On breaks

I think I'm going to take a break from my blog for awhile. I haven't been writing much recently because I felt like I didn't have anything to write about. I was tired of my interactions with Richard only being over the phone because, now that our meeting was in sight, they felt less and less real. I wanted to wait until we had met, and then I could write to my hearts content.

Unfortunately, he is not going to get to make the trip overseas, so the meeting is now on hold indefinitely. I'm not coping with this as well as I thought I would.

In three weeks I am moving. So I think I am going to officially take a break here and try to get my life sorted out. Hopefully I will be back then, with renewed vigour and lots of musings and stories to tell.

Bye everyone

On decisions

I would like to say that I hate having all the stress of an international move, the sadness of the end of a relationship, and the excitement of a potential new relationship on me all at once. But it would be a lie. I should be stressed. I should be crying. My brain should be spinning.

But no... I'm fine. That doesn't mean that there aren't bad nights or bad moments, but it does mean that in general, it's not getting me down. I thrive in tight spots. It's something I've always known about myself, and it sometimes makes me worry that I create tight spots for myself. That I make things more difficult than they need to be simply because I know I can handle it. I get bored and sluggish when things are going well.

But there are just so many decisions to make. Who will ship my things, what do I take, when do I start packing... When do I say goodbye to friends, do I take the train down (with three suitcases) to see them or do I beg for a ride... Will Richard actually be able to come to London, should I change hotels to try to save a little money, will a hotel with hardwood floors be ok if I plan to spend many many hours on my knees....

And then of course there are all the decisions to make after I move. Like where I live, primarily. Richard and I had discussed this issue a few times, but never this close to the move. We had always planned to spend a week together, see how we get along, and talk more about it after that. But now it's 7 weeks before he's supposed to be here and he doesn't even has his passport yet. I know he's trying hard, so I'm still hoping... but the reality is looking a little iffy.

Today I asked Richard about this again. Specifically, I asked if he doesn't get to come, what his thoughts were about where I would live. Ultimately it's my choice, not his, but I'd still like his thoughts and opinions. He told me to go where my heart desires.

The only problem is this: he knows my heart desires to be somewhere in the southwest and he's in the midwest. My wonderful insecure brain immediately started wondering if he was being practical and saying I should be where I'm happy (after all, he and I might meet and hate each other) or if he was starting to think that he didn't want anything more than an online relationship.

I tentatively tried to figure out which was the case and asked how he would feel if I ended up moving to his state. After all, it is conveniently about half way between my friends to the south, half of my family to the east, and the other half to the west. There are job opportunities and a low cost of living. There are practical reasons for me being there. The fact that he is there is a wonderful bonus but not the deciding factor. My heart wants to be in New Mexico... but maybe at this junction of my life my heart will have to wait a little longer.

He said wasn't up to him and that he didn't understand why I was even asking. He promised that he wouldn't be freaked out and think I was stalking him (unless I moved in to the house next door). Whenever we meet, we will see if our relationship has a future. If it doesn't, my home has nothing to do with him and I won't regret living there (his worry, not mine. I wouldn't do something I would regret for anyone, even him). If it does, we'll make things work where ever I live.

It doesn't really help me make this decision, but it does remove any restrictions. Or most restrictions. Now I just have to decide what to do with myself. *smiles*

On monotony... er, monogamy

I was talking to Maria the other day about her new boyfriend. Man, when she falls she falls hard. *grins* But I'm ridiculously happy for her.

She was talking about places where their interests differ. I'm incredibly impressed with this man (who I got to meet for a day) for several reasons, but particularly because while he may not be especially kinky, he is very open to experimentation. It's the difference between willing and wanting, I think. But anyway, she said one of the few differences was that he would consider threesomes or swinging, and she has no interest at all in sharing. It surprised me a little because I know she's done it before, and she's not generally possessive or self-conscious.

But it got me thinking and I realised that I've really never been particularly monogamous. That said, I've never cheated on the man I was with. Well, unless you count what I'm doing at the moment, and I guess you have to. But anyway, I just always assumed that there will be more men in my life. I would much prefer my partner to be on board about it though.

But at the same time, polyamory is out too. At least in terms of two or more relationships on the go at once. Having one partner and other play partners is fine. But I can't imagine actually having a relationship with more than one person.

I have poly friends and I've known several people who incorporated another regular person in to their relationship and I just don't think I could handle it. For me, the only way it would work would be to have my Dom and I as the core couple, in love and full of trust, who just happen to have a few guest stars in their bed from time to time.

On low expectations

Ok, it's probably a bad idea to have two posts on expectations in less than a month, but there's a reason for them both. I've been thinking about romance tonight and I remembered Richard asking me if I had low expectations of him. He has asked me that a few times in the year that we've known each other.

I didn't know how to answer him. Because I didn't feel like I did. At least, not specifically of him. I think I just have low expectations in general. Is that bad? I don't choose to have low expectations because I don't think he or anyone else can live up to high expectations. It's just that... if you have high expectations, you're guaranteed to be disappointed. If you have low expectations, you're pretty close to guaranteed to be impressed. I'd rather take the chance of living a life of happiness than take the chance of living a life of misery.

That still seems logical. But I wonder if we don't get what we ask for sometimes. I mean, how often do people always try to do romantic things when they don't have to? If you expect flowers and romance, surely you're more likely to get it than if you don't. Or maybe I'm wrong.

I'm not good with compliments and romance. I don't know what to do with it. So I certainly don't expect it. But when it comes in small doses, I don't stop smiling for a week. Tonight I asked myself what the most romantic thing in my life has been. I went through trips to Paris, flowers on special days, well-meaning presents that didn't quite work out as planned, and all the kisses I've ever been given. What was my verdict?

One afternoon I lay back on my couch and listened as Richard read me Transmetropolitan, a dark comic book featuring violence, corruption, addiction, and misery. The picture at the top is the main character. But I don't want my description to down-play the most romantic moment in my life.

He shared part of his life with me. Something he loved. It's kinda hard to "read" comic books when you can't see them, so I listened to him describing the pictures, doing the sound effects, and reading the lines. *smiles* It was just so wonderfully comfortable. And so incredibly sweet.

On solidarity

It's strange... I've known for awhile that I've felt less playful. I haven't been interested in my usual playmates or in chatting with random people. I've just felt... well, quiet almost. Calm. But I've only realised recently that I'm doing it because he's gone.

It never feels like cheating when I'm talking to him often because I know he doesn't mind. Plus I get to share any interesting experience with him. I do it because I want to, but I get to share it with him and it makes it even better. But when he's not around, it just feels wrong.

I've noticed this with other couples too. When you're not around each other, sometimes people get a little more introverted. You know you can't really fix problems if there are any, so you try your best to keep things light and problem-free. At least until you get to be around each other again. *smiles*

I can't believe it's been seven weeks since we've really talked. But I'm just whinging now, so I'll stop.

I miss you today.

I've never felt this completely and utterly drained. Didn't get much sleep with the alcohol and sleeping on the couch thing. Woke up with a little hangover, but not a bad one. Spent the morning with Maria and her boyfriend and then they left and I had a huge fight with Patrick. He left for work and I'm just... drained.

I remember reading something someone wrote about when she feels like this. She said sometimes she just goes and kneels by her man's side when he's working. She doesn't want the attention, she just wants to be close for a minute. And after awhile things are fine again.

That's all I want. I just want to curl up beside you for a few seconds. I don't want to talk about what's wrong because nothing really is. I just want to feel you beside me for a minute and know that deep down, the world is right.

On forever

I got my first tattoo today. *grins* About ten years ago, I decided I wanted one on my foot, but I could never quite find a design that I loved. So I kept putting it off. I wanted to be sure.

Then a year ago I was watching an anime and I saw this design on a character. It was only on the screen for a split second, but I gasped and had to rewind and pause it to see it again. I had never seen anything so beautiful.

I spent the rest of the year finding the perfect way of drawing it and looking back again and again to be sure I still loved it. I debated the pros and cons of using someone else's design. I do like originality, after all. I explained to friends that while the design was from a show, it wasn't about the show. I didn't pick the design to commemorate my love for it, but if it must represent the show, let it represent anime on the whole. I've loved that for years now, and even if I don't still love it when I'm 60, it has been an important part of my life up to now.

When I was sure, I went to my artist and booked an appointment. He and I talked about ways to make the design my own. You can't tell from that picture, but there are actually three different colours of red. It gets darker toward the tips. And in the two weeks between consultation and appointment, I kept expecting to be worried. After all, this will be on me forever.

Forever is an idea that terrorfies me. In relationships, saying forever seems ideallistic and frankly stupid. The idea of commiting to something that has to last the rest of your life is a pretty scary idea.

Until now, nothing I've done is forever. I have piercings and stretched ears, but they would grow back if I didn't like them anymore. Marriage isn't forever. Jobs can change. Friends come and go. Honestly, I like that. No one knows what the future will bring, and it's comforting to know that I can change with it.

So, even though I had spend almost a year making sure I loved the design and a decade making sure I loved the location, I was still surprised that I didn't have second thoughts. Even the second before he started, I was thinking "Really? You're still ok with this? You're not going to panic?" But I didn't. I was relaxed and ready.

And now that it's done, I can't tell you how happy I am. 50 years from now, I may be unrecognisable as the woman I am today. My hair will be gray (hell, that'll probably be in about 5 years), my face will be wrinkled, and my body will be changed. I may be single or married. I may have kids or I may not. I might be a retired counsellor, or I might be a retired zoo keeper. But I'll still have this tattoo. It may be faded and warped over time, but it'll still be mine. And somehow, that doesn't worry me.