A boy

It had been three years; it wasn’t earth shattering, it wasn’t a big deal. He was nice, intelligent, had a high earning potential. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark curly hair with glasses. Queer minded. The kind of man I like. Except he was timid. I’ve become used to being the pursuer – it’d be a long lonely lesbian life if I was unwilling to pursue. But if I’m to be with (in the biblical sense) a man, I don’t want to pursue as hard. 

I shouldn’t complain. He was safe, and maybe that’s why I liked him so quickly. I felt comfortable being the aggressor because he was a man. I would never have been so aggressive with a woman so quickly for fear I was pushing something on her she didn’t want. I knew he could throw me off if he wanted, so I wasn’t afraid of that. Maybe that’s sexist, maybe it’s just common sense. I’m really not sure. 

He had nice lips, a good kisser. Hair to run my fingers through. I mostly just wanted him to lesbian fuck me. No real desire to touch his penis. My straight friend says she feels this way for a while with a new man. I slept with him anyway.  It was awkward, as first times with new partners usually are. I didn’t like his surprise dirty talk. I didn’t like the lack of chemistry. I didn’t like his passive demeanor. I quickly grew tired of being the aggressor.

A few weeks and a bad date later I brought him home again. I liked him, wished he fit my needs a little better. Just wanted to make out, and we did. It was nice. Then he told me he had missed me and I pulled all of me away.

I didn’t see him again. 

He would have been sweet to me. He would have been kind and gentle. He might have even loved me if I had let him.

I don’t want a man’s love. I want dirty, rough, throw-me-down sex with a safe, attractive, intelligent man.  I’ve loved men before, but my current queerness is shifted again. I enjoy the attention of men, but I worship women. Women make me crazy, women can hurt me, I want dirty sex with women too, but I want to cook dinner for them and take dancing lessons with them and marry one someday. All I want with a man is a mutual respect and understanding that we’re using each other for our bodies for a little while. 

Bad Decisions

One night, several months ago

She danced closer to me than she knew she should. Each time our arms went a little further around the other. An abrupt parting when a group of women walked by – what if one of them was her? But none of them were, so she put her arms around me again, back in rhythm, laughing about something. When she finally arrived, I got ignored. Home alone in bed, I felt as confused as I had the past couple times this happened. We were friends and there were so many reasons I shouldn’t feel anything about her.  Her neuroticisms, strange love for her dog, our mutual close friend, my best friend. Such good reasons to not go beyond friendship. Maybe it’s just been too long since I made a bad decision knowingly. Maybe it’s just comfortable.

One night, this weekend:

I was annoyed when she texted me that the girl she was dating broke up with her – why should I care anyway? I was trying to keep my distance, and doing a good job. We talk occasionally, but she’s still the same selfish immature girl, even if I did love her. Blake, that is. She is working on things and I am so glad because I care about her, but I don’t want to get back with her. I just wanted to hold her. I texted her something dumb, something about what I should eat for dinner. She texted me asking if she could come over. Of course. We watched tv. I made dinner. She put her head on my shoulder. I put my head on her chest. She put her head in my lap. She asked to stay on my couch. I gave her a toothbrush. I invited her to my bed. We slept, I held her. It’s ok though, because I feel in control of the situation, in control of my feelings. It’s ok, right?

Power lesbians

A similar crowd is found within the queer party scene I frequent, and among them those self-appointed power lesbian group.  The party girl, the philanthropist, the artist, the lawyer, the musician, the gender queerbie. They seemed to know everyone, and when I was I much newer to this scene, this group seduced me. I wanted to be seen and known and accepted into the inner circle.  The closer I got, though, the more I realized how  they’re mostly like this: 

Ms. lawyer was working on a charity project outside of work and was recruiting some extra help. Through a friend, I heard about it and got involved – it was a good project.  I was working on her social media strategizing and working on the website design.  We recently had a disagreement that went something like this:

Me - “Dear Ms. Lawyer, I think what you’re doing is awesome.  Since we hadn’t had a conversation about this, I was unaware you were going to publish what I sent you.  Please let me know when you’re going to use my designs before publishing them in the future. I’m so glad to be a part of this project, keep up the good work!”

Her – “Dear LL, my project is pretty amazing, and a lot of people think so, and a lot of people are working on it, so if you don’t want to be involved, just let me know ASAP.”

Me – “Dear Ms. Lawyer, like I said, I really am happy to be a part of your social action project, it’s super fantastic, and I’m glad it’s so successful. Just a heads up would be nice!”

Her – takes down my designs without any further conversation

I am constantly amazed by the willingness of adults to act like petulant children whose toys are taken away when receiving any kind of criticism.  I actually do think what she’s doing is awesome and important, and I was, in fact, happy to be a part of it.   The passive aggressive response surprised me, especially since I don’t know her well and was interacting on a mostly professional level.  As someone in professional graduate school, I don’t quite understand how people get away with such unprofessional behavior. I mean, she is a lawyer, I would think she would need to be better behaved.  Maybe I’ve been so well indoctrinated with the value of receiving constructive criticism; I’m unaware of how many people find it offensive? I’m glad to be distanced from it though. If I can’t make a suggestion or a request without igniting some wicked insecurities that are not my problem, I will quietly make my exit now.  

Coming back

Hey homos, queerbies, gayelles, pansexuals, dykes, and everyone else. I'm back. Grad school got crazy, my relationship ended (then didn't, then did - you know, in true dyke style), and well I've missed writing. I want to do better reaching out and hearing from you!

Here are my (g)a(y)dventures...