warning: this gets kind of horny

I’m feeling stuff so I’m going to write about it.

First things first, I have a girlfriend: K. I don’t know why that word feels scary to write when it’s true. She is the coolest person ever. A sensitive and curious artist. Extremely hot. Fun. Communicative. Adjectives. I feel incredibly lucky, and that scares me, so I try not to think about it like that. More on that later, I’m sure.

We are kind of open. We’ve gone to queer sex parties; I watched her zap a line full of curious people one-by-one with an electric wand (it was awesome). I told her that sometimes I hook up with men and she was okay with it, “as long as you don’t feel used afterwards.”

I also told her that deep down I’m really submissive. She got me a little leather collar that is on its way soon (taking a while to be constructed). Huff. She is the best.

Relationships and commitment scare me but I’m also just feeling flooded with how much I like her.

She’s mentioned wanting to try out being a professional Domme. That it would be really fun and fulfilling to help people actualize their fantasies. People are beautiful and complicated.

One of her friends is a trans woman with a fantasy about being pregnant. She is currently having dinner at K’s house. It’s a friend hangout but also kind of a date. K has played along with this woman’s fantasies before, telling her things like how she wants to impregnate her and take care of her, that kind of thing. They are going to make soup tonight. K’s focus can be really intense and I know this is why she hasn’t texted me.

I feel okay about her doing this with this person, but I’m finding that the not-hearing-from-her thing is not fun. But I’m dancing around my apartment doing chores and trying to keep occupied in the meantime.

…this includes reading a super-horny book by Anne Rice and texting men. [covers face with hand]

There are three men that I talk to, and lately I’ve felt weird about seeing them so I’m basically acting like a cock-tease at this point. But then I had a breakthrough fantasy today: that when I’m with them and making them feel good, K is in the background whispering approvingly in my ear. Or she’s trained me so well that somehow pleasing men is still coming back around to pleasing her. Or… something. *fans self* Is it hot in here?!

I don’t really know anyone who won’t think I’m a complete slut weirdo if I tell them all this, so I’m writing it down here. Thank you for joining me while I make sense of my own brain.

woopsie

Bonjour, I have Covid.

Wow what a wild and fun time to be alive.

Am I even allowed to write that? Is someone going to censor me for saying that? I’ve had my shots. But this new one is really contagious so I got it. I also had it right when this whole thing started. That first time was a lot scarier. This time I mostly just kind of feel like I’m high.

Earlier I was meandering around my apartment and tidying up. Because if I don’t, no one else is going to. While I was tidying up, I was dancing a little. Even though I was a little dizzy.

But then it hit me how strange it was that *no one* could come into this space and see me right now. How this silly and innocuous little scene was completely closed off from the rest of world (and honestly, it would have been anyway). But now I was officially Sick. So it was closed off for the sake of public safety, not just privacy. That made it feel a little heavier.

I took two tests and both of them had two angry red lines, pretty much instantly. I thought about making a joke that woops, I’d accidentally bought a pregnancy test instead. But I didn’t.

It hasn’t really been all that dramatic. My parents sent me comfort food groceries and I have been playing video games and watching TV all day. I feel loopy and feverish but I’m okay. It’s hot as fuck outside and everything is so weird but I am okay. I feel tired and wired but also okay.

it’ll feel so good when you jump in

Veil thins and teal dye tempts.

Remind the world that you’re a mermaid.

 

The tease of dreaminess. 

Lose yourself but be careful.

 

On dates with her, adventure tends to bubble.

The coffeeshop is closed but we sneak in anyway.

There’s an event.

They give us free drinks

As if we signed up for any of this.

 

Or we’re in a bar that doubles as an old-world wax museum.

She takes pictures of me but the backgrounds are grotesque.

The bartender apologizes for something and she compliments his apron.

He blurts out that we’re both sexy.

I laugh but mostly I just feel dizzy.

 

I get anxious over lonely nightmares and dreams coming true.

I’m not always sure what my dreams even are.

 

A tidal wave of iridescent bliss hits my imagination

And I worry that I’ll miss it

Or not take correct advantage of it.

 

The mermaid sees the wave and dives into it.

Without fear, without thought

Just warm water and sunlight

Moving her body as it was always meant to move

Pleasure without overthink.

 

If you let yourself get swept up

You will not drown

As long as you remember to breathe.

the truth of things

Last night got intense.

I watched something extremely stressful before bed and had a rough time sleeping.

In reality that’s all that happened. But “tossing and turning” is too cute to describe what it was: endless panicked thoughts that wouldn’t ease, even with meditating. Flashing worries that every single component of life was being lived incorrectly. Even though that’s not true. Even though yes, of course meditation helped. But where was that instant hit of bliss. Why isn’t it like that. Why is it actually something so much deeper and more subtle.

Why does it make you work for it so hard and not at all. Why do we make ourselves panic when nothing is there. Or maybe that’s just me.

The morning had a completely different mood than the night. It was so much more innocent. Watched a friend’s dog. She lives in my neighborhood, a few streets over. Her dog is sweet and ugly-to-the-point-of-cute. He never left my lap except to go on walks.

It was such a simple shift, being in a space like my own but not mine. Curled up with a little friend. How is that all it takes to feel completely different. It’s how we’re wired I guess.

Over and over we face that cold lonely terror at night. And every time we try to remember that love, warmth, coziness are alchemizing forces against it. Sometimes we remember and sometimes we don’t. But that doesn’t take away the truth of things.

all over the place

My neighbor’s lonely cat yowled constantly for almost an entire week straight. Its crying got longer and sadder until I worried it might be dying. There was a call to animal control. And then a sudden reappearance of the owner.

There was water on my bathroom floor and a constant drip-drip-drip I couldn’t stop. The sound made me feel insane. An extremely gentle plumber came and compared a toilet to a body that needs to be taken care of and nourished, you can’t just expect it to get to 75 years on its own.

There was waking up in the dark, terrified and not knowing what I’m doing. Feeling like I’m not living correctly because I don’t have a partner. But do I? Do I need to know what I’m doing? Does anybody know what they’re doing?

Nobody answers me. There’s just darkness and my own anxiety.

Also, taxes.

I write plays. They were why I moved to New York. On good days, they feel like they are why I’m alive. On bad days, I don’t think they’re very good. On pandemic days, they didn’t even exist. But I wrote a play in lockdown, so I could at least pretend to have voices to listen to.

So now Mercury is not retrograde anymore. Theater exists again. And I am flirting with the idea of sending the play I wrote to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Which would be terrifying. And an adventure. And me making theater again. Just….. in Scotland this time.

Friends smile and say “you should do it!!” And I know they mean well, but if I’m being honest it all makes me want to cry or scream or hide somewhere. But then, you know, I’d wake up in the darkness of my hiding place and freak out over not spending my life correctly.

So, it’s a lot.

Someone get this woman an edible. Stat.

where my thoughts go

Spending time with you makes me want to dream and listen to sad music afterwards. Take long walks, stare out the window, burrow into the inner world, where everything feels sweeter and easier to sit with. In that inner world I can remember your hair falling into your eyes. How you look when you’re asleep. The tiny starburst that went off in my heart when you said you’d been thinking about me.

I was in a car, going to dinner. We drove by your neighborhood and I whispered your name.

Hours later, you were slipping a finger into my shirt and pulling me closer. You were standing over me and kissing me with your hands on my face. I was sitting, arching my back, my mouth reaching hungrily for yours. Mind just crying please, yes please, I can’t believe this fantasy is real.

Maybe if I lie still in that inner world, I could write something that would connect with and move you. You who are so public. You who the world is trying to move. You who have built such a shiny persona to mask the deeply quiet well in your heart. You who will not actually read this.

secretly soft heart

When I texted you last night, I wasn’t thinking I was going to see you. But it would be a lie to say I hadn’t missed you.

I walked into my apartment after dinner with a friend, just as you were asking me to come over and have a drink. I ordinarily would not be so impulsive. But it was you.

Next thing I know, I’m in your apartment again and you are making me a cocktail with a clever name. You are deeply shy, and I think that’s beautiful. Sometimes you stared off and got quiet. Your eyes looked like they were a thousand miles from here. A lot of heavy had happened for you recently.

You also love to buzz about and describe things, pull out bottles with elegant shapes and difficult-to-pronounce names. While you were explaining one of them, you poured a little onto your palm and held it in front of me.

“Am I… smelling this?”

“No,” you said, “you’re licking it.”

And I sure did.

I told you later that when you did that, it turned me on so much that I would have let you throw me onto your kitchen counter and fuck me while I licked your fingers.

Instead we fucked in your bed, for four hours. And then you let me sleep over. You slept with your arms wrapped around me. I barely slept.

Which might have something to do with why I’m so tired now that I could cry.

Today marks the first time I slept with two different people in 24 hours. It’s also a day where someone else dumped me and made me feel like shit, even though I wasn’t even that interested.

So, you know. This whole thing is a lot. I don’t really know what I’m doing. You put your heart and body out there wanting to connect with people. And you do, and it feels wonderful. And you don’t, and it breaks your secretly soft heart.

winter still

There’s always hope.

I read a quote the other day. Life has been gifted to you, and gifts don’t need to be used efficiently – they just need to be treasured.

Those words take the edge off for me. A little less anxiety about it going away.

Yesterday I sat and listened to my radiator slowly hiss on and off. I whispered “thank you for all this” over and over to… something. My hands tingled and felt light, all while thoughts hummed like moving wallpaper in the back of my mind. Once it was finally silent I opened my eyes and an hour had passed. Things felt happy, calm, clear.

Today I don’t really feel like that. I’m sleepwalking into a cold sunny morning to get my coffee, perform my tasks, try not to think about you.

I don’t know. Just doing our best.

morning

It’s morning and it’s quiet and I’m here.

The sun slowly warming up the chilly sky.

A line of geese flying over the house with purpose.

My body doesn’t exactly ache, but it pulses dully like it has gone through something.

My heart is a big tangle of several different feelings.

I guess the longer you are alive, the more you have to sit with the painful and heavy and strange. But I’d love for that stuff to stop sitting on us all so persistently.

Maybe we can start something new from here. Maybe we can learn how to feel better. When I figure it out I’ll let you know.