The Best Life Yet

Things are rolling along. I have my first appointment with the new therapist in a few hours. My car is in the shop, so I have to ride my bike over there. That should be nice and sweaty in this August weather.

Last night, Rider and I went to our friend's battle of the bands. They didn't win, but we still had fun. I took a selfie with our friend who is the girlfriend of the guy in the band and posted it on Instagram. Beckett is her friend on Instagram too, so he "liked" it and said "Too much hot in one pic." I squeed myself silly, and Rider laughed at me.

When we got back, I went on a long phone walkabout talking to Oona. It was fun. I sipped wine from a water bottle and she smoked pot and it was like we were partying together but from almost 3,000 miles away. We talked about all sorts of things. I won't get to speak to her again until she is back from Europe on the 23rd.

After I was done talking to her, I went back to Rider's place. I didn't realize until I stopped walking how drunk I had become! It was kind of lol-worthy. I had some sexytimes with Rider and then he made me drink a big glass of water before going to sleep.

I still woke up feeling a little rough, though. I think I am going to take a drinking sabbatical for a couple of weeks and detox ye olde liver. I always feel refreshed after doing that. It'll also lower my tolerance so that I spend less money in the resort town we are traveling to for my planned proposal. And it'll be easy to stick to the weekend after this coming one, because my plans that weekend are a baby shower and then hanging with Beckett, who doesn't drink. Pregnant ladies and other non-drinking companions are perfect company during a break from booze.

Things are going well with Beckett. I sent him a (clothed) selfie that I took while lying in Rider's bed while Rider was in the shower. In the morning, he returned fire with a selfie he took in the driver's seat on his way to work. He chameleons really well, going from respectable businessman by day to foxy gothling by night flawlessly. We exchanged some texts back and forth, flirting and joking.

I actually dreamed about him last night, a sex dream. It's really rare that I have sex dreams, and even rarer that they are about people I know. In the dream, I was having unprotected sex with him and feeling a little guilty because I knew I wasn't supposed to, but once we started, I was like "fuck it, I've already broken the rule" and just went with it. This is remarkable because usually that's the reason that sex DOESN'T happen in my dreams: there is no condom around and even dream-me wouldn't do that to Rider. Even dream-me is usually conscientious and good. I guess we can't help what we dream, though. Beyond the guilt, it was a smokingly hot dream, and it made me hungry for the reality (but without the transgression). I just want to be rolling around with him again, my chest to his.

This weekend, Rider and I are going to visit Sam. Rider doesn't believe that I can abstain from alcohol while visiting College Town. When we are there, it's usually one big party. Of course that just makes me want to prove myself. *I* know I can do it, no problem, because I have excellent willpower when I put my mind to it. I am not sure what, if anything, will happen between Sam and me while I am there. But then, I am never sure with him. It will probably be nothing, because I expect I'll be bleeding by then. It's always fun to hang out with him, though. He makes me smile.

I feel so incredibly lucky right now. I have Rider, who is my very heart, as a side-by-side companion in this life. And somehow, luckily, miraculously, my amazing connection with Rider has a space allowance in it that permits me to indulge the casual thing that I have with Sam, who is one of the sweetest guys ever, and to explore the lightning-strike I've found with Beckett, who is one of the hottest guys I've ever seen in real life.

I am pretty stoked that after a year and a half of poly being mostly various types of debacles for me—bad first dates, lackluster sex with people I'd been excited about, metamour drama, scheduling snafus, breakups and near breakups, coming face to face with the green-eyed monster, FWBs who turn out to be jerks, etc.—I finally have something that seems to be going well and that I can get genuinely excited about. Yes, it's almost just in time for moving out of town, but it gives me a little carrot to drive me along—a little motivation that I am on this path for some reason other than just hypothetical freedom and trying to learn compersion. My life, it is good. Busy, but good.

MightyMax said:

What I meant by "person they have sex with" is their sexual partner in the general sense. Not sexual partner right now. From what I understood, Kelly (and other partners) have to understand that you and Rider sleeping together (when everyone is together) is the default. Other arrangements may be made but they should expect to not be sharing a bed with Rider on a joint visit unless it's explicitly specified by the two of you. You explained that this is something you both want and it's reflective of how you both feel rather than something you've constructed.

All I was pointing out is that those kind of arrangements which start to veer towards a more mononormative relationship style come with consequences. Saturation is one of those consequences.

Click to expand...

Thanks for clarifying. It seems like saturation shouldn't necessarily follow from the other factors in the arrangement. Like it could, but it needn't. The various factors seem like they should be able to operate independently. In this case, it's all just a time thing. I wish I didn't have to work—or that days were twice as long! There are pretty much unlimited things that I'd like to do with Rider, and we never seem to get to do half of them. But I am really looking forward to being able to see Beckett here and there, as well. We're both super busy, but I do believe he's worth the time and effort it will take to figure out a way to make it happen—even if it's not as frequent as I might like. It might take some trial and error to discover how to do it without spinning everything out of control and burning me out, but most things have seemed to require similar experimentation.

My first appointment with the therapist went well. He is indeed poly friendly, a man probably in his late sixties or early seventies who I am pretty sure is gay. Coincidentally, he was born in my hometown and also lived a while in the city I lived in right after graduating high school—the city I'm moving back to on Opposite Coast. We mostly just covered background stuff, but so far, so good. I have another appointment scheduled in two weeks.

Another interesting turn of events: last night, Rider and I were at our friends' house (Shana and Al, the friends we hang out with and play music sometimes, and it was Al's band we went to see the other day). Shana and I were discussing her upcoming birthday party, which falls on the night of the same day when I have my next date with Beckett. Shana said that Beckett had already told her that he'd be there. Rider and I were also obviously invited. (As was Claire, but she probably won't attend if she knows Rider and I will be there.)

All of those people are sort of part of the goth/fetish scene in our town, so it's not terribly surprising to me that they all know each other, but I didn't know that Shana and Beckett knew each other to a birthday party invite degree. It does seem like a funny coincidence to me that a few short weeks after we had our first date, we'd have been thrown together at a party no matter what. I guess if I hadn't met him at that fetish party in May, her birthday would have been our first meeting. I suppose we were destined to meet at some point.

I talked to Rider about it, expressing apprehension at how I would split my time that evening if he and Beckett were both going to be there. Beckett and Rider are only vague acquaintances, so it's not like it would be comfy to hang all over both of them at once, like it is with Sam, who is Rider's BFF. And Beckett is not joyously outgoing and heteroflexible like Jake is, willing to indulge in three-way kisses with Rider and me. Rider said he'd be happy to let Beckett be my date to the event and said he'd ask Allie if she'd be his own date, since Allie was also invited.

So I texted Beckett, saying that I heard he would be at the party, and asking if he wanted to be my date, since we'd already be hanging out that day. I told him that Rider would be there but doesn't mind stuff like that, and I asked him if that'd be too weird for him. He said, "It's weird, but the whole thing is weird. I don't mind." And then we flirted over text for a little while.

So that will be...interesting. Fun. Exciting. A little nerve-racking. I am glad Rider is chill enough to be willing to take the back seat and allow someone else to be my date at the party. If he hadn't, I'd be a little worried that having Rider as my date, being super affectionate while Beckett was also there would quash whatever it is that I am developing with Beckett. It's so very new and undeveloped that it seems like a delicate, newly sprouted seed, only showing the first tender green bits. And what I have with Rider is so big and robust that it seems like it would easily trample that tiny sprout. I love that Rider instantly understood that and volunteered to step back without even my asking. He's really getting good at this! <3

I guess my life must be exciting because I find myself with something new to report every day lately. Today is the day that Rider and I leave to go to Sam's for the weekend. I got my new roller skates yesterday and plan to roller skate around Sam's house all weekend—he has tile floors—so that I have my balance all steady for next weekend's date with Beckett.

Yesterday, my work day was jam-packed and frenzied again, plus I didn't get it all done and had to work late again, and Rider seemed sad again. Figuring that there really had to be something he wasn't telling me, I sat down next to him and said, "You do know that the reason I don't IM as much with you during the day lately is because I have a shit-ton of work and not because I am talking to other people, right?" He looked visibly relieved and said that the thought had indeed crossed his mind that I was messaging less and having to work late because I'd gotten distracted by other people (Beckett) and wasn't getting as much stuff done during my regular work day.

I assured him that that was not the case—Rider, himself, is still my biggest daily distraction, and THAT is why I've been cutting down on IMing him. I exchange very few texts with Beckett throughout the day. Beckett owns his own business and is kept very busy by it, with no time for incessant texting. Knowing that no one else was the reason for my being less available made Rider feel a lot better. Work is work, and we've gotta do what we've gotta do to get it done.

The stress on Rider of my long work hours was compounded by the fact that I got my fall business travel schedule recently, and then my boss added even one more trip to it yesterday. Now, between business and pleasure (but mostly business), I'll be traveling to seven cities in seven weeks in the fall, even returning to one of them (Kelly's city, Football Town) twice. Which means that it's going to be really rough for me to find any time at all for Beckett, since my time even with Rider is going to be seriously limited.

We talked about it, and Rider said that he does want me to continue to see Beckett during the busy part of the fall, if that's what I want to do, but that I just need to make sure that the time I spend with Rider is really quality time, where I am completely focused on him. Rider and I are really prone to falling into a "vortex" with each other, where the rest of the world just disappears, so I don't think that will be any problem at all. I expressed a fear that I might feel guilty for giving Beckett ANY time, but Rider said not to worry about it—that in less than five months, we're starting over on Opposite Coast and will be spending nearly all our non-work time together, plus, we have the rest of our lives. That made me feel better.

My schedule IS just nuts, though. In addition to my date with Beckett next weekend, I have a...date?...hangout?...not really sure...with a girl on Tuesday while Rider is at his mandate. I've mentioned her on here before as the too-young girl I kissed at a party back in April. Her name is Aurora. I guess I've decided that maybe she isn't too young. She seems smart and put together, even though she's only 23. I think I have a girl-crush on her, and I know she has one on me. I am on a drinking sabbatical until proposal weekend, so I told her I would be down to go grab a meal somewhere but would not be drinking.

And then Arturo (the guy from the poly meetup I went out with once last year) has offered to watch my cat while I am on the road trip with Rider last month, and he wanted to get together with his girlfriend and Rider and me for a sushi double-date (presumably platonic) on Wednesday. And we have a baby shower and ANOTHER platonic double date on Saturday. And then that party where I will have Beckett as my date while Rider is there with Allie as his. Ay-ay-ay! So much social life! I am going to be so thankful that the following week is much less scheduled and that we're going to have a relaxing just-us retreat that weekend.

Despite my working late, Rider and I still had time to have a relaxing evening watching a couple of shows and then having really great sex. I had just barely started to bleed, and sometimes that makes it hard for me to get off, but not this time. My second orgasm was so earth-shattering that I swear I got goosebumps all the way up to my scalp! One thing is for sure: ever since Day 1, Rider and I have had the best sex on the planet. It's like we were made for one another.

I sent Beckett a picture of me in my roller skates this morning, and he replied with "OMG yes!!!" I keep thinking of the other night and getting sparkle-flutters and heart-races.

I am still waiting to hear about my car being finished today. It's in the shop for the first time since I bought it, long overdue because the car is old (1997) and it was running well enough that I just didn't bother to get it checked out until the AC started acting weird. Turns out it needed a condenser fans, new tie rods for the front, new boots (whatever those are), and an alignment. All in all, it's only going to cost about $500, so I can't complain. It being so old, I knew it'd need work eventually.

OK, time to get back to getting stuff done in preparation for this weekend's trip! Here's hoping that all my car stuff goes smoothly, that the drive goes well, that I have lots of fun with Rider and Sam all weekend, and that Beckett sends me lots of selfies from his own trip.

I'm sitting in Sam's living room, ostensibly working while the boys play music in the guest house, but I need a break. My energy's been wonky for a whole day now. Because of my period, I've been crampy and irritable. I've slept less than usual the past two nights, and something is weird with my appetite where I will be fine and then get suddenly intensely hangry over the space of twenty minutes or so. It is also an odd feeling to be here at Sam's house and not drinking along with the boys like I usually do. It's not even that I miss the buzz, but I feel a level removed from them.

Yesterday I picked up my car and then picked Rider up from where he had to drop HIS car off to get some work done, then we hit the road for the 3.5-hour drive. We had a good chat on the drive, like we always do. He told me that it seems like my sexual energy has been off lately because there were two nights in the past week that we didn't have sex. Both were because I was really super tired, due to hormones and being overworked, but he wanted to make sure that I wasn't stopping being attracted to him after sleeping with someone new. I told him that I am still totally attracted to him (and I am!) but explained that I was undergoing a rebalancing (like I'd mentioned earlier in this blog). It was so unexpected for my date with Beckett, which I didn't expect to be a thing, to turn into a thing. If you know what I mean.

When we got to our destination, Sam was in a local bar already drunk. He was doing the cute and drunken staring-at-me thing that he does when he's drunk—he lets his guard down and lets the affection for me shine through. I was reeeeaaallly suffering from cramps, but I didn't want to take any ibuprofen for two reasons: because I had an empty stomach and it irritates it every time, and because it seems to make my period lighter and I am worried that that will make it last longer—I want it to be all done and over with by the next chastity date I have planned with Rider next Friday.

Between the fatigue from driving (it was after midnight when we arrived), the cramps, and the period-related shortness of temper, plus being the only sober person in a bar full of drunk people, every single thing was making me want to snap at people. Rider kept jokingly asking me if I wanted a particular snack that I'd already said no to several times, because he knows I like it but am trying not to eat it right now, and it was all I could do not to bite his head off.

Eventually, one of Sam's friends wanted us to meet her at a different bar down the street, so we walked down there, and the act of walking suddenly made me terribly hangry, and there was no food immediately to be had. The second bar was smoky and everyone there was even drunker than at the first bar. I wanted to scream, but instead of raining on everyone's good time, I excused myself to sit down and kind of double over, waiting out my cramps. Last call came and went, and everyone was dawdling about leaving even though the staff was trying to kick everyone out, and "just five minutes" turned into soooo long, and I finally just had to go stand out in the parking lot lest I go completely postal on my own friends. Time definitely passes differently for drunk people.

When we got back to Sam's, I could only flop down on the couch with the cat while Sam made me a microwave meal. I could barely speak. It was terrible. I felt like I hated everyone and everything in that moment. Eventually the food brought me mostly back to life, but I was never 100% normal. It seemed like bedtime would never come. Finally it was after 4:00, and we finally went to the guest house, blew up the air mattress, and lay down. I knew that Rider wanted to have sex, and given our conversation earlier, I intellectually felt bad for not wanting to, but nothing on earth could have made me want sex in that moment—newly bleeding, on an air mattress, tired, cranky. Just no.

But then, as tired as I was, I couldn't sleep. I lay awake until nearly 6:00 idly flipping through FB and Instagram and the forums on my phone. And then it seems like I woke up every couple of hours in a puddle of my own sweat even though it wasn't hot. There's definitely been something wonky going on with my body this week.

After Rider woke up, I managed to rustle myself into enough of a sexy-feeling state to make him feel good, even if I wasn't into the idea of actually fucking. There was nothing forced about it once I got myself into the mindset. I think he is beautiful and sexy and I love every inch of him. I was happy to make him happy.

But then we went out to eat, and it was raining, and I felt more of the same black mood flitting in and out during breakfast. I'd thought maybe it was just being hungry again, but food didn't seem to fix it. Plus the restaurant messed my order up and what I did get wasn't all that good.

As the day has worn on, I've felt progressively a little better. I petted Sam's cats, and hugged Rider a bunch, and got some texts from Beckett. All of that cheered me up. I still don't feel quite right though.

I am actually enjoying being separated from the boys, cocooned in my laptop and working (well, now writing). Usually I feel like I am missing out on something and am eager to plow through whatever responsibilities I have and get back to hanging out with them. I guess I feel intensely introverted right now. But still, I would not rather be at home totally alone. I'm glad to be here with them, interacting sporadically. I just don't have the stamina for constant contact. Sigh. This is usually such a happy place for me. I hope I perk up soon.

Soon after my last post, I began to feel better. The boys went to the store and brought me back some treats, and I finished my work, and we all played some music. I got to play drums for the second time ever, and I surprisingly remembered everything I had learned six weeks ago, even having gotten better somehow without practicing in the interim.

My bad mood completely vanished like it had never existed. It really must have been mostly hormones and the spectre of work hanging over my head. When Rider kissed me, the regular ZING of electricity had returned. When Sam hugged me, I again found his scent intoxicating.

Plus, that night, for the very first time ever, Beckett messaged me first! He sent me a bewitching picture of himself all decked out in cosplay gear, with theatrical contacts and everything. He looked soooo hot that I nearly exploded. We exchanged a few text volleys and then I went back to music times. But my mind kept wandering back to our night together and just wordlessly seething with lust.

When we were done with music, I strapped the roller skates onto my feet and practiced rolling around Sam's house. The boys seemed enchanted with my fledgling skating maneuvers, and Sam put on the album "The Slider" by T-Rex for me to coast back and forth to. After a few songs, I'd found my legs and was no longer wobbly and Bambi-like. I remembered how to spin around to turn and how to stop.

Around 3:00, we were all super-tired and went to bed.

The rest of the trip was great. Yesterday, we went to a waterside restaurant and got lunch, then met up with some of Sam's friends who were having a picnic in a beach park. The sun and heat were too much for Rider, so we didn't stay long. I cajoled them into stopping for ice cream on the way home, and afterward everyone agreed it was a great idea.

When we got back to Sam's, we played more music, and Sam recorded Rider and I playing our newest song on the porch as it started to rain. Finally, we said our goodbyes. Sam said he might come to Football Town to hang out with us on my birthday. That would be nice, though I do tend to always feel a tension when hanging out with him and Rider and Kelly all at the same time—a weird feeling like we're supposed to be splitting into factions or something, which I don't like. Maybe it won't happen that time.

On the ride home, the topic of Beckett came up again. Rider and I talked about various facets of the thing. Rider seemed curious about my sexual connection to Beckett, so I was explaining a little bit, without going into too much detail, that—at least based on the one occasion that has occurred—the chemistry seems good and his skills and instincts seem good. I told him that I'm definitely far more drawn to him than I have been anyone else I've tried to date in the last year and a half, and I've even had three sex dreams about him over the past week, which, to me, speaks about the depth of the sexual connection and possibility. Rider seemed fine and compersive about everything except that last part. When I told him that I'd had the dreams, he said, "Whoa. Well...don't forget about me or anything."

And that kind of echoed around in my mind a little bit, so I asked him about it. It seemed odd to me that the one thing that I have no control over (dreams, because they originate in my subconscious), was the thing that bothered him. I told him that there was no way that I'd forget about him, and he reiterated his comment from the other day about making sure that the time I spend with him is spent actually focusing on him. My initial thought was to be like, "Yeah, of course!" but before I spoke, I thought through it for a second and realized I couldn't really say that to him. Before I sound like a jerk for that, let me explain what I mean.

So there have been times over the past week where I have been thinking of Beckett while I am with Rider, and a lot of the times that it has happened, I felt bad or guilty about it a little. But then something dawned on me:

I work from home (or from Rider's which is basically the same thing at this point). Generally, I wake up after Rider has already left for work because I don't have a commute. I grab my laptop and start working. Most days, my only distractions from working are IMing with Rider and Kelly (and sometimes Oona) and reading/posting here. When Rider gets home, I stop working and usually start on dinner or whatever. Then Rider and I hang out until it is time for bed. We do all manner of fun and awesome things. About one day a week, he hangs out with his guy friends and I chat with Oona and get personal chores done. Once in a while, we go on dates with other people or go on trips to visit other people. And that is my life. I like it that way.

But. As you might notice, there is no time in there at all when I am alone and not supposed to be working. Therefore, if I am ever to take time to think of another person and process a date that I have had or plan a date that I am going to have, or just to sort my feelings, it is pretty much going to happen during the time that I am with Rider. Because I am just with him so much.

He's not in quite the same boat, because he has massive amounts of downtime at work most days, and spends more time IMing with Kelly than you could possibly believe. And watching YouTube videos. And curating his FB groups. And whatever else he feels like spending his brain power on. Not so for me.

So I can't REALLY tell him that every moment that we are together, I will be focused solely on him. Sometimes, I am going to be woolgathering or daydreaming or exchanging the odd volley of texts with someone else. Nothing excessive, but at least the amount necessary to keep up a connection and to process my own internal feelings. I mean, we technically COULD schedule an hour or so of alone time each day, but scheduling that in seems unnecessarily rigid. As long as we both understand that our focus will sometimes drift to other things, keeping things the way that they are seems fine.

So I explained that to him.

And he said that it makes sense, but that he just doesn't ever want to feel like I am wishing that I'm somewhere else when I'm with him. And I asked him if he did feel that way, and he said no, and that he kind of can't actually picture it happening, because it doesn't seem like something that I'd do. And I told him that it seems unlikely to me, too, that I'd ever feel that way—so why is it even on his mind? And he admitted that he's been guilty of it in the past, so he just wants to make sure that I don't make the same mistake that he did.

I really don't think that I will. Even the times when I am thinking about Beckett, I am not wishing that I were somewhere other than where I am. I am casting backward in my mind, remembering the night we had, or I am casting forward in my mind, wondering what next time will be like, but I am not wishing that I could replace the present with either of those things.

There have been times recently where I really have thought about Beckett and thirsted so deeply to kiss him again that it was almost a physical pain, but...it wasn't a thought that was a wish to remove myself from whatever I was doing. Rather, it kind of just coexisted in me with the things that were happening around me. If I happened to be next to Rider at the time, maybe I squeezed his knee, discharging some of the pent up energy through an act of affection on him.

I also explained to Rider that part of the reason why I am tending to monitor my electronic devices so vigilantly right now, and to answer texts when they happen, is that it's super rare for me to actually catch Beckett in real-time conversation. He's busy, and his communications are usually randomly timed, succinct, and fleeting. I tend to want to dive through that tiny window while it is open. If the communication was longer, or more frequent, or if I knew when could expect it, then I'd probably feel less compelled to be watchful and act on it immediately. I went on to explain that for that reason, it's never going to be a thing where I am sitting there all absorbed in some conversation with him for hours on end—if our communication ever reaches the "hours on end" stage, it'll be less urgent and something I'll likely be able to schedule my own time for. The urgency is inversely proportionate to the availability, therefore there is never any danger of being protractedly rude.

He seemed to think that made sense. I'm glad that I could explain it in a way that he understood.

All of that said, it is totally true that my level of pre-NRE (because I would not call two months of sporadic online communication and one date—even a very good one—a "relationship") squee is totally through the roof for this one. I am very glad that I already have Rider, because Beckett is someone who I would be totally driving myself insane over if I were a single person right now, with the whole "will he or won't he?"/"where is this thing gonna go?"/"OMG, why doesn't he communicate more?" thing. Already having a primary relationship, and knowing that I'm leaving in five months, I can kind of just relax and enjoy it for whatever it is. Which I should probably always be able to do anyway, but the type of guy that Beckett is—the type who is devastatingly sexy and smart but kind of mysterious and aloof—has always been my kryptonite. Instead of kryptonite, now it's more like my cayenne powder: spices my life up, may burn a little, but it's kind of a pleasurable pain and won't last forever.

I actually think that having this experience is probably the thing that will teach me to not ever let anyone be my kryptonite like that again—I'm learning the skills of how to relax and just take a good thing as it comes with no expectation about where it might be headed. So hooray for poly, giving me more ways to grow that I wouldn't have encountered in a monogamous relationship.

I just realized that there are a few things that I forgot to mention...

Firstly, the drinking sabbatical is going well. Despite Rider and I getting back from Sam's pretty late last night and not going to sleep until around 4:00, when our alarm went off earlier than usual this morning because Rider needed me to take him to a carpool stop (his car is still in the shop), I felt relatively well rested. And then I got more done this morning before I usually am even awake than I would have thought possible: running by the garage my own car had been in to briefly talk to the mechanic, grocery shopping, cleaning Rider's fridge out, making breakfast and coffee, doing breakfast dishes plus whatever had been left in Rider's sink since last week, making a to-do list of things I need to accomplish before I see Beckett on Sunday (putting new wheels on my skates, a trip to Sephora for a good daytime foundation, etc.), and straightening up the living room.

Every time I take a break from drinking, I find that I have so much more energy, that my sleep is better, that I am more motivated, and that I have a desire to eat healthier and exercise more...it's not even that I drink all that much when I do drink, but it's easy to fall into the habit of a glass or two of wine with dinner each night, then party-party on the weekends, and all of it adds up, I think. The dinner conversation that I had with Beckett, in which he was discussing his own quitting, and I was telling him that sometimes I take these sabbaticals, is what reminded me that I haven't taken one in a while. Right on schedule, I am starting to feel purified and energized.

Relatedly, after stepping on the scale and seeing that it has gone UP instead of down despite getting my period (which usually dispels premenstrual bloat) and not drinking, I have decided to start calorie counting in earnest. When I went to the store today, I got a basket full of veggies, grapeseed oil to sear them in, some low-cal sources of vegetarian protein (Boca burgers, eggs, 1% cottage cheese), and fruit to snack on if I get a sweets craving. I informed Rider of my plans to cook these basic meals, and I told him he can select his own protein and a carb that I will cook in tandem for him while I cook my own stuff. Today I weighed in at 128.5, and I tend to think that I look best between 113–123. So 5–15 pounds have got to go! Recently in the mirror, I caught sight of fat on my upper arms that had RIPPLES in it. WTF?! It's not like I am even really fat, so that is just uncool. Time to say adios! I should be getting the outdoor wheels for my skates today too, so hopefully I will be able to fit half an hour or so of exercise in per day as well.

Lastly, I don't think I mentioned it on here yet, but it turns out that Beckett is going to also be out of town on the same weekend that Rider is going to visit Kelly in like a month. Mild bummer because I was hoping that if things were still going well at that point, maybe we could hang out with less time restrictions. Ah, well. I am also perfectly happy to hang solo and accomplish some of the myriad Shit That Always Needs Doing.

This is a perfect example of the difference between jealousy and envy, though: other weekends that Rider has spent with Kelly, I felt a lizard-brain-fueled jealousy that stabbed at me over things to do with them. When I think about this upcoming one, I mostly feel envy that Rider gets to spend a whole weekend with his person, and I will probably never get to have that with Beckett. If I could take that moment last Friday—the one where he was moving above me, all dimples and intense eyes and long hair tickling my forehead, then cuddled with soft, thin limbs underneath my down comforter, smiling, peaceful, sleepy—if I could take that moment and stretch it out for 48 hours, I totally would. As things are, it's definitely a dream of impossible luxury.

My blog: a place for squee.

Rider went to sleep early tonight because he had trouble sleeping last night (too much caffeine too late) and we had to get up earlier than usual. He is snoozing away beside me, all satisfied from the orgasm I gave him. I didn't go after one myself, because I am still on and off crampy, and a lot of times getting too turned on makes it worse.

Rider's going to sleep happened to coincide with Beckett texting me saying that his flight back was in an hour, so I actually had a solid 45 minutes or so of texting with him, the first time that has happened. He's taking the red-eye and going to pull an all-nighter, going in to work in the morning and sleeping afterwards. Seems like he's no stranger to that.

I could not help but flirt shamelessly, telling him to pardon my frankness, but every time he posts a picture of himself, my heart stops for a moment. He joked back that I need a cardiologist, and I replied that, nah, I like it the way it is. We had a bit of back and forth about what would happen Sunday but left it undecided for now—he said we'd talk when he gets back. Then just as I was saying goodnight, he sent me a picture of himself, and I joked about needing to find that defibrillator. Good times.

Here in my blog, where I may openly squee the way I can't to Rider (because I don't want to be over the top) and I can't to Oona (because she is in Europe and also tends to roll her eyes over my squeeing), I just want to gush on and on about how delicious that feeling is—the one where I think of touching him and my entire center pulses for a moment, like the blood leaves my extremities and rushes to my core.

It's a feeling that I still get from Rider when he looks at me a certain way or when we kiss, and it's incredible to be able to get it from someone new, too. This is definitely full-blown crush territory.

The way that I feel about my connection to Beckett is that it is unlimited in its potential for feeling, though it is limited in its potential for time, both time spent in any given week, and longer-scale time in that there is, for all purposes, a finite ending point. Once I move away, the incredible distance will make all but the most sporadic in-person contact possible—probably more a time issue than one of money for him. But right now, while he lives less than an hour away, I intend to dive into it to the extent that my current schedule and lifestyle allow.

I see no point in being coy or playing games. I like him—a LOT—and I intend to make sure he knows it and to reap whatever comes from that. I don't feel that either one of us is in any real danger of being hurt; he told me from the beginning that he's not looking for a relationship unless he meets a soul mate, and I told him from the beginning that Rider is my main thing and that I am moving away. Not to mention that there's only so attached one can become in five months (or less). We can have whatever this thing turns out to be, intensity-wise, even given the necessarily short duration; on my end, so far, it's feeling like a power surge: a spike in the current of my life—brief, electrical, intense.

A combination of being a longtime Dan Savage listener and kind of a poly-nerd (reading everything I can get my hands on) has convinced me that something doesn't have to be lengthy in duration to be valuable, meaningful, successful. A single night can be a success if both people get something out of it. And I can honestly say that I would consider this a success even if it petered out tomorrow—probably even if we had never made it to that first date. That experience of connecting with someone instantly—the lightning strike—that he gave me at that fetish party...no amount of "nothing" that comes after can take that away from me. It will forever remain in my trove of cherished memories. Do I want to keep making more? Absolutely. But no matter what, nothing can take away the ones I already have. I've already felt and learned so much.

Aurora canceled on me due to stuff that came up with work, and then some back and forth led us to believe that our schedules will not be compatible again for at least another couple of weeks. I told her I'd touch base with her again after the weekend.

It was fine. I was kind of relieved, actually. Not that I don't want to hang out with her—I do!—but I feel pretty overscheduled this week, so an extra night of nothing on the books was right up my alley last night.

Instead, Rider and I went to Sephora so I could blow a bunch of the money I've made working extra hours, because I needed some new outdoor-daytime-friendly makeup, and there's also this eyeshadow palette I've had my eye on for a long time that I can finally afford. I talked to Kelly on and off for two days about makeup in preparation for this—she knows a lot more about high-end makeup than I do. I never needed to wear foundation at all until some redness started creeping in around age 30, so I am behind the curve when it comes to that knowledge. I tried a bunch of stuff on in the store and took home samples to try in the daylight, then placed a big order online today. Hopefully it will be here by Friday (I did two-day shipping, but it seemed kind of questionable), but if it isn't, at least I have enough of the samples to be fine on Sunday.

I also changed the wheels on my skates to the outdoor wheels I bought and gave skating outdoors a try while Rider watched his wrestling thing. A spin around the neighborhood taught me that I probably need some protective gear. I didn't fall, but it was a near thing a couple of times. When I told Beckett about it, he said he uses wrist guards (which also protect hands), so I ordered some of those and also some knee pads. It wouldn't do to be scraped and bloodied on a second date.

Rider and I also had another processing type of conversation for an hour or so last night. It started because he'd said something that I'd been mulling over for a while, and I'd had another epiphany that was very similar to the one I already explained here about not having "extra" time to text/process/think things related to other people, so had to happen while we are together.

The thing that he said was that it would be highly uncool if I took time out of my work day to research things (such as roller skates) that had to do with other people, and then had to work late to make up for the missed work time—thus cutting into our evening together. I thought about it, and I asked him wouldn't it be the same exact effect if I didn't do it during work time, though, but then spent the same amount of time doing the research in the evening? He thought about it, and said yes, that makes sense. And I asked him whether he meant that it was then uncool for me to take any time at all from our evenings to spend doing preparatory things for hobbies that I might participate in with others. He looked chagrined. This launched an entire discussion.

The thing is that as things currently stand, we do most recreational activities together: music, watching movies or shows, exploring places, food and drink appreciation activities, yoga (when we manage to get to it), etc. My individual hobbies—visual art, sewing, costumes, language learning, etc.—come and go in waves, but I tend not to find time for them when I am really busy in other areas of my life because activities I can do with a companion let me kill two birds with one stone: socializing AND hobby participation. But it seems logical and healthy that over the course of my life, I will choose, in waves, to participate in those activities again, and even add new ones (I've always been curious about gardening, rock-climbing, and jewelry-making, for example). And I may start dating people, such as Beckett, who have hobbies, such as roller skating, that I am interested in trying to see how much I like it.

So if all of my waking, non-work time is Rider time, and it's "uncool" to carve any of that away for individual or other-partner-related hobbies, we have a problem.

To start off with, I asked him whether he'd have a similar problem if I were researching something wholly unrelated to another person, and he said no, he supposed not. So that narrowed it down to kind of a jealousy thing rather than just being upset that I was taking time away from him. He said he always wants to support me in pursuing whatever hobbies I want to pursue.

Once we narrowed it down to that being the issue, we discussed the concept found in More Than Two of "entitlement creep": because neither of us has had a steady local partner since Rider and Claire broke up, our unscheduled time has kind of become common-law "us time." And so it feels to him like I am breaking plans—plans that we did not make—if I spontaneously decided to spend part of the day working on other-related outside hobbies. He felt like he was being robbed of time so that I could spend it elsewhere. Once I reminded him that I didn't really even HAVE any of "my own time" to be spending, if that was the case, a light bulb kind of went on, and he felt a little sheepish at getting peeved about the idea of my spending that time on other things.

We tossed around the idea of scheduling a "free day" into our week, where we both are committed to doing independent hobby things, but as much as I do love scheduling, I really think that is too rigid a solution, and also kind of an illusion. If it's scheduled, then what happens if something hobby-related NEEDS to happen on the unscheduled day? A schedule swap? What happens if NOTHING hobby-related needs doing that week and we'd rather hang out? Isn't it going to basically work out the same as not having scheduled it at all? It just seems to me like adding an extra layer of complication. He says he thinks it will help him to remember that my time is my own to spend as I wish—and I guess that's fair and maybe makes it worth implementing a rigid illusion. Fuck knows I have had to create enough nonsensical comfort structures of my own when I have been weirded out by things. Right now, it's still sort of up in the air.

The other thing that we talked about was how it's harder for him than he realized it would be to see me actually really liking someone for the first time since him. I get that. I've been through that (and still have some echoes of going through it). He said that even though I don't act any differently to him than I was before, seeing me get all giddy when I have some kind of contact from Beckett makes him feel old, comfortable, and boring by comparison. *I* certainly don't feel that way about him. But I get what he means.

When he fired things up with Kelly only nine months into our relationship, I felt a little cheated out of having my time as the new shiny thing. It seemed strange to me that only nine months after falling into this crazy-intense thing with me, he was already on to the next dose of NRE. Meanwhile, it took me a year and a half to find someone I really like, and who knows if that is even going to pan out for the duration of our time before the move. It's been one date. It could end tomorrow. In fact, it could even end TODAY—Beckett texted me asking if he could call me later, and I am paranoid that he wants to cancel and wants to do so not-over-text so as not to be rude. (Probably not, but—EEK!—I forgot what this level of uncertainty felt like!) It wouldn't crush me, but I'd be really disappointed.

But, yeah, I am feeling a lot of empathy for Rider, as I have been there, at the same time as I am feeling determined not to have all my time "belong" to someone else, even my most dearly beloved partner. I need to be able to scrape a couple of hours together here and there to do my own thing when I feel like it. If I can't do that, or if it causes problems in my relationship, that seems unhealthy. The good news is that after discussing it, Rider seems like he understands that and is willing to relax and help me figure this stuff out. I don't ever want to hurt him or to make him sad. I just want to retain my autonomy—and that means more than being allowed the occasional pre-scheduled date with someone else every once in a while.

In other news, I'm really annoyed at my body right now. My period is not acting normal. Once in a while, it goes all light-flow and long for a bunch of days, then gets real heavy right at the end. It has been so weird and light that I suspect that may be what will happen this time. I do not want it to pull that shit and disrupt my sexy weekend plans. I looked back at my history on my tracker app and discovered that it usually does this around times of great upheaval: when I started an affair in my marriage; when I moved in with my ex-boyfriend before Rider; when said ex-boyfriend moved away before me, though I'd later join him; when I did move to join him; when I met Rider...

I can only assume that my body either thinks that I have moved in with Rider since I have been sleeping at his house for over a week, or that it assumes that Beckett is a Great Big Deal and is freaking out about it. Stop it, stupid body. Play nice. This is nothing to get tweaked about.

My instinct turned out to be correct that Beckett wanted to call in order to cancel, but by the time Rider and I got back from our double date with Arturo, Beckett had already changed his mind. Turns out that he had some friends performing at a convention about five hours away this weekend, and they had very nearly convinced him to go with them. After giving it some thought, however, he decided that he was exhausted from traveling and wanted to spend the weekend chilling in his own city.

When he explained that, I asked him if he still wanted company or if he’d rather spend the entire weekend having solo downtime. He said he still definitely wanted to see me on Sunday, but he wanted to play the details by ear. I said we could do that for sure. I guess that means that we might be missing Shana’s party (since it is technically not in Beckett’s city—it’s about an hour drive away), or that maybe I will just make an appearance there before heading home that night, if the party is still going on when Beckett and I part ways.

I am definitely not opposed to the idea of spending an afternoon roller skating with him and then lazing around at his place, if that’s what he had in mind. I imagine that such a set of circumstances would lend itself very well to more making out than party attendance would.

The most squee-worthy part of the whole exchange was that he sent me a little emoji face blowing a kiss with a heart on it, followed by “I had a really nice time with you. Looking forward to more of that.”

So…it’s not over yet.

The double date tonight went fine. Arturo is as sweet as always, and his girlfriend is very nice. She is quite young (21) but already has a two-year-old child. At one point, when the topic of age came up, we noticed that she is nearly half Rider’s age, which got laughs all around the table. Sitting there, we all felt like peers. Adulthood!

Rider and I decided to cancel our plans for chastity today because I have a busy work day and I also was not still feeling bodily right. I'm still bleeding and I was experiencing a tiny inkling of UTI-type symptoms last night (cranberry pills are beating it into submission). Rider didn't like the idea of being locked up without my being able to spend a lot of time teasing him throughout the day, and he also said we should both be in tip-top condition. I think we are rescheduling for Wednesday.

We spent last night fooling around with old photos from the '90s and freshening up our hair color. I also buzzed the back of Rider's hair for him again and trimmed my bangs. I am not 100% happy with how the bangs turned out, but whatever. Punk fucking rock, LOL.

Last night, when Beckett and I were exchanging selfies, he paid me what I believe to be the highest looks-related compliment: "You are truly beautiful." "Beautiful," to me, ranks leaps and bounds above "hot" or "sexy" or whatever. And adding "truly" to it makes it seem so sincere and earnest. Since he's already told me that he likes my mind, I feel like I can revel in that compliment. Getting it from him—when he is so incredibly beautiful himself—just kind of blows my mind. Of course, he hasn't seen me with my home-cut bangs yet, haha! I think I tend to be harder on myself than other people are. I know that people think that I am good looking, but I never expect them to react as well as they actually do. I am not complaining, though!

Tonight, Rider and I are going to a food truck thing with some friends and then probably going to play some music. It should be a good time. All my Sephora stuff (less one palette) came today, so I am also looking forward to seeing what all this fancy new makeup can do.

Tomorrow we have to take my car in to get something squeaky greased, then to Target to pick up a gift, then to a baby shower. Then we have about six hours of downtime that I will probably use to work and just chill, unless I decide that my bangs are too ratchet and I need to pop into a hair-cutting place to get them adjusted. In the evening, we have dinner plans with friends of ours. It will be a relatively busy day, but it should still be fun.

Sunday, I get to hang out with Beckett. I am excited and nervous. I am worried about making a fool of myself on skates. I am worried about whether my makeup will melt off in the hot sun. I am worried about the skating terrain and whether he will want to go faster than I can go. I am worried that I won't be able to think of anything to say, even though conversation flowed so easily last time. I am curious about whether he will kiss me right away (and I get an intense flutter all through me when I consider it). I am curious about what he will want to do with the rest of the day, and whether he'll want to go to Shana's party after all. I am hopeful that I will be done bleeding by then. I am super, super excited to be next to him and to hold his hand and kiss him.

Next week, I plan to finish writing what I am planning to say for my proposal to Rider. I really hope the ring arrives in time. It needs to be here by Thursday, so less than a week. I emailed with the jeweler about two weeks ago, and he said it was still on course to be done in time, but I am still nervous about it. I sent out an email to him today asking what method he ships by and whether he can project what day it will be here, so I can make sure to be home if I need to be. My plans are falling into place—I have Rider all excited about dressing up in drag to go out to dinner (we are vacationing in a town where that is generally accepted), and I don't even know if he has figured it out yet. He SHOULD have, since back when I measured him for the ring, I mentioned that the reason I needed the size right then was that it takes a few months for it to be crafted. And he knows I want to do it gender reversed. And he knows that the place we're going is the same place we went on our anniversary—and it's the half-year mark from that date. But I don't know if he's thought much about it.

I am nervous (even though I know what he is going to say), and I am having some writer's block about what the right thing to say is. I laid the groundwork a few weeks ago by telling him that I was working on a piece of prose for him that I would eventually polish and read to him, so he'll not be too surprised if I pull a paper out and tell him that I finished with the piece I'd been working on and thought it was a good time to read it to him. I know all the main points that I want to hit, but—as verbose and wordy as I usually am when I write—I sit down to try to say it all and nothing comes out. Or everything sounds too trite. I know I'll get it right eventually though. He loves my writing, so I know he'll love it no matter what. And he'll also love that it's written down so that he can save it. He's super sentimental. Gah, thinking about it makes me so nervous.

I am also actually really glad that I started hanging out with Beckett before the proposal because now I feel like I have had the first real test of really liking someone else, being in that unfamiliar position that was bound to happen sooner or later, and it is not at all as scary or as upsetting to my relationship with Rider as my deepest corners had feared that it might be. And my love for him has grown even stronger with his acceptance of everything and even with watching him struggle some. Seeing how he reacts to having feelings similar to the ones I've had in his position—it invokes in me a tenderness and a love and an empathy. Watching him overcome them makes me feel warm and proud of him. I was certain before that I wanted to marry him and to be with him for the long haul, but I did also have some measure of trepidation about how something like this would go down. And now I know. And it is good.

I am a very lucky lady.

Now if only I could clone myself so that I could put my clone to work and free up more hours to spend with these fantastic fellows...

When I texted Beckett today to get an idea of what time he wanted to get together tomorrow, he texted back that he was currently at work and that be might have to work tomorrow too. That is very unfortunate. I hope that if he has to work tomorrow, he is still free in the evening. Even if we can't do the daytime roller skating thing we had originally planned, I'd still like to see him. Time will tell. I told him to keep me posted.

I'm also putting some work hours in on this fine Saturday, even though I stayed up really late working last night and want a nap terribly. The baby shower was pretty all right. There were mimosas, screwdrivers, and beer there, and Rider and a few of his friends ended up getting pretty drunk even though it was early in the day. I was good and just drank coffee and nibbled strawberries.

Getting that text from Beckett kind of deflated my mood, but I'm sure everything will work out for the best. To be honest, I could use the extra time to work, myself, if it comes to that. It just super-sucks if I don't get to see him at all this weekend, because I don't know when my next opportunity will be. Another two weeks? Boo...

Weird feelings.

Rider (who is currently sleeping) ended up continuing to drink more after we got home, while I got some work done and he tinkered with his computer. After he was done with his computer, he poured yet another and sat down next to me (and my laptop) to put on a show for us to watch (me mostly out of the corner of my eye while I did monotonous work). I'm not used to him drinking so heavily, or continuing to drink when he realizes that he's "too drunk to actually record any music" (his words). It made me wonder if something was wrong.

Before the show started playing, he was messaging back and forth with Kelly a whole bunch, probably a continuation of whatever conversation they'd had while he was in the other room. He was smiling at the screen and shooting selfies and obviously drunk and happy. When I reminded him that he'd said he would put a show on, he was like "oh, yeah," and I looked at him feeling the oddest mixture of being annoyed that he was so drunk and distracted that he'd forgotten that fast, but also melted by his beauty. I decided to let go of the annoyance and succumb to the beauty, telling him that he was so handsome and kissing him deeply.

He leaned on me, sloppily, and said that he loves me so much and that I make him feel so many things. I asked him like what, and he said, "Everything. Good things and bad things. But the good things far outweigh the bad things." I asked him what he was feeling in that moment, and he simply said "love." I pressed for a moment about what the bad things were; I found it troubling because he hasn't really mentioned me making him feel bad things, and it seemed like maybe a drunken blurting of something he'd been suppressing that needed to come out. He waved it off and said, "mostly good...let's not worry about it right now."

We watched the show, and the whole time I was distracted by so many feelings. Feeling worried and wondering what bad things I was making him feel that he decided to mention it while drunk. Feeling a strange mix of jealousy and envy: envy of Rider for having a Kelly who messages with him back and forth all day when the other person I like is so tied up with work that I got maybe ten words; envy of Kelly for being able to get those IMs from afar that light up the day while my phone remained dark; jealousy because...probably hormones and his getting so distracted by her that he forgot what we were doing.

My body is still being wack. I am crampy and I cried at the TV show. Small things are irritating me more than usual. I haven't heard anything back from Beckett even though I saw that he read my last text about half an hour ago. I guess he still doesn't know about tomorrow yet.

I felt a sinking feeling that was the opposite of the elation I was feeling yesterday: that the flip side of having two people contributing to my happiness is that it means that they can also both contribute to my sadness. It's like double jackpot or double whammy.

I'm not sure if things are as infinitely complicated as they seem right now, or if it's all a trick of my wack hormonal brain...

Haven't Rider and Kelly been seeing each other for a lot longer time than you and Beckett? I don't think you can really compare the interaction between people who have just started dating and people who have been seeing each other for months/years. It can only lead to feeling inadequate.

MightyMax said:

Haven't Rider and Kelly been seeing each other for a lot longer time than you and Beckett? I don't think you can really compare the interaction between people who have just started dating and people who have been seeing each other for months/years. It can only lead to feeling inadequate.

Click to expand...

I don't know when they'd count their beginning from, but I guess it's been 9 or 10 months since they first made out after a party one night. So probably about that long. They were pretty much off to the races after that.

As for envy, before Beckett even existed for me, I was instead mildly envious that Rider could like someone else so much at all, and like so many others so easily, when my catching fire for someone is so terribly rare. It's a silly emotion, but as the person in the relationship who has had fewer brightly sparking connections, I experience it sometimes. So it's kind of less about the direct comparison (Kelly vs. Beckett) and more about me having this abstract idea of "situation I want" (strong mutual connection with someone) plus now having a target for that desire (Beckett, because I have a giant crush on him), where there would have been a question mark mystery person who didn't exist yet before.

So, yeah, it's not a one to one comparison really. I get the logic of what you're saying, totally, but I don't think that's really what I'm doing. Thanks for the food for thought, though!

Beckett doesn't have to work today after all, so I am up early like a little kid on Christmas morning getting ready. I hope I don't fall over and die on my roller skates, haha.

Long-Ass Post Part 1

Welcome to the longest post in the known universe. If you don't want an extremely detailed recounting of my day yesterday, you might want to skip this one and its subsequent continuation posts!

Yesterday was fun, interesting, novel, and a little bit worrisome. It's strange how all of those things can coexist together. 95% of it was really good, but the other 5% that was not good was made up of two factors: my getting some...maybe not all the way to red, but pink...flags off of Beckett, and Rider getting sooo drunk at the party that he was kind of surly on the way home (which NEVER happens when he's drunk). I'm getting a little worried about his drinking, to be honest. He's always liked to drink, but for the past three days straight he has drunk far too much to the point where it impaired our interactions.

The Beckett flags...so, he's said/done a couple of things that have made me wary of him, like he might have a jerk side of him that would disqualify him from further sex with me if it turns out to be true—I have a "no sex for jerks" policy. I am still warily optimistic, because on the other hand there are things about him that seem genuinely good and kind. I'll type everything out here for processing purposes and to keep track of things as they unfold.

I woke up early and got ready and drove down to his house. I'd told him 10:30, but despite waking so early, I still left a bit late and texted him on the way there that I'd gotten a late start but would still be there before 11:00. He texted me back saying, "No rush, kitten," and I had a little squee at him calling me a pet name. When I arrived, he wasn't done getting ready yet, so I hung around while he got dressed. We chatted and kind of broke the ice a bit, and I was already having fun.

When we were leaving, he put the top down on his convertible and had a bit of trouble getting it to lock down. He said the car, being four months old, was pretty new to him and he wasn't 100% used to it yet. The drive to the beach was nice except [pink flag #1] I noticed that he was a REALLY aggressive driver, the kind of person who goes very fast and zooms between cars. When we got to the parking garage, he backed into a tight spot near a wall effortlessly, and I complimented him on his skill at that, saying that most people, myself included, are terrible at backing in. He said, "I'm not most people," [pink flag #2] which just seemed an unnecessarily arrogant and/or movie character thing to say.

So I'm trying to squeeze out of the door, which is very close to the wall, and I'm trying really hard to not let it bump the wall because his car is very nice and very new, but just when I think I have it propped to a good point, it does that thing that car doors do sometimes where they set themselves to their preferred clicking point and opens itself wider and bumps the wall. Not very hard, but audibly. And [pink flag #3] he says, "Nice." I apologized and about died of embarrassment, but at the same time, I was kind of mad that he'd make a sarcastic comment in that moment to make me feel worse when I'd clearly been trying to avoid what had happened—it wasn't blind thoughtlessness, it was a trick of physics. And, like, he's the one who parked close to the wall, backing in so that the passenger side was near the wall, and he's the one whose car doors do the aggressively clicky thing. And it being a convertible, I didn't have an upper frame I could grab onto to gingerly slide myself out without propping it, like I'd normally do in that situation.

As I got out, I inspected the part that had bumped, and there were two tiny specks of white paint from the wall on the very edge of the door, the part that isn't really visible when it is closed. I felt equal parts cringe that there was anything at all, and relief that it was paint transfer (which can be buffed off) and not chips. He had moved on to getting his skates on and preparing his backpack, so I decided to just follow suit and put all of that out of my mind. I pulled out my sunscreen and started slathering my shoulders. "SPF 15? Wow," he said. "That low, why even bother. It's basically just moisturizer." Ugh-ugh-ugh—more making me feel awkward and criticized [pink flag #4]. But I shrugged and said, "My skin tolerates sun pretty well." He said, "Oh, that's right. Your last name is Spanish." And I said, "Exactly. I don't need SPF Caucasian." He replied, "I'm a Lobster-American," and we both laughed, which defused things a bit.

Then he was trying to close the car top, and it wouldn't close. He realized that he'd actually BENT the thing that hooks it when he'd been having that trouble in the driveway. He spent a while tinkering with it before deciding that he'd just have to fake it being closed and fix it later. I had a bit of schadenfreude, hoping he felt sheepish for making me feel bad about the door.

So we left the parking garage and headed out onto the sidewalk. As we exited the garage, he was talking about how he didn't really know how to stop well yet, so he hopes that people don't assume that he knows what he is doing. I asked him how long he's been skating, and he said that it was something he's just started and this was only his third time. And I don't know whether it was my still being keyed up from the car stuff or what, but I felt like he'd been kind of scoffing at me a little bit for asking, as though his telling me that he wasn't good at stopping should have conveyed that it was very new to him—like equal parts thinking I was dumb for asking since the information was encoded in there, and indignation that I'd think he could still suck at something after doing it for a while [pink flag #4.5—half a point for uncertainty]. It might have all been in my head, though. I was still pretty rattled by the car stuff.

As we skated down the sidewalk, I was very nervous about falling even though I had knee pads and wrist guards on. But we made it to the beach path without either of us falling. Seeing how wobbly he was as he narrowly avoided obstacles and caught his balance as his wheels caught on stuff sort of started to melt the wall I'd been building. It was much less intimidating to be doing this with a fellow beginner. I was also really glad to have practiced around my neighborhood some, to have an idea of how to navigate curbs and such. Once we were on the path, it was pretty smooth, and I started to relax even further, beginning to really have fun again. But then it started to rain and he suggested we find shelter to wait it out. He asked me if I was ready to go to the juice bar he'd mentioned, so we could wait it out there, and I told him I'd defer to his judgment. "I have terrible judgment," he said, which was probably a very dry joke, but I am not always good at detecting these things. Based on how the day had been going, I was thinking it was probably a true statement, whether he intended it to be or not.

The juice bar had outdoor bar stools. Right before I got there, when Beckett had already reached the stools, I totally fell. I made the mistake of grabbing a pole to try to stop myself before crossing an alley or a path or something, and my skates flew out from under me and I landed on my butt, scraping my forearm a bit. It was nothing serious, but I felt kinda dumb. I decided to keep a positive mindset and tell myself that now I know how it feels to fall and it's not so scary, and also that now I have an idea of one more thing not to do. Beckett still seemed weird. He said something about making sure I fall forward instead of backward because he doesn't want to be responsible for my concussion. That, too, could have been a joke...or just a very odd comment...my guard went back up a little because either way it wasn't the reaction most people would have had, and I didn't know how to process it [pink flag #5—another half-point for uncertainty].

(continued...)

Long-Ass Post Part 2

(...continued from previous)

But we sat there and sipped our juice and talked about things. He was telling me a story about how when he was still drinking, he woke up at a friend's house not far from where we were and had no idea how he'd gotten there until he realized he'd driven. I decided to call up his earlier comment, saying, "And this is where your terrible judgment comes in." I'd kind of decided to fight fire with fire a little bit. If he wanted to say weird, ambiguously (or not so ambiguously) jerky things, I could do that too. It's not at all in my nature, but I've also learned not to just lie down and take it when people are making me feel weird. He looked at me for a second, kind of smiled, and then I asked him where the weirdest place he'd ever passed out was. A lot of people who have been problem drinkers have stories about that, and it was on topic.

"Under a piano," he told me. I told him I'd once passed out on a curb in front of a friend's house when I was a teenager and drunk on screwdrivers. And from then on we just kept lightly making conversation. Eventually we finished our juice and the rain was long gone, so we went back to the path. We skated for a while, with my surprising myself at being actually able to make conversation while skating. At one point, the path kind of led us back to the street, and I fell again on one of those nubbly little ramp things that they put next to curbs for wheelchair traction (I think). This time, Beckett seemed far more solicitous of me, grabbing my hand and towing me to safety. "You're a mess," he clucked, but this time in a tender tone that made me feel like he was being caring rather than critical.

At some point I had to refresh my sunscreen, as I had been sweating it off and felt my shoulders reddening. I told him he may have had a point about the sunscreen—next time I need to get some waterproof, sweatproof, hi-octane shit. He offered me some of his and I internally giggled to see that it was only SPF 25. He had made such a big deal over 10 SPF points? Whatever.

When we made it back to the path, he would occasionally outpace me for a while and then wait for me. That was understandable, since I knew he was trying to get real exercise and I can't go that fast, so I was probably slowing him down. There was this one part with really rough brick that was very uncomfortable to skate on, but he was so far ahead of me that I was determined not to take off my skates and do a walk of shame. I made it through, though. On the other side of the brick was another smooth area, then a pier. We took off our skates because they weren't allowed on the pier, applied yet more sunscreen, and found a good spot to stand on the pier.

As we looked out over the water and watched the boats come and go, we chatted and he moved closer to me. Eventually, he kissed me, and we stood there for a while, kissing then chatting then kissing some more. On our first date, he had been wearing very tall gothy platform shoes that had made our height difference difficult for standing and kissing, but with him barefoot and me in flip-flops, it was a lot easier. (I'd judge him to be maybe 5'10" or 5'11"? My perception of dude-height is super skewed because Rider is so huge.) With him shirtless and sweating and me wearing a very skimpy top with a bikini underneath, there was a lot of skin touching. All of the guards that I had up faded away for those moments. He felt soft and well sized and sensuous and passionate. I was completely swept away for a time. Occasionally our sunglasses would clash and I would internally giggle. After a while, he asked if I was ready to get back to skating, and we headed back.

He explained that since there had been so much uphill (which I hadn't really noticed) on the way to the pier, there would be a lot of downhill on the way back. I was nervous about that because, especially on the rough brick part, I had trouble controlling my speed on the downhills. Not even that they were that hilly—it was, after all, a beach—but I am a total newbie on skates. I was right to fear. He cruised effortlessly over the bricks on his sturdy rollerblades, going way ahead. I felt so jarred on my quad skates that I was sure I was going to lose my balance completely.

Halfway down the hill, I remembered a trick I'd learned the day I did derby practice with Reina, and I spied a grassy spot and purposefully took a knee in the grass. I was going so fast that the impact was still jolting, but I am 100% sure it was a better option than breaking my face on the concrete. I finished the hill with a combination of rolling for a while then going into the grass and grabbing a bush then rolling again, repeat, and when I got to the bottom and around the curve where Beckett was waiting, he said he'd been worried that he'd killed me, and I said that's exactly what I had avoided. I explained about the planned derby fall and he looked at me kind of strangely but didn't say anything.

We were headed back to the car so we could drop our skates off and get ready to swim. I suddenly realized that I needed to empty my Diva Cup, so at the next chance that I saw a bathroom, I turned off the path and he waited for me. It was tough navigating a bathroom on skates, so I just took them off. The whole process took longer than I would have liked, but I figured it was whatever. When I emerged, he'd asked me if I'd fallen, implying that it was a long time [pink flag #6], and I told him that no, I just took a long time, and smiled sweetly, deciding to bat back a little again. "Why, were you bored?" He said no, and then just said that he always just pees in the ocean.

As we continued skating, we passed a guy lifting weights, and he said, "Muscle Beach" but in a tone of voice that suggested he'd been picking up part of an earlier conversation. When he didn't say anything else, I scanned our day's conversation, and I ventured that maybe he was trumping his earlier assertion of the weirdest place he'd ever passed out, but he said no, he meant the weirdest place he ever WORKED OUT. I explained that it was his tone of voice that made me think he'd been referring to the earlier conversation. Then he said something that was the first actual red flag, which was that he'd actually stolen the piano story from someone else—part of the reason his drinking had gotten out of control was that he doesn't do stuff like pass out in weird places. Like, WTF? Why tell someone else's story? If you're going to do that, why suddenly admit it? Mind-boggling.

We got back to the garage, and he almost fell on some grates, but he rebalanced himself. He gave me a cold bottle of sparkling water, which saved my life because I was so very dehydrated at that point. We changed out of our skates and walked down to the beach. I was still letting all the troubling things just roll off of me, because why ruin a day in the middle of it? We got down to the beach and put our towels down next to each other. We got to talking about a great many things, and everything stopped being weird. I was glad I hadn't really made an issue of any of the small strangenesses.

At various points in the conversation, little things started to come up that I could almost arrange together like puzzle pieces to explain some of his strange behavior.

He said that he had somewhat of a reputation for being an asshole among acquaintances, and I said I hadn't heard that. He said he thinks the first part is because people assume that he doesn't like them because he doesn't see well without his glasses and sometimes he doesn't wear them to the club so people think he is snubbing them because he doesn't recognize them. He doesn't like to talk over music or have people yelling over music in his ear, so he'll just be quiet a lot of the time, and people interpret that as cold. I was thinking to myself that maybe it's the little remarks he makes that can be interpreted as being barbed, but I kept my mouth shut about it.

(continued...)

Long-Ass Post Part 3

(...continued from previous)

And yet, he told stories here and there that showed a kindness and a strong ethical base and logical way of looking at the world. He bailed his friend out of jail simply because he had the money and the guy didn't have anyone else. He made extra improvements to the house he sold after the price had already been decided on, because he liked the guy he was selling it to and wanted to make it nicer for him. He was a boy scout growing up because he and his friend had made a pact that they wanted to do good in the world when they grew up and became rock stars rather than being a debaucherous poor role model like most of them were. He bought his ex's expensive camera out of the pawn shop and is holding it for her until she can get her act together, even though it's been four years and she's still a mess. He treats service staff well and decries people who are shitty to them...He's obviously not a bad guy.

And then he said that he's really awkward, and things kind of clicked. Suddenly I realized that there was a possibility that his questionable remarks could just be the combination of awkward foot-in-mouth disease plus a measure of the swaggering arrogance that some people use to camouflage their discomfort with themselves. Indeed, sometimes it does seem like he kind of tries too hard to be seen as cool, and that bespeaks some level of insecurity. Which is surprising to me because he's hot, smart, rich, and obviously talented at what he does. And awkward explains the faux pas of questioning what a lady was doing that was taking so long in the bathroom (helloooo, ladies have to do lady-related things sometimes). I told him I'm awkward too, and I used to be really bad about it when I was younger, but I have learned some skills even though humaning doesn't come naturally to me.

He also talked about how people he's dated have accused him of being distant, cold, and guarded—emotionally unavailable. And I can see that. He's got some walls up, for sure. He went on to say that maybe he used to be less like that. Maybe he used to be emotionally open and then the people who got close to him hurt him, so it makes more sense for him to be guarded. I told him I could empathize with that—that I have felt more of that as I have gotten older as well. I call it "wary optimism," I told him. He lit up. "Exactly!" he said. "Hope for the best but prepare for the worst." Having said just that only a few days ago, I smiled. "Exactly," I said. Something shifted between us. We suddenly understood one another.

"And they say that I don't text them back fast enough. But I'm busy, either working or focusing on actually being with whomever I'm hanging out with. That's why hanging out with me is fun. Because I'm actually present," he said. And I told him I try to do the same thing as well, but I sheepishly admitted that I have a special text tone for him so I can get back to him right away in the window of time that he might be looking at his phone. He said that was really sweet and that he liked that.

Then we kissed a while there under the sun, our calves covered with sand. He took off his sunglasses and hovered over me, and stared at me with those deep blue eyes, then suggested we get in the water. The water was heaven—so refreshing after all that skating and sweating and sun. He pulled me to him and we bobbed in the ocean, me wrapped around him like a koala bear, kissing. The sky was so blue and the sun was glinting off of the water. Time stopped. He gave me his hair tie because I'd left mine on the shore, so the color didn't bleach out of my hair. We got smacked really good by a wave for not paying attention, so he made sure from then on to keep an eye out and jump with me whenever one was coming.

There was kissing, giggling, and spitting out of salt water. There was conversation, including a point where he was talking about a boy in a way that made me ask him if he were bi, and he said kind of—more like heteroflexible for the right people. And there was more kissing. And I could feel him physically responding to the kissing. It was like we were a few layers of fabric away from fucking, all while floating in the ocean.

After a while, I think we'd both had enough of the sun. We were starting to turn a little pink. We packed our stuff up and headed back. As we crossed the sand, I said that that was a very pleasant beaching. He laughed and said he likes how I assess each segment of a day and assign a review to it.

Then we showered our feet off, and we were waiting to cross the street, and he said, "That was an excellent showering." I looked at him and smiled and said, "You're making fun of me." But I knew it was in a benign way. He said that reminded him of when there was this Star Trek character who was a god learning how to be human and would process normal human things differently. I told him that makes sense, because I often feel like I am still learning to be human. He squeezed my hand.

When we got to the elevator, I told him that if he sees that I am still learning to be human and STILL LIKES ME, then we'll get along just fine. He laughed and said it's better than those people who are super manipulative and street-smart by the age of 12, who he always has to be on guard around because they are always trying to work some angle.

We got back to his house and he wanted to shower the ocean off together. His shower is really big and nice, and he likes the water way too hot for me. I used to think I liked it pretty hot, but having recently showered with both Rider and Beckett, I now realize I was mistaken. Once mostly dry, we tumbled into bed and started fooling around. I had to do the always-awkward-for-the-first-time explanation of being on my period and saying that I'd just do stuff to him. He said whatever I was into doing and we continued. So I was going down on him but I could tell he wanted me to do something differently, so I asked him what he likes, and he said he wanted to have sex. I told him as long as he didn't mind the mess, and he didn't mind.

So then we were having sex and he completely came alive—so much passion and playfulness belying that chilly, guarded exterior. He has a very nice playful-rough way of doing things, which I like. Like pretending he's going to kiss me but then making me wait for it. Light biting, grabbing parts of me, moving my limbs around...there's something nice about being roughly handled and arranged that I can't really put into words. It was nice. I got off really hard early on from being on top and then just thoroughly enjoyed the rest of it. He has some neat tricks, and we fit really well together. Afterward, he looked me right in the face and said, "You're fun!" in a very pleased and chipper tone of voice. We washed up and cuddled up and drifted off for a nap. I hadn't even realized I was sleeping until he shifted and stroked me and I woke up, instantly alert and refreshed.

We cuddled and kissed some more, then realized that we really needed to eat. He got up and fixed his convertible thingie while I did my makeup, carefully covering the pink end of my nose that I'd acquired in the sun. He was turning progressively pinker, himself, ironically, after the whole sunscreen thing.

(continued...)

(...continued from previous)

We went to a Thai place that he recommended, and the curry was really good there. We had a great conversation over dinner. He looked at me and told me that I was very beautiful—that words like "cute" couldn't cut it (though I was cute, too) and there was more to it than that. I am pretty sure I actually blushed.

As we prepared to leave, I asked him how he was thinking the car situation should work, since he said he did want to go to the party. He said he guessed we should drive separately and just meet there. I told him that I didn't mind riding with him there and back and then just driving home later. He looked so surprised you could have knocked him over with a feather. I explained that it was still just a single round trip for me driving, and hanging out is hanging out, even if it's in the car. He reached across the table and placed his hand on my arm and looked at me so curiously. "You're really sweet," he said, saying it like he was astounded by it. He almost acts like he's not used to people being genuinely nice to him and wanting to hang out with him. After that, he opened my car door for me like a gentleman, something he hadn't done before. Apparently my niceness stirred a little romance in him.

So we headed down to the party, having fun and chatting. When we got there, Rider was already there, and some people were already getting drunk. Allie hadn't shown up yet, so Rider was dateless at first. It turned out she'd had a mix up with her car and arrived late. One DJ friend had made a music video playlist with a bunch of '80s videos, and about half the party was sitting around watching while the other half congregated around the food and beverages. Shana was happy to see us, and we wished her a happy birthday. We were sitting on the couch kind of cuddled up watching the videos and drinking water while everyone else got progressively drunker. Rider was kind of keeping his distance, and at first I wasn't sure if it was because he was put off, but he told me later he'd just been trying to give us some space.

After a while, Beckett's ex and her boyfriend showed up. She came over and gave Beckett a hug and kiss and completely ignored me—not even taking a look for an instant so that we could be introduced. Well, OK, then. She steered clear of us for the rest of the party. SHE cheated on and broke up with HIM, so there is no reason for her to snub me out of spite, so I don't know what her deal is. It was all right, though. Eventually there was a circle of people sitting outside and smoking, and another group of people in the music room around the piano, so it was easy to drift around and not have to be too close to her.

I was happy to see Allie when she finally arrived and gave her a big hug and kiss. Soon after she arrived, someone mentioned the time and Beckett heard it and realized we had to go. He had to be up early in the morning. I told Rider and Allie I'd be back later and we sneaked out.

On the drive back, we started talking about schedules. It turns out Beckett's going to be out of town the two weekends in September that I am in town and not moving. And then, of course, after September is when my crazy business travel starts. Plus, he is about to buy and fix up a house, and he was saying that there will be limited free time for fun stuff while he's dealing with that. He asked me about weekdays, and I told him maybe.

When we got back to his place, he tried to get me to stay. He was very persuasive in that he did manage to get me back into his bed, but I couldn't stay the night like he wanted me to. I kept saying, "I should go," and he kept getting closer to me and saying, "You keep talking about what you SHOULD do..." leaving very loudly unspoken that we both knew what I WANTED to do. We had some pretty incredible sex, but I was a bit concerned because he seemed slightly bored by the slow grinding on top that I need to do to get off. He seemed to prefer much more vigorous movement. I decided just to go with it and not worry about an orgasm that time. If it's an ongoing thing, I'll worry about it then. Otherwise, the things he does, though—just whoa—it's still an incredibly pleasurable experience, orgasm or no orgasm.

Afterward, I apparently said it again, without realizing it: "I should go." And he said again that I keep saying what I should do. I sighed. I really wanted to be two places at once: back at the party with Rider and falling asleep next to Beckett. I was having trouble forcing myself to move even an inch, and I said so. So he broke the spell for me, turning rightside up on the bed (we'd been somewhere near the bottom of his very large bed) and making it so that I had to move. Once the spell of laziness and reluctance was broken, I said, "OK, I will move inches now. Then feet. Then miles." I got up and dressed. I came around to where he was lying to kiss him goodbye, and after one more attempt to get me to stay, he walked me to the door. His gorgeous nakedness contrasting with my total clothedness was hot. We kissed goodbye again by the door, and then again halfway out the door, with him completely seeming not to care that he was in full view of the street. That one's a bold one.

I got in my car and headed back to the party, which had pretty much wound down. There were a few people left, but not many. Rider was completely wasted. I was glad I'd come back for him, if only so as to prevent him from trying to drive home. He seemed to think he could wait out his drunkenness and sober up enough to drive home, but he was clearly far past that point. I convinced him just to leave his car and that we'd come back for it the next day.

On the drive home, Rider was so drunk that we were having completely crossed communication wires, and so I gave up trying to have any kind of real conversation with him. He seemed out of it and surly, and he only seemed to perk up and look happy when I asked if he wanted to have sex when we got home.

So we did. I was far too tired to have an orgasm. I couldn't really get my head in the game even though he was making my body feel amazing. I was very happy to cuddle up with him afterward and just go to sleep.

This morning, I have been processing yesterday pretty hard. My wariness about Beckett and his weird remarks have stripped all of the squee off of the situation. I still like him, and I still want to see him again, but my cataloging and processing things that made me uncomfortable seems to luckily have triggered my body to regulate its own brain drugs. It's lucky because I think it makes me more clear-headed. I need all my wits about me when I'm trying to decide what someone is all about.

It makes sense that he is an awkward and easily wounded person inside, who has built up this stone façade of aloof cool guy to shield himself. That's fine. I don't need him to let me all the way in or to share his soul with me. What is important to me is that he doesn't use whatever wounds he might have as an excuse to hurt or belittle other people, including me. I want my connections to people to bring mutual happiness, respect, and good feelings. And that is not what comes from communication that is peppered with comments that are ambiguously barbed or condescending. And if he's just joking...it may be that his sense of humor and mine simply do not match up enough. I'm a pretty earnest and sensitive person, and zingy quips at my expense are not the way to keep me around.

It's pretty confusing to me, though, the whole thing. Why does he bother to be soooo very nice to me—kissing and complimenting and being playful and grabbing my hand and sending little blowing-heart-kisses emoticons and trying to get me to stay longer even after the sex is over—if he doesn't really like me? And if he does really like me, what's up with all the flags? I am definitely not getting any further invested in this until I figure that out.

So that is that, for now. Probably what will happen is we'll hang out another time or two, and I'll make my decision about what he's really about, and if he is a jerk, I'll do the fadeaway. Fuck knows it'll be easy enough, with both of us being so busy. And if he's not a jerk, I guess we'll see what happens from that point. Honestly, at this point, I don't feel like I have any stake in it. It is whatever it is, and I just have to wait to find out what that will be. It's totally out of my control. It's actually kind of nice to care less than I did the day before yesterday. It's freeing.

Reverie said:

... "SPF 15? Wow," he said. "That low, why even bother. It's basically just moisturizer."...

Click to expand...

Just for the record - he is totally off base on this one. SPF 15 is actually about the highest useful SPF - as only 1/15 of the burning radiation will reach the skin - so it blocks 93% of the burning radiation. Go up to SPF 30 and only 1/30 is reaching the skin, which takes you up to 97%. Go all the way to SPF 50 (the highest claim allowed) and you are at 98%. So, for however much extra you are paying for "high" SPF formulations you are getting, at most, an improvement of 93% to 98%. Bah - not worth the extra money - diminishing returns.

More important is to REAPPLY the sunscreen frequently (reapply after 15 minutes and then every two hours or after sweating or swimming). Higher SPF sunscreens to not remain on the skin or stay effective ANY longer than lower SPF sunscreens.

(Sorry for the PSA - will go back and read the rest of the post - I just get annoyed at "know-it-alls" who have the facts wrong )

PS. Adding on as I read more - weirdest place I have ever passed out. Under a table...in a bar...on a boat...in Berlin...at 17 - drunk on Underberg of all things.
PPS. Diva Cup? Awesome, isn't it?
PPPS. Dehydration? Totally recommend the CamelBak - saved my life snowboarding.

Overall impression - not bad, worth a little more exploration if you are feeling it. (Not that you necessarily care what a stranger on the internet thinks.). He has some asshole tendencies - these tend to be exaggerated under stressful situations (like early dates). Potentially mitigated by "nice guy" stories (if they are really his and not "borrowed")