Rather than go though the whole introduction thing, I decided to jump right here because more than anything I need to tell this story and get feedback on it as soon as possible. But still, some stuff about me:
I'm 35, a student (english major), in the US, and I live for horror movies and music. Crazy extreme metal mostly, but more than anything else I adore the Cure. And obscure, mopey, psychedelic late 80s-early-90s shoegaze and Britpop. I would also like to apologize in advance for the plethora of naughty words. It's the way I "talk", and nothing can be held back here, so I'm cutting loose.
So here's the story: I have a wonderful friend. A beautiful friend. My "dreamgirl", actually. With complete unsarcastic sincerity we call eachother "Prince" and "Princess". She makes me feel cared for, warm, safe, and wow even attractive sometimes. And to me, in my private galaxy and heart, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known. That's no bullshit, either. I sound cheesy when I say things like that, but I absolutely mean it! I say lots of silly romantic things to her, and I proabably sound ridiculous, but I never hold them back because I love drowning her in pretty words and she deserves them. We have been close for a little over a decade, and are hopelessly drowning in a thirsty need for eachother. Our connection is almost supernatural and thicker than the richest yummiest caramel. But here comes curveball #1. She lives in England, I'm in America. We have never met (although we've seen pictures of eachother...my heart stops and my lungs collapse every time I see a new one). Yes, it's one of those relationships.
But I don't give a fuck, because I believe in what we are and how we feel about eachother. I believe in all the years we've spent talking and bonding and pining. I have mad and blissful faith in the need I have for her and the tinglies I get in my stomach when we talk (yes, even after a decade). I love this woman as much as a human being in a situation like this possibly could. No, fuck that, my adoration for her blasts lightspeed past even that. Curveball #2: she's married. Curveball #2.5: she has children. She has expressed a tremendous amount of dissatisfaction and emotional greyness reguarding her husband, and for around two years now she's been separated from him. In fact, two springs ago, she even asked me if she could finally, at long last, have the honor of calling me her "boyfriend". Absolutely she could!! I walked on air for days after than conversation.
Fuck! This is so complicated. I see pinwheels just looking at the screen and trying to write this. I know the cynicism of the whole "long distance" thing, but I don't buy into it. If you want to be with a person, you fucking get to them somehow someday and you be with them.
right?
There are so many obstacles. Do I eventually move to England, or does she move here? I would take every connection I have to my current life and sever them all with a butter knife and fucking swin to England if I could, but I can't. Due to health reasons, which is a whole other set of curveballs. Whole other sport, actually. And it would be terribly difficult for her to move here for obvious and understandable reasons. There are so many details here that I am leaving out. It's totally by accident because I'm writing this as quickly as possible and I'm cold and very nervous. I'm sure in future posts other important details will come up.
Anyway, for the past year-or-so, she's been doing something a tad disquieting. She disappears. For, like, a month or more. I've been patient and understanding with that (although not talking to her and not knowing fucking shit about what's going on turns me into a walking bleeding exposed nerve). I've been getting a bit emotional and weird about it lately, but on the whole we have never had any grand battles about it.
...(thinks)...
I mean, this is fucking hardcore life stuff! She has asked me in the past how I would feel about children (hers? awesome! our possible future ones? dream come true, I adore seedlings!). She has discussed future possible marriage scenarios, and even picked out a to-die-for dress.
(Swoons) My princess....a woman I genuinely love with more passion than I ever have for any other girl I actually touched.
Then a few days ago, after another long absence, she appeared. I was a bit hostile, I couldn't help it. She said she had something to tell me. Something she has been thinking about for ages, and she was afraid to tell me because she thought I would hate her. What?!?! Hate her? There is nothing that she could do that would ever make me hate her. I mean that. When there is a love as strong and powerful as ours, nothing could even crack it.
Then she told me she was polyamorous.
I'm taking a break. I want candy. I need to start writing a research paper for my medieval lit class too. But I'll be back in a short while to continue/conclude.
I hope I'm treated well here...
I'm 35, a student (english major), in the US, and I live for horror movies and music. Crazy extreme metal mostly, but more than anything else I adore the Cure. And obscure, mopey, psychedelic late 80s-early-90s shoegaze and Britpop. I would also like to apologize in advance for the plethora of naughty words. It's the way I "talk", and nothing can be held back here, so I'm cutting loose.
So here's the story: I have a wonderful friend. A beautiful friend. My "dreamgirl", actually. With complete unsarcastic sincerity we call eachother "Prince" and "Princess". She makes me feel cared for, warm, safe, and wow even attractive sometimes. And to me, in my private galaxy and heart, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known. That's no bullshit, either. I sound cheesy when I say things like that, but I absolutely mean it! I say lots of silly romantic things to her, and I proabably sound ridiculous, but I never hold them back because I love drowning her in pretty words and she deserves them. We have been close for a little over a decade, and are hopelessly drowning in a thirsty need for eachother. Our connection is almost supernatural and thicker than the richest yummiest caramel. But here comes curveball #1. She lives in England, I'm in America. We have never met (although we've seen pictures of eachother...my heart stops and my lungs collapse every time I see a new one). Yes, it's one of those relationships.
But I don't give a fuck, because I believe in what we are and how we feel about eachother. I believe in all the years we've spent talking and bonding and pining. I have mad and blissful faith in the need I have for her and the tinglies I get in my stomach when we talk (yes, even after a decade). I love this woman as much as a human being in a situation like this possibly could. No, fuck that, my adoration for her blasts lightspeed past even that. Curveball #2: she's married. Curveball #2.5: she has children. She has expressed a tremendous amount of dissatisfaction and emotional greyness reguarding her husband, and for around two years now she's been separated from him. In fact, two springs ago, she even asked me if she could finally, at long last, have the honor of calling me her "boyfriend". Absolutely she could!! I walked on air for days after than conversation.
Fuck! This is so complicated. I see pinwheels just looking at the screen and trying to write this. I know the cynicism of the whole "long distance" thing, but I don't buy into it. If you want to be with a person, you fucking get to them somehow someday and you be with them.
right?
There are so many obstacles. Do I eventually move to England, or does she move here? I would take every connection I have to my current life and sever them all with a butter knife and fucking swin to England if I could, but I can't. Due to health reasons, which is a whole other set of curveballs. Whole other sport, actually. And it would be terribly difficult for her to move here for obvious and understandable reasons. There are so many details here that I am leaving out. It's totally by accident because I'm writing this as quickly as possible and I'm cold and very nervous. I'm sure in future posts other important details will come up.
Anyway, for the past year-or-so, she's been doing something a tad disquieting. She disappears. For, like, a month or more. I've been patient and understanding with that (although not talking to her and not knowing fucking shit about what's going on turns me into a walking bleeding exposed nerve). I've been getting a bit emotional and weird about it lately, but on the whole we have never had any grand battles about it.
...(thinks)...
I mean, this is fucking hardcore life stuff! She has asked me in the past how I would feel about children (hers? awesome! our possible future ones? dream come true, I adore seedlings!). She has discussed future possible marriage scenarios, and even picked out a to-die-for dress.
(Swoons) My princess....a woman I genuinely love with more passion than I ever have for any other girl I actually touched.
Then a few days ago, after another long absence, she appeared. I was a bit hostile, I couldn't help it. She said she had something to tell me. Something she has been thinking about for ages, and she was afraid to tell me because she thought I would hate her. What?!?! Hate her? There is nothing that she could do that would ever make me hate her. I mean that. When there is a love as strong and powerful as ours, nothing could even crack it.
Then she told me she was polyamorous.
I'm taking a break. I want candy. I need to start writing a research paper for my medieval lit class too. But I'll be back in a short while to continue/conclude.
I hope I'm treated well here...