Mmm

There is something to be said for taking it slow.

It’s sort of surreal how incredible it feels to be with J. We just get along so incredibly well. He’s smart and curious about the world and fun and sweet and we have so much to talk about. He’s also gone through the process of losing himself to someone else, and getting out on the other end realising that he needs to be whole and happy in and of himself. And that’s what I strive toward.

Last night he told me that he doesn’t expect me to drop my life to make extra time to be with him. “Two people, not one.”

How is it that he dropped into my life just now?

This past weekend was pretty awesome. It was an epicurean frenzy. Kaizen: eating sushi, oysters, drinking incredible wines, then on to Joe Beef on Friday: more wine, more incredible and sumptuous rich food. My boys. Good friends. It was unreal. I slept over at C’s house on Thursday and Friday, and while I had been oblivious to his interest (or had been ignoring it, more likely), he started making it a little clearer that he really does like me as more than just a friend. It was his birthday on Sunday, and I went to his house for a barbecue, which was a lot of fun. Ribs and wine and cigarettes and lots of silliness. He kissed me when I went to say goodnight. I let him. Yesterday he thanked me for everything. We did have a really great weekend together. I need to be careful now. He knows about J, and the yoga instructor. I love hanging out with him. I just need to be careful about letting him know that I really enjoy the time I spend with him but that I don’t want to get romantically involved. No boyfriends for the moment. Especially considering how busy I am with everything in my life right now. Plus, I don’t really feel physically attracted to him. There are different people and different connections.

And then there was Saturday. I went to yoga from C’s house early in the morning. Fantastic. A picnic was planned. I was excited. We had been talking about it all week. After spending time together on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday (was it really three days in a row?) we were definitely anticipating a pretty incredible day together.

I locked my keys in the house. So the bike ride up to the Marche Jean-Talon turned into a walk. The picnic turned into a day of wandering around, or talking, connecting, joking, feeling totally at ease, lying on the grass chatting until the sun went down. Then back to his place, more eating. I passed out watching Planet Earth. I slept over, as of course I had to due to the fact that I had locked my keys in my house. We talked. I had worried a little that we weren’t going to connect physically. I felt at ease with him but not insanely turned on. But then we kissed. It was amazing. He’s just like me … a total tease. And he loves touching, contact, tickling, kissing all over. I get shivers just thinking about it.

And last night I went over again. Delicious dinner (doesn’t hurt that he’s a chef), then a joint and chilling on his bed. Talking. Touching. The connection is mad. He continually surprises me with more things that just gel. It’s kind of nuts. I’ve never had anything that has felt this natural this quickly.

A new idea

It’s a interesting new situation. Actually, it’s the first time in my life that my interest in someone has been preceded by a “don’t go there” from a friend whose opinion I value above most others. But still, I can’t help feeling that he’s wrong. Consider the fact that he won’t actually tell me why I shouldn’t go there, and you have a girl who is both confused and willing to prove someone wrong.

This bad idea apparently isn’t such a bad idea. Yet the fact that the guy in question is an old friend and roommate of my good friend means that the idea (which seems good to me) has me conflicted. I don’t want to lose a good friend over something that might be better left undone. But I can’t see that that’s the case.

We spent yesterday wandering around the city. We went to the Jean Talon Market, picked up some delicious picnicables and wandered back down to the park where we ate and chilled out and generally had a blissful time. We’ve been getting to know one another over joints and meals and online chatting sessions, and regardless of how incredibly different we are, that is, how different our backgrounds are, we still have more in common than anyone else I’ve met in years. And this has thrown me. I am at ease with him even though we’ve only known one another for a few months. It feels good. It feels natural. It doesn’t feel like something that is bound to end in hurt and disaster. We have already taken it far enough that feelings are involved. There’s no walking away now without pain for one or both of us. There are reasons why I can see that this could be dangerous. There are things about both of us that can and probably will create conflict or hurt at some stage. But these are the risks that we take in putting ourselves out there.

I am afraid of liking him too much. It worries me that this isn’t a matter of someone I can just spend a little time with, no strings attached, and see how it goes. I already have ideas in my mind of future time together. It’s not because I have a romantic vision of some rosy future, but rather that the way we are together, the things we have to talk about, make me think that there’s more that a possibility of a love affair, but a solid friendship that could outlast the passion that comes in the early stages of anything. 

And yet I feel like I child because my good friend, his good friend, doesn’t think we should go there. It’s like my dad is telling me that I shouldn’t do something, that it’s for my own good that I shouldn’t do it, but he’s not going to tell me why. Apparently there are things that are better left unsaid, but I’m never a big proponent of that because of the way my imagination works. Things left unsaid become great big voids, huge spaces that grow between people and fester and spread. And the “I told you so” that inevitably comes later, the “I told you not to go there” when things fuck up, won’t help anything if I never know what the reason behind this is. 

I haven’t spent a night in someone’s bed, completely sober, completely comfortable and excited and willing to be there in ages. The last time this happened it was lust. It was blind and passionate and terrifying and left me a wreck for months. I can’t see this happening here. I won’t rush into anything. I won’t let things get out of hand. Or at least I hope I won’t. 

Summer love

It’s been ages. Funny thing: I’ve been really happy so I haven’t felt the need to write. I’ve been so busy on top of it, that finding the time to write has been another thing unto itself. And as I haven’t felt the need to get anything off my chest, to mull over, to analyse, I haven’t really felt any urgent need to spit it all out on this rather bizarre but lovely pubic forum.

Why so happy? You may ask. I seem to have figured it out. I don’t have any negative stress in my life at this moment (knock on wood!). I’m insanely busy, what between my internship at PMA and the film and video class and working on this costume project, and going to yoga, and researching for Israel, and writing my screenplay. And that’s just work. Then there’s my personal life which is really enjoyable at present. I’ve managed to shift my focus toward people who smoke pot. There’s my yoga instructor, with whom I have been spending a little time, enjoying food, conversation, joints and one another’s bodies. Hyper-sensual pleasure. I spent the other night with him, and it was just blissful.

Then there’s the friend of a friend with whom I’ve been spending a bit of time. Platonically. Although there may be something there. I like him a lot. I know that he likes me. That he likes me likes me. I’m not sure that pursuing this is necessarily a good idea, but I would like to spend time with him nonetheless. The friend warned me against it. Warned us. Told him that I’m trouble; told me that he has baggage, that I shouldn’t go there. But we all have baggage, and rather contradictorily, his telling me not to go there just makes it more enticing. Thing is, going there would be on a par with not really going there, because I’m not about to hop into anything serious with anyone.

Someone told me that summer is the time for lovers. I think I’ll agree with that. Love and happiness. That’s what I’m after.

Back after some thought… and other stuff…

I’m still trying to figure out the concept that because I wasn’t particularly interested in the hot yoga instructor, this made it seem an even better idea for me to sleep with him. Physical craving is a powerful thing. What’s funny is that although I was attracted to him in a sort of objective “wow, he has a great body” kind of way, he definitely wasn’t sending particularly sexual energy in my direction. The most obvious advance that he made was asking if he could kiss me. From there it went the way it did. It was fun, it was great. He’s a really good kisser, and I’m an extremely sensual person. The inner monologue, the voices, simply switched off and allowed me to enjoy sensual pleasure. Mmm…

Last night my lovely yet slightly angst-ridden friend came over for dinner. It was a delightful last minute affair — I had food, she brought wine. We sat and talked for hours, and then after all, we started kissing, and things progressed in the most gorgeous way. Her skin is beautiful. I’ve been attracted to her for months, thinking about when we would possibly cross that line, sort of knowing that it would happen eventually. It is another illustration of how beautiful it is to be with women I care about. The possessiveness doesn’t exist. The night simply is. It’s beautiful, it’s about pleasure. It’s so simple. Yet it’s practically impossible to replicate when it comes to men. Or at least it has been for me.

What is it that drives our bodies? I feel as though I have flicked a switch. I hadn’t had sex in about six weeks. I was feeling rather pleased with my ability to keep my panties on. I had also stopped thinking about it as much. Yet at soon as the drought ends, as soon as I get a taste, it’s all that I can think of. Enjoyable sexual and sensual pleasure. The yoga instructor was fantastic, my friend was wonderful. Stroking, and tickling and touching. Extreme sensation. Heightened by substances, yes, but beautiful nonetheless.

I am still determined to find a way to enjoy a physical relationship with someone and not let it get complicated and imbalanced. I’m not sure how possible this is, although I would really like to try. I have half a mind to send the yoga guy a message asking him what he thinks about going there again in a sort of fun, no strings attached kind of way. I can’t guarantee that feelings won’t develop, but if we’re honest about how we feel and what’s going on, then where’s the harm? Maybe I’ll begin drafting that now.

I am still enjoying a few days’ peace before the havoc begins. The next six weeks are going to be manic.