by having sex with him and acting like he’s a big fucking man? I’d do it. I’m a good actress, and I am genuinely grateful for how much he helps me. And I understand that he’s not a charitable organization so for him to want to keep helping me, he’ll need a reason, whether it’s that he loves me or I have sex with him or something else that makes it seem like a fair trade. If I definitely knew that this was a “banging for roof” situation, I’d go all in. I’d be like Famke Janssen in that one episode of Star Trek: TNG where she was a sort of changeling alien meant to imprint on one person and one person only and become his perfect mate, and she was supposed to imprint on some diplomat guy in order to prevent a war, but she imprinted on Picard instead by accident, but she was like “It’s cool, my actual personality may have custom-adapted itself to yours but I can still make it look like I’m the diplomat’s perfect woman. He’ll never, ever realize that I’m acting.”

But as it stands, I guess I’m hoping the relationship can be salvaged. And to me, part of salvaging it is to be genuine in my starry-eyed gazes and mushy words – to use them, in a way, as a training mechanism so he’s encouraged to do more things that make me react that way. If I pretend to be all googly-eyed over him when he hasn’t actually done much of anything, he won’t have any impetus to actually please me.

So right now I’m in limbo, trying to decide which way things should go. I’d rather get back my feelings of love for The Dandy, if I can. But if that’s not in the cards – if this is destined to become more of a sugar daddy thing – I wish I could just know now.

Also there’s the distinct possibility that all these relationship troubles are in my fucking head and in reality we’re just in one of those normal ebbs that relationships have and it’s only lasted like a week and I’m just going nuts and making wild extrapolations because anxiety. So there’s that.

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Malaise

I’m probably just going through one of my panicky phases right now but I still feel like my relationship with The Dandy isn’t going particularly well. He still kisses me hello when I get home and periodically solicits hugs, but other than that I kind of feel like just a roommate. We haven’t had sex in a while, partly because I don’t want to (I’m not feeling particularly close with him, and the last time we fucked was just so disappointingly utilitarian). But I always panic when a partner and I aren’t fucking – it always feels like the beginning of the end – and I have been feeling a sort of generalized randiness lately, so I tried putting the moves on him a few different times. He didn’t bite. So now I’m thinking, wait, he doesn’t feel close enough to me to have sex, either? Why the fuck wouldn’t he feel close to me?! Blah blah paranoia blah.

I’ve tried to jumpstart some loving feelings. I made him food a few times recently and have taken to stocking up his daily pill box thingy regularly (he takes an ungodly amount of medications every day for his high blood pressure and heart problems and half the time couldn’t remember if he’d taken his daily dose yet. I feel like blood pressure medication is not a thing you want to accidentally take doubles of, and I told him he needs one of those compartmentalized days-of-the-week things. Turns out he has one, he just hasn’t been using it. So I’ve made it my job to fill it up every Sunday for the coming week).

But I’m still mostly not feeling the closeness I want to, in either direction. He doesn’t reach out and pull me closer in his sleep anymore. I’m not looking at him and feeling gobsmacked by how beautiful he is (because that beauty was, in part, the glow he had for me because love).

And it really sounds like he has a track record of trying hard to impress a partner and then letting everything go to shit once they’re emotionally invested, so I’m wondering if this is just…how things are now. My new and shiny has worn off and now I’m just this person living in his apartment.

I don’t want to have my time taken up by a dead relationship. I think a lot about moving out.

But, the thing is…the housing market is still totally fucked. I don’t think it’s financially feasible anymore for me to live alone. I’d have to go into a roommate situation, which would mean having to learn a whole new set of people with their weird expectations etc. The Dandy is pretty easygoing. Dandette is either easygoing or wracked with panic attacks, depending on the day, but when she’s having a bad brain day she keeps to herself and doesn’t expect me to do anything. I never have to worry about rent because The Dandy is easily capable of covering it all with his salary alone in the event that my finances go sideways – where else am I gonna find someone that rich who wants roommates and is okay with picking up their slack once in a while*? Dandette does the lion’s share of cooking and cleaning, which improves my life immeasurably. And The Dandy buys most of the food and pays the whole bill for internet and Netflix, which relieves me of considerable financial strain.

And we’re on a waiting list for a bigger place where I can have my own bedroom, which neatly eliminates a lot of minor-key irritation (and occasional major irritations) for The Dandy and I. We’d both finally be able to have privacy whenever we wanted it, and I’ll be able to cultivate other relationships much more easily because I’ll have a place we can go when we wanna fuck.

So I’m tentatively thinking of mentally reframing this thing with The Dandy as a domestic partnership type deal rather than a romantic relationship. The Dandy and Dandette and I can be a team, looking after each other and forming a good working household unit. I could see The Dandy’s cuddles and hugs as a nice bonus to our comfy roommate arrangement, rather than hoping for passion and finding the hugs to be a pale substitute. I can get passion elsewhere. Passion tends to be unstable, anyway; I’d be afraid of building a live-in relationship on it.

Incidentally, I talked to Dandette this morning and she confirms that with her, The Dandy was super excited and sucking up to win her favour in the beginning, moved her in almost immediately, and then quickly subsided into taking her almost completely for granted and ignoring her most nights in favour of the internet. So I figure his ignoring me all the time in favour of the internet lately isn’t a phase or a fluke, just the new order of things. So yeah. I need to adjust accordingly.

I guess my big fear is that if I stop thinking of The Dandy in a romantic way, I won’t be too interested in having sex with him anymore. The sex frankly wasn’t/isn’t good enough in and of itself to be particularly compelling to me; I need to want to feel close to The Dandy for it to be worthwhile. Or just ridiculously horny to a point where even “he’s gonna thrust mechanically into my vagina til he comes and then perfunctorily get me off without looking me whatsoever during any of this” sex would scratch my itch.

And if his apparent disinterest in sex turns out to just be a phase, and I’m turning him down all the time, he may sense that the relationship is not going particularly well, and break up with me – after which he might expect me to leave.. I mean, maybe he’d keep me here anyway. He did with Dandette. But Dandette is a lot more fragile and incapable of surviving on her than I am (at least it seems that way), and she adds more to the household.

So…hmmm.

 

*I recently learned that a local school that gives me a lot of work might be about to go under. I was angsting to The Dandy about this, and just generally raging at how the freelance nature of my job is so insecure and mutable, and he said “Well, look on the bright side: if it does happen, rent will be lower.” I was confused. “I…rent for what? What does this school closing have to do with anyone’s rent?” and it turned out that was his extremely weird and roundabout way of saying “Don’t worry, if your finances get yanked out from under you it’s okay for you to pay less rent here until you get back on your feet. I’ll cover you.”

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