I have had a lovely few days recently, but there are a small number of negative things that need to be packaged up in no particular order and put out there.
On Saturday after a night out Fella and I were walking back to my place when a group of youths saw us and gave us a lot of hassle. I was holding his hand as we walked, and they spotted it and we got a lot of abuse. It could have been a lot worse but I was pretty shook up. I just kept hold of his hand and we just kept walking… yes it could have been worse but it’s sad. I’ve tried hard not to get too angry about it and be philosophical. The good thing to come out of the incident is a determination never to let go of his hand again wherever we are; and a much clearer understanding that – as ever, as ever, gentle reader, gentle reader – coming out was absolutely the right thing to do.
On Sunday I saw some family who largely live in Italy – though some live in Cyprus. They all know I’m gay and they’re fine with it; though there was an uncomfortable discussion with my aunt when she explained that if I were to come and visit – as I (and Fella) would be most welcome to do – I should be better off coming without my mother as they understand her attitudes are… complex. It made me a bit sad that these delicate negotiations were necessary, but again I’m lucky to have so many good people in my family that I get that support – not in a them/us way, but a holistic we’ll-help-you-manage way. Sadly the penalty for homosexuality in North Cyprus remains life imprisonment so I think for now I choose the sun on my heart over the sun on my skin!
And today… well, International and I are still in touch and he told me today he’s from Ouch and has a new boyfriend. It makes me feel a bit weird even though we would have split up either way and he surely never thought enough of me for it to last. The echoes of past love… I feel a bit guilty as it’s not fair to Fella; and these days he’s likely to be who I’d turn to, to talk about anything. Well, anything else. I’m not sad or regretful that International and I aren’t together. I’d be the greatest fool who ever done lived to choose anyone or anything over Fella.
Tut tut. Onward and ever upward, as they say. Walk on. Think on. Read on…
Showing posts with label International. Show all posts
Showing posts with label International. Show all posts
Monday, 17 August 2009
Monday, 6 July 2009
Weekend
Well, first things first. Let me say now Oooops; I accidentally revealed Fella’s secret identity. I didn’t mean to; this is what happens when you dash off a hurried post at work in!
My lack of care tempted fate perhaps, because on Friday night he and I ended up having our first Big Row. We go through it and we’re fine; I suppose it’s a good test of our relationship that we are comfortable enough to have a row with each other and not consider falling out to be a deal-breaker at seven weeks.
So what happened? Well, a couple of days ago The Gardener moved in a 19 year old French exchange student/model who is staying for a month. That’s all fine. Except for Friday, when Fella and I are there trying to enjoy a lovely romantic dinner that he prepared. All the while this 19 year old is SHAMELESSLY flirting with MY gorgeous guy.
This of course made me feel decidedly uncomfortable though Fella responded by becoming increasingly affectionate with me so no complaints there. It just got my back up when Fella then invited the Frenchist to join us at Pride.
Fella picked up that I was miffed at this and later complained I do not trust him. I explained I DO trust him, and I KNOW he’s not going to do anything. I just didn’t want to spend my first Pride watching a repeat of that performance.
I suspect this was a “Straw, meet Camel’s Back” moment because Fella became quite upset and said I was putting him on a pedestal and I shouldn’t and he ISN’T this great guy and he’s not ready to say what he thinks I expect him to say.
I gave him a big hug and assured him I am taking things slow and though I think he’s great I’m not going to make some flamboyant declaration of undying love and I don’t expect him to do anything but I do want to be with him and see how things go.
As rows go I suspect that wasn’t too bad. A row about not so much; he was a bit highly strung after making what he thought was a terrible dinner but I know was delightful. I’m a piss-poor communicator whose brown eyes can, it seems, turn green once in a while. But as it was our first row (and, who knows? Perhaps our last) it’s kinda special. I do know that we spent much of Saturday and Sunday making it up to each other in the nicest possible way.
On Saturday Pride was tremendous fun. All the armed and emergency forces were well represented in the parade which was fantastic. In a small world coincidence Fella and I found ourselves standing next to International at the parade so I introduced them. Fella was quite dismissive, only commenting later that he is much prettier than International [green eyes all round?].
A busy weekend! Hope you enjoyed yours, gentle reader.
My lack of care tempted fate perhaps, because on Friday night he and I ended up having our first Big Row. We go through it and we’re fine; I suppose it’s a good test of our relationship that we are comfortable enough to have a row with each other and not consider falling out to be a deal-breaker at seven weeks.
So what happened? Well, a couple of days ago The Gardener moved in a 19 year old French exchange student/model who is staying for a month. That’s all fine. Except for Friday, when Fella and I are there trying to enjoy a lovely romantic dinner that he prepared. All the while this 19 year old is SHAMELESSLY flirting with MY gorgeous guy.
This of course made me feel decidedly uncomfortable though Fella responded by becoming increasingly affectionate with me so no complaints there. It just got my back up when Fella then invited the Frenchist to join us at Pride.
Fella picked up that I was miffed at this and later complained I do not trust him. I explained I DO trust him, and I KNOW he’s not going to do anything. I just didn’t want to spend my first Pride watching a repeat of that performance.
I suspect this was a “Straw, meet Camel’s Back” moment because Fella became quite upset and said I was putting him on a pedestal and I shouldn’t and he ISN’T this great guy and he’s not ready to say what he thinks I expect him to say.
I gave him a big hug and assured him I am taking things slow and though I think he’s great I’m not going to make some flamboyant declaration of undying love and I don’t expect him to do anything but I do want to be with him and see how things go.
As rows go I suspect that wasn’t too bad. A row about not so much; he was a bit highly strung after making what he thought was a terrible dinner but I know was delightful. I’m a piss-poor communicator whose brown eyes can, it seems, turn green once in a while. But as it was our first row (and, who knows? Perhaps our last) it’s kinda special. I do know that we spent much of Saturday and Sunday making it up to each other in the nicest possible way.
On Saturday Pride was tremendous fun. All the armed and emergency forces were well represented in the parade which was fantastic. In a small world coincidence Fella and I found ourselves standing next to International at the parade so I introduced them. Fella was quite dismissive, only commenting later that he is much prettier than International [green eyes all round?].
A busy weekend! Hope you enjoyed yours, gentle reader.
Monday, 11 May 2009
Observation
I met a couple at the weekend who had been together for more than 20 years. They live in a beautiful house a couple of miles from me. One a teacher, his boyfriend used to work in publishing. They have taken early retirement and spend their time between their house in London and a small cottage in Wales.
Being with them, in their home, listening to hear them recount the gay history of my area; the discreet pubs and drag acts and cruising spots that over the years have disappeared, it was very interesting. It was also very pleasant to watch and hear them reminisce and bicker. It reminded me of my grandparents; the way they kept a huge proportion of their life experience in someone else’s head. It felt very safe, like home; and it was exactly, exactly why I want so much to find someone to share my life with until our life is done.
International got in touch with me at the weekend. He had texted me but I ignored this which I felt a bit guilty about, but considered was for the best. So he sent me a long email instead. His situation is unchanged; he remains with Ouch. They are having a Eurovision party to which he would invite me but he does no yet feel he is ready for us to be friends. He wanted to know if I had found somebody else. Don’t know why he bothered to contact me really. A while ago I suppose it might have felt a bit torturous to be reminded of what it and might have been. Now I just think WTF?
I replied to International explaining I have a great job, friends and sex-life to the search for Mr Right is taking the back seat at the moment. I did not explain that all the things I want to do, over the next few months, are to show myself I can do better than him, and find someone who does want to be with me; and who will never regret it.
Because for all my great job, friends and sex life there is the gap between them all that is snuggling up to someone as you wake up in the morning; holding hands as you walk down the road; having that someone who makes you smile when you think of them. Those are the things I want, and I miss terribly. I feel a bit sad that I may have to wait a while to share them. But I’m still having fun, still am very busy. It’s not all wistfulness and deep sighs! I even start my new exercise and diet regime tomorrow. There’s just that gap that I can’t seem to close by myself…
Being with them, in their home, listening to hear them recount the gay history of my area; the discreet pubs and drag acts and cruising spots that over the years have disappeared, it was very interesting. It was also very pleasant to watch and hear them reminisce and bicker. It reminded me of my grandparents; the way they kept a huge proportion of their life experience in someone else’s head. It felt very safe, like home; and it was exactly, exactly why I want so much to find someone to share my life with until our life is done.
International got in touch with me at the weekend. He had texted me but I ignored this which I felt a bit guilty about, but considered was for the best. So he sent me a long email instead. His situation is unchanged; he remains with Ouch. They are having a Eurovision party to which he would invite me but he does no yet feel he is ready for us to be friends. He wanted to know if I had found somebody else. Don’t know why he bothered to contact me really. A while ago I suppose it might have felt a bit torturous to be reminded of what it and might have been. Now I just think WTF?
I replied to International explaining I have a great job, friends and sex-life to the search for Mr Right is taking the back seat at the moment. I did not explain that all the things I want to do, over the next few months, are to show myself I can do better than him, and find someone who does want to be with me; and who will never regret it.
Because for all my great job, friends and sex life there is the gap between them all that is snuggling up to someone as you wake up in the morning; holding hands as you walk down the road; having that someone who makes you smile when you think of them. Those are the things I want, and I miss terribly. I feel a bit sad that I may have to wait a while to share them. But I’m still having fun, still am very busy. It’s not all wistfulness and deep sighs! I even start my new exercise and diet regime tomorrow. There’s just that gap that I can’t seem to close by myself…
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Fun and Games
I have had this week off work and, as part of my 'Whole New Me' detox programme I have been spring cleaning my apartment and chucking out a load of old rubbish that I’d accumulated. I also, and I recognise that I tend to do this when emotionally ‘challenged’, have been having a fair amount of assignations. In fact it has tended to be work in the morning, some fun in the afternoon and a bit of wine in the evening.
What does this tell us, gentle reader? Possibly I am turning into my father… or perhaps I’m just not really confronting the real issues.
And in that regard I think today was helpful.
This lunchtime I had a particularly fine piece of fun with a guy I’d met at the very end of 2008, and someone he know from the local area. Threesomes have always been a favourite of mine; and this was particularly nice.
On the way home I bumped into a guy who is among the more regular of my gentleman callers and it was, I thought, rather sweet of him to stop and talk to me in the street. After I got home I chatted to my neighbour for a while; then I had a client. And after that I put on the CD that International made for us for our Spanish holiday when we first got together.
Uh-oh.
When I was a very young child I recall asking my father why he never cried, as opposed to my mother who seemed to cry rather a lot in my view. His response was simply that “real men don’t cry”. So perhaps I am not very much like my father, because I’ll admit I did have a little cry whilst I got on with my cleaning…
But, before you throw your hands in the air and cry “Oh, Frumpella, get over yourself!” I had a small revelation.
Whatever I had with International, and whatever he offered before we had That Talk in February… it wasn’t/isn’t what I want.
A small adjustment but it really makes all the difference. I get it: and it’s all fine now.
On a final note I should very much like to thank my friend ‘A’ for a number of reasons: being a pretty damned good friend when actually going through some pretty similar stuff; coming up with so many Rules that she deserves a co-author credit on this blog; and finally for being just about the only person with enough balls to be the man in my life!
What does this tell us, gentle reader? Possibly I am turning into my father… or perhaps I’m just not really confronting the real issues.
And in that regard I think today was helpful.
This lunchtime I had a particularly fine piece of fun with a guy I’d met at the very end of 2008, and someone he know from the local area. Threesomes have always been a favourite of mine; and this was particularly nice.
On the way home I bumped into a guy who is among the more regular of my gentleman callers and it was, I thought, rather sweet of him to stop and talk to me in the street. After I got home I chatted to my neighbour for a while; then I had a client. And after that I put on the CD that International made for us for our Spanish holiday when we first got together.
Uh-oh.
When I was a very young child I recall asking my father why he never cried, as opposed to my mother who seemed to cry rather a lot in my view. His response was simply that “real men don’t cry”. So perhaps I am not very much like my father, because I’ll admit I did have a little cry whilst I got on with my cleaning…
But, before you throw your hands in the air and cry “Oh, Frumpella, get over yourself!” I had a small revelation.
Whatever I had with International, and whatever he offered before we had That Talk in February… it wasn’t/isn’t what I want.
A small adjustment but it really makes all the difference. I get it: and it’s all fine now.
On a final note I should very much like to thank my friend ‘A’ for a number of reasons: being a pretty damned good friend when actually going through some pretty similar stuff; coming up with so many Rules that she deserves a co-author credit on this blog; and finally for being just about the only person with enough balls to be the man in my life!
Saturday, 4 April 2009
Hint of Drama
I want to share an interesting episode from last week, as it relates to my complaint of shyness a couple of posts back.
On Thursday colleagues and I went for a drink and whilst there I began exchanging Looks with a guy at the bar. He’d been having drinks with some family but they had left and we exchanged Looks and Smiles and eventually I went over to him at the bar and…
And that’s it, gentle reader. I didn’t really have the balls to do more than have a few flirty exchanges and buy him a drink. However, I wanted to share that little story because I was actually surprised by myself – in my behaviour at so openly flirting with someone: my 97 colleagues who were watching overall gave it a 9.6; eager to a fault they were to share their views.
Overall view, I think, I wasn’t ready to take things further. Yet this is a battle we might anyway call a win; the war continues ever yet! And yes, I kick myself for not making the situation result in a bit of fun, or perhaps more. But the key point to all of this is that there is next time, and next time and next time.
A tad more positive than the very silly thing I did last night…
And before I go any further I want to make clear you can do anything, just not the face OK?
…which was to contact International.
I know! I know! It was totally the wrong thing to do. But as I have mentioned I miss him. And that is an understatement.
So I asked him how he was and whether he was glad to have met me; he said he was. Very much so. I explained that I missed him and he set the bar pretty high but that I was [getting] ready to start dating again. He said he was still working through some issues but he hoped we could become friends.
It was a foolish thing to do but I am a lot surer now whaever my feelings I don’t want to get back together with him, so in many ways it was as helpful as it was ill-advised.
What was probably more helpful was the kind action of friends last week; one in the office deliberately introducing me to a fellow colleague whom I really do find attractive (and he ended up talking to the two of us quite candidly about being gay; something apparently unprecedented in her experience of him. Hmmmm….). And a very good friend of mine sent me a link to www.meetup.com which is an international site listing groups and clubs and other associations of ‘like-minded’ people. It’s not gay focussed but it will, as she suggested, provide a new avenue for me to go out and meet people.
Further updates as events warrant :-)
Friday, 20 February 2009
Rant!
It didn’t work out… you need to not exist.
That’s usually been the way with me and my ephemeral boyfriendettes. But with International I was hoping it would be different. Perhaps it still can be, but he’s annoyed me such a lot today.
We were friends on Facebook, but he’s decided not to do that anymore. And that’s fine. Well, it isn't actually. But what really riled me was his explanation to me that it was in case he found happiness and that, through the medium of status updates and similar, touched a nerve with me as I’d still be, at this unspecified time “raw” after the break-up.
How dare he?!
Thoughts of Rule 7 rose unbidden in my mind and in my terse reply I set out my disappointment at his presumptuous projection of his feelings onto me.
How the very dare he?!
There. Rant Over.
And none of this “two sides to every story” business, I beg you, gentle reader. The distinction between his side and mine is that I’m right and he’s wrong ;-)
Friday, 13 February 2009
Frumpella Interrupted
With perfect timing – as I was just beginning to move forward – International got in touch.
He sent me a very long, carefully worded and very sweet message explaining how, though he does not want to get back together, he still loves me; and how much he feels for me in a number of ways.
I was chatting to a friend of mine when the message came through, and it just happened to catch my eye but somehow I just knew this message (we’ve remained in touch since The Split) was somehow portentous…
After a quick glance at the content I simply couldn’t talk to my friend any more so left the conversation and headed off to get some wine, instinctively feeling this would take time and booze to assimilate. And so, sitting quite uncomfortably, I began.
It really was a sweet message, recognising that we couldn’t carry on while he was in another relationship he had no intention of ending; and that in his view I deserve someone who could give me 100% of himself 100% of the time.
I wish I could post the message here… but I shan’t because it is not fair on him. And the same holds true of my reply. But in response I did say that as he still loves me so I love him and the process of splitting up is still one we both have to come to terms with. And as for me, I feel in many ways he was too good for me and he deserves every happiness.
It remains to be seen whether we shall truly become friends. International and Darren are probably he only true relationships I’ve had in the last year – or ever when it comes to men; my constant infatuations with this guy or that in the meantime notwithstanding. So it’s not easy for me to understand what is happening or will happen as the two Endings are completely different.
For some reason, strange enough to me to mention here, I’m really angry with Darren. I vaguely suspect he either should have broken up with me properly or not at all… odd though. And I also seem to want to talk to my mother, though relations have been somewhat strained since I came out to her – immediately after Darren abandoned me, actually. Hmm.
As for the rest, I am very very sad tonight which is a pity as otherwise things have been going rather well (and I don’t mean sex, for a change; more about this later )
So forgive me if I stick two fingers up at Valentines Day this year, gentle reader. It’s the Cheerful Fairy’s night off!
He sent me a very long, carefully worded and very sweet message explaining how, though he does not want to get back together, he still loves me; and how much he feels for me in a number of ways.
I was chatting to a friend of mine when the message came through, and it just happened to catch my eye but somehow I just knew this message (we’ve remained in touch since The Split) was somehow portentous…
After a quick glance at the content I simply couldn’t talk to my friend any more so left the conversation and headed off to get some wine, instinctively feeling this would take time and booze to assimilate. And so, sitting quite uncomfortably, I began.
It really was a sweet message, recognising that we couldn’t carry on while he was in another relationship he had no intention of ending; and that in his view I deserve someone who could give me 100% of himself 100% of the time.
I wish I could post the message here… but I shan’t because it is not fair on him. And the same holds true of my reply. But in response I did say that as he still loves me so I love him and the process of splitting up is still one we both have to come to terms with. And as for me, I feel in many ways he was too good for me and he deserves every happiness.
It remains to be seen whether we shall truly become friends. International and Darren are probably he only true relationships I’ve had in the last year – or ever when it comes to men; my constant infatuations with this guy or that in the meantime notwithstanding. So it’s not easy for me to understand what is happening or will happen as the two Endings are completely different.
For some reason, strange enough to me to mention here, I’m really angry with Darren. I vaguely suspect he either should have broken up with me properly or not at all… odd though. And I also seem to want to talk to my mother, though relations have been somewhat strained since I came out to her – immediately after Darren abandoned me, actually. Hmm.
As for the rest, I am very very sad tonight which is a pity as otherwise things have been going rather well (and I don’t mean sex, for a change; more about this later )
So forgive me if I stick two fingers up at Valentines Day this year, gentle reader. It’s the Cheerful Fairy’s night off!
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Scarey
I’m beginning to miss International badly. I feel very lonely; knowing he is out there living while I am left with nothing but to drift on an endless ocean of sex and parties. But then whose fault is that, eh?
I think of the times we shared and I am happy… I think of the times we won’t share and it makes me sad. So then Frumpella is human after all (don’t tell anyone, gentle reader; it can be our secret).
I think of the way he just placidly accepted our break-up, and did not argue with me one jot, and I am sometimes very angry. Yet I want to tell him how much I appreciated our time together and how much they meant to me.
Perhaps wallowing in self-pity is not the best way forward. However, I did once explain to my counsellor – ex counsellor now, finally having lost patience - that every time I met a guy and became infatuated and it didn’t work out for whatever reason it was like falling off a cliff. Except that cliff gets higher and higher with each passing guy until, one day, the cliff will be so high and I shall fall so far that…
Yes I wonder sometimes if I want to carry on with this looking for Mr Right lark. He didn’t turn up on demand which is frankly not what I signed up for. Instant gratification has always, as you might have noticed, been a significant motivating factor for me.
Or perhaps this particular fecund spell of man-flesh is my attempt to distract myself from the emotional side of my Odysseus-like journey home to gayness. I’m still jealous when I see gay couples out and about. I still want that… what they have.
What’s scary about it is that, though I’m stronger than I was, the thought of being fundamentally unlovable is quite an abyss to look into.
I currently worry more than usual I might never find it. It might never, ever happen. And that’s a fact I have to live with. Over the years I pretended I didn’t want it, thus it was all fine. Now I no longer have self-denial as my comfort and shield I have sometimes grappled with the thought that no-one will ever want to be with me because I’m dull and frumpy and missed the bit in school where other people got told how to fall in love and be happy.
The mild distraction of this guy or that is, for all the fun I have, not really enough to cover it all but at the moment thoughts of dating again find me ambivalent. So I know I’ve done nothing but blog about sex recently but bear with me please until normal service from the Cheerful Fairy is restored.
I know I have it within myself to make all the changes I need to; I do know it. So much jolly luck to picking myself up and dusting myself off and once more into the breach, dear friends…
I think of the times we shared and I am happy… I think of the times we won’t share and it makes me sad. So then Frumpella is human after all (don’t tell anyone, gentle reader; it can be our secret).
I think of the way he just placidly accepted our break-up, and did not argue with me one jot, and I am sometimes very angry. Yet I want to tell him how much I appreciated our time together and how much they meant to me.
Perhaps wallowing in self-pity is not the best way forward. However, I did once explain to my counsellor – ex counsellor now, finally having lost patience - that every time I met a guy and became infatuated and it didn’t work out for whatever reason it was like falling off a cliff. Except that cliff gets higher and higher with each passing guy until, one day, the cliff will be so high and I shall fall so far that…
Yes I wonder sometimes if I want to carry on with this looking for Mr Right lark. He didn’t turn up on demand which is frankly not what I signed up for. Instant gratification has always, as you might have noticed, been a significant motivating factor for me.
Or perhaps this particular fecund spell of man-flesh is my attempt to distract myself from the emotional side of my Odysseus-like journey home to gayness. I’m still jealous when I see gay couples out and about. I still want that… what they have.
What’s scary about it is that, though I’m stronger than I was, the thought of being fundamentally unlovable is quite an abyss to look into.
I currently worry more than usual I might never find it. It might never, ever happen. And that’s a fact I have to live with. Over the years I pretended I didn’t want it, thus it was all fine. Now I no longer have self-denial as my comfort and shield I have sometimes grappled with the thought that no-one will ever want to be with me because I’m dull and frumpy and missed the bit in school where other people got told how to fall in love and be happy.
The mild distraction of this guy or that is, for all the fun I have, not really enough to cover it all but at the moment thoughts of dating again find me ambivalent. So I know I’ve done nothing but blog about sex recently but bear with me please until normal service from the Cheerful Fairy is restored.
I know I have it within myself to make all the changes I need to; I do know it. So much jolly luck to picking myself up and dusting myself off and once more into the breach, dear friends…
Saturday, 31 January 2009
NOT dating
I’ve tried half a dozen times to start this post so I think the only way to begin is to explain I can’t seem to find the words to start it proper. Sorry about that gentle reader; bear with me as I try and pull my thoughts together…
Mild confusion I suppose is my defining characteristic at the moment. And the reason for that is:
International and I met on Wednesday. It is hard to believe it had been a month since we’d last made love but we made up for lost time – and in the nice, candlelit dinner fine wine romantic way too. So I really have to admit I surprised myself when, shortly after midnight, I initiated a conversation that resulted in me breaking up with him.
I can’t quite remember word for word what was discussed. But I do remember explaining that I know he was never going to leave Ouch or make the change in his life to be with me; and even if he and Ouch did split up (as International constantly alluded they might) it would not – and should not - be for me or because of me. And at the same time I cannot have “it’s complicated” as my Facebook relationship status forever. I’m 31 and one of my deepest fears is that I’ve sacrificed the best of me pretending to be someone I’m not. Therefore the open ended other-woman situation cannot stand.
A few days later and the thing that sticks most in my mind about International is his placid acceptance of what I said. His failure – refusal, even – to fight for us or what we had. This may be because it hasn’t fully sunk in yet; I have deliberately Put It Away until I had some time to digest and really think (being a Thinker). Perhaps other things will come to the fore when I really give this thing the time it deserves.
I found myself today thinking about the last time we made love and caught myself with a big grin all over my face. And God knows I do love him still – strangely in the short term I suspect this made the deed easier not harder. Right now I’m struggling not to go “I made a terrible mistake. Rewind! Rewind!!”
But there is much to be done before I can announce my total failure to get over him. I need to think about how we were totally versatile in bed; how I flew across a continent to be with him for the first time; all the silly things we did I hadn’t done before…
Well, it is done, and putting it in writing so that my eyes, connected as they are to (amongst other things) my brain, can see and my brain can think will help. As will going out with a good, good friend tonight and getting very, very drunk.
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Infatuation
International and I haven’t ‘been together’ since late December. However, he is due to spend the night with me this coming Wednesday, hopefully to make up for lost time! Truth be told much as I want to see him it is difficult to fit in as it involves giving up time that could be spent working. I probably sound ungrateful to you gentle reader but I’m working so hard at the moment I’m not sure I need to be someone’s spare boyfriend and secret pumpkin!
I remember how much I feel for International and how much we have done over the last four months. My friends tend to just sigh now when I mention him. because without exception they think he isn’t good enough for me. Yet here I am, exactly what I wanted not to be – The Other Woman! Frumpella the gorgeous panting love-slave.
I don’t know what to do for the best at the moment. I have a tendency to get quickly infatuated with this guy or that and International and I have only known each other for a short while so it’s a little early to be dissatisfied with the status quo. But I’m not sure I can be content knowing that International and I have no real future other than continuing like this on and on…
See, being the Other Woman does not really have its compensations. I can’t really rely on him to be there when I need someone, or for him to give me his best. For example, International and I were going to fly to Berlin in April for a holiday. But it seems International can’t afford to use annual leave to be with yours truly so I’ve instead been invited to join him in Brussels next time he’s working there. Saving him time and money – but not really spending any quality time together and thus making me alone with different scenery. Less than ideal; yet can I expect better? And, because I still see others (the compromise for him not being free) I feel guilty, like I’m cheating on International – when it’s Ouch who is the wronged party!
After a few weeks of naughty New Year fun I am beginning to consider going back onto the dating scene again to see if Mr Right is around. Not because I feel less for International, but because the first flush of love is tempered now by a measure of realism.
What I am frightened of is waking up 2, 3, many, lots of years from now having spent precious time on the unattainable instead of fulfilling my needs. And I can’t just carry on with International for fun’s sake because of what I genuinely do feel for him. So what I’m thinking a lot about is ending things now because it’s the lesser of two evils.
But it will be so difficult… and I’m really, really not sure I’m ready. And I'm not sure I'll be ready on Wednesday...
I remember how much I feel for International and how much we have done over the last four months. My friends tend to just sigh now when I mention him. because without exception they think he isn’t good enough for me. Yet here I am, exactly what I wanted not to be – The Other Woman! Frumpella the gorgeous panting love-slave.
I don’t know what to do for the best at the moment. I have a tendency to get quickly infatuated with this guy or that and International and I have only known each other for a short while so it’s a little early to be dissatisfied with the status quo. But I’m not sure I can be content knowing that International and I have no real future other than continuing like this on and on…
See, being the Other Woman does not really have its compensations. I can’t really rely on him to be there when I need someone, or for him to give me his best. For example, International and I were going to fly to Berlin in April for a holiday. But it seems International can’t afford to use annual leave to be with yours truly so I’ve instead been invited to join him in Brussels next time he’s working there. Saving him time and money – but not really spending any quality time together and thus making me alone with different scenery. Less than ideal; yet can I expect better? And, because I still see others (the compromise for him not being free) I feel guilty, like I’m cheating on International – when it’s Ouch who is the wronged party!
After a few weeks of naughty New Year fun I am beginning to consider going back onto the dating scene again to see if Mr Right is around. Not because I feel less for International, but because the first flush of love is tempered now by a measure of realism.
What I am frightened of is waking up 2, 3, many, lots of years from now having spent precious time on the unattainable instead of fulfilling my needs. And I can’t just carry on with International for fun’s sake because of what I genuinely do feel for him. So what I’m thinking a lot about is ending things now because it’s the lesser of two evils.
But it will be so difficult… and I’m really, really not sure I’m ready. And I'm not sure I'll be ready on Wednesday...
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Smooches
I’m at home now, waiting for Sex and The city to come on the tele… as usual I remain very busy at work, frantically trying the get things done. So two 12 hour days in a row and I find myself taking work home – ironically all about the European Working Time Directive. It seems that soon no-one this side of Transylvania will be working more than 48 hours a week; bar yours truly. Good job I love it, eh?
So then no assignations since the weekend, though I have been invited over for a return visit to the guy I met on Saturday. Perhaps tomorrow…
Also today, International and I have been exchanging messages. He has been unhappy for a while and it seems, as usual, absence doth make his heart the fonder; I am, however, insistent that he and I cannot meet until at least the end of the month. Partly because of my business, but partly because of the wobbly time we had over the festive season. It will be four months tomorrow, believe it or not – technically, if somewhat sadly, the second longest relationship that I’ve ever had. The longevity might be explained in part by the fact I only have a part-share in Himself. But also, I think, though I know he’s not really that good for me, he has all the attributes I like!!
On the other hand Christmas and I aren’t going to become boyfriends. It was fun, and in theory – on paper – he’s perfect for me, but I think it’s clear to both of us that it isn’t going to happen. Why?
Well, at the risk of being rude, Christmas… well, he’s a terrible kisser. There: I blogged it.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, turns me on like a good kisser. I’ve always been complimented on my kissing – luckily. While Christmas and International are [were] both enthusiastic and passionate lovers, International is a great kisser. With Christmas – and no, it isn’t fair to go into details, so this is the end about him (in this context), but it really doesn’t work for me.
I wonder what it is about kissing that, and I mean REALLY, turns me on? Perhaps it’s a chicken/egg thing – I’m excited by kissing because of the context in which it occurs. Whatever it is, I really like everything about it: the lips; tongues; the hands (an important part, the hands holding you tight…). I think it’s partly the anticipation of what comes next. Clothes coming off, hands exploring, kisses ever more passionate, and then in bed, on the table, floor, sofa, balcony wherever… It feels a bit like my secret, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same for most people.
So, much as I’m sorry about Christmas, for muches smooches I’m willing to call out happy New Year.
So then no assignations since the weekend, though I have been invited over for a return visit to the guy I met on Saturday. Perhaps tomorrow…
Also today, International and I have been exchanging messages. He has been unhappy for a while and it seems, as usual, absence doth make his heart the fonder; I am, however, insistent that he and I cannot meet until at least the end of the month. Partly because of my business, but partly because of the wobbly time we had over the festive season. It will be four months tomorrow, believe it or not – technically, if somewhat sadly, the second longest relationship that I’ve ever had. The longevity might be explained in part by the fact I only have a part-share in Himself. But also, I think, though I know he’s not really that good for me, he has all the attributes I like!!
On the other hand Christmas and I aren’t going to become boyfriends. It was fun, and in theory – on paper – he’s perfect for me, but I think it’s clear to both of us that it isn’t going to happen. Why?
Well, at the risk of being rude, Christmas… well, he’s a terrible kisser. There: I blogged it.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, turns me on like a good kisser. I’ve always been complimented on my kissing – luckily. While Christmas and International are [were] both enthusiastic and passionate lovers, International is a great kisser. With Christmas – and no, it isn’t fair to go into details, so this is the end about him (in this context), but it really doesn’t work for me.
I wonder what it is about kissing that, and I mean REALLY, turns me on? Perhaps it’s a chicken/egg thing – I’m excited by kissing because of the context in which it occurs. Whatever it is, I really like everything about it: the lips; tongues; the hands (an important part, the hands holding you tight…). I think it’s partly the anticipation of what comes next. Clothes coming off, hands exploring, kisses ever more passionate, and then in bed, on the table, floor, sofa, balcony wherever… It feels a bit like my secret, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same for most people.
So, much as I’m sorry about Christmas, for muches smooches I’m willing to call out happy New Year.
Friday, 9 January 2009
Confused
On Thursday I had my first counselling session of 2009. I really have grown to dislike them and am very seriously thinking of cancelling altogether.
This session involved yet another of those dreadful exercises where, on this occasion, I had to rank the things I seek from causal sexual encounters, and compare that to what I seek from a relationship. This irritated me because of the sub-text that enjoying casual sex – just meeting men for sex, to enjoy new physical experiences and essentially have a stonking great orgasm (or several) - is wrong. Of course I don’t seek a relationship, friendship, security from casual assignations. And the implication I am deficient or defective in my behaviour because of that is, frankly, infuriating.
My counsellor’s concerns, in fairness to him, were founded on the rocky point I have reached with International. He feels that I am much more closed off than I have been before because I feel hurt and my recent assignations are a reversion to past (apparently bad) behaviour.
Nevertheless today International and I met for the first time since his holiday. He wanted to meet because he was feeling pretty low and needed “hugs”. So, somewhat against my better judgement, we met at a gay bar local to my office and, fortunately or unfortunately [take your pick], we were very quickly all over each other and saying how much we love each other. Muches smooches indeed. And so it seems things are, well, something, again.
Now, of course, I’m thoroughly confused. It really has begun to amaze me, the difference between my cold Teutonic intellect and the heart that slowly but surely lays its plans against me.
I adore International, I really do. And in many ways he’s been so good to me. Spain, ice skating… silly though it may read no-one’s done things like that for me before. Yet he has Ouch; Ouch whom he loves and who loves him and they still have sex, and no they really don’t have an open relationship at all… so I’ve become what I didn’t want to be and I get annoyed with my self. And yet, and yet…
On the other hand of course there is Christmas. My counsellor was particularly, almost inordinately some might say, excited by my relationship with Christmas, and for some reason saw the dinner we had between Christmas and New Year as particularly good news. Well, he’s a great guy – not perfect but who wants that?
So the question we have to pose is this: why is it that I am enamoured by someone so manifestly unsuitable in that he will never, can never be ‘mine’; and I am so smitten I am unable to fully seize the opportunity in front of me?
Frumpella's a one man idiot, that's why!
Monday, 29 December 2008
Hoof
I’ve been away gentle reader living it large in London town. A big gay peripatetic one man idiot, ha ha.
On Saturday I went to have dinner with a very good friend and over a vast amount of wine and lovely food we talked well into the early hours, leaving myself somewhat worse for wear for my second date with the guy I met on Christmas Eve.
After such an enjoyable evening my fear of being somewhat unpresentable was enhanced when he asked to meet me earlier than planned. However, as my friend was travelling (hungover, by coach, to Cardiff; a journey even worse in my view than any bad date) I could not really complain about my unfortunate state too much; and, as the coach station is near my office, I realised I could use the facilities there to freshen up. So at 11:30 Christmas and I met, the shadows under my eyes – if not those behind them – scrubbed away.
Christmas and I walked along the South Bank for a bit before stopping for a coffee at the British Film Institute. After coffee we went back to his place for a rather noisier occasion than we allowed ourselves on Christmas Eve...
Although we spent hours and hours together I couldn’t really spend the night as Christmas was going to work at 5am. He’s a television journalist and travels a lot. However, I was anyway due to meet International for drinks on the occasion of his return to London after a few days with his family, so that worked out OK.
At this point of course I’d had about one hour’s sleep in the last 36 and really was keen for an early night whatever else happened and after a mediocre Italian meal in Notting Hill we headed back to his place.
Unfortunately it was a somewhat bad-tempered date as things are still a bit awkward between us and being somewhat tired I was also quite irritable too. The problem, I have realised, with International is that he thinks too little of me; and ‘us’. Of course this makes me sensitive and, lacking emotional maturity as much as I am bed rest, this was not good.
We didn’t have a row as such but I felt bad for not being scintillating company and had a restless night. Yet many of the clouds were lifted in the sunlight and we had a nice Monday morning together over a lazy breakfast. I did some work from his place before he needed to head out, and I made my way home.
So where are we? A quiet night in, I think, for me before I get my head down and get some work done over the next few days. International is going to Florida for two weeks with his real boyfriend. And Christmas and I have our third date on New Years Day (dinner at my place, etc).
On Saturday I went to have dinner with a very good friend and over a vast amount of wine and lovely food we talked well into the early hours, leaving myself somewhat worse for wear for my second date with the guy I met on Christmas Eve.
After such an enjoyable evening my fear of being somewhat unpresentable was enhanced when he asked to meet me earlier than planned. However, as my friend was travelling (hungover, by coach, to Cardiff; a journey even worse in my view than any bad date) I could not really complain about my unfortunate state too much; and, as the coach station is near my office, I realised I could use the facilities there to freshen up. So at 11:30 Christmas and I met, the shadows under my eyes – if not those behind them – scrubbed away.
Christmas and I walked along the South Bank for a bit before stopping for a coffee at the British Film Institute. After coffee we went back to his place for a rather noisier occasion than we allowed ourselves on Christmas Eve...
Although we spent hours and hours together I couldn’t really spend the night as Christmas was going to work at 5am. He’s a television journalist and travels a lot. However, I was anyway due to meet International for drinks on the occasion of his return to London after a few days with his family, so that worked out OK.
At this point of course I’d had about one hour’s sleep in the last 36 and really was keen for an early night whatever else happened and after a mediocre Italian meal in Notting Hill we headed back to his place.
Unfortunately it was a somewhat bad-tempered date as things are still a bit awkward between us and being somewhat tired I was also quite irritable too. The problem, I have realised, with International is that he thinks too little of me; and ‘us’. Of course this makes me sensitive and, lacking emotional maturity as much as I am bed rest, this was not good.
We didn’t have a row as such but I felt bad for not being scintillating company and had a restless night. Yet many of the clouds were lifted in the sunlight and we had a nice Monday morning together over a lazy breakfast. I did some work from his place before he needed to head out, and I made my way home.
So where are we? A quiet night in, I think, for me before I get my head down and get some work done over the next few days. International is going to Florida for two weeks with his real boyfriend. And Christmas and I have our third date on New Years Day (dinner at my place, etc).
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Merry Christmas
Frohes Weinachten; Joyeux Noel; Season’s Greetings gentle reader.
‘T’ got in touch with me the other day and we tried to arrange a get together but sadly we could not arrange any Christmas cheer. So on 23 December I met a few friends for drinks, picked up a Chinese takeaway and had an early night. I sent International a text explaining how I feel, which – in the light of no reply – was probably ill advised.
The early night was certainly advised, however, as on Christmas eve was my date! We met at Bar Museé and, hitting it off, went to the Rose and Crown (which is a gay pub in Greenwich) for more getting to know each other.
And from there… well, we really did hit it off so of course we went back to his place for some festive fun.
What was sweet was the fact that he had friends coming over later for Christmas and rather than kicking me out after the fact, as it were, he invited me to stay and meet them. So we cracked open the wine I bought for my Christmas, he, his friends and I had a lovely dinner and as the evening wore on got progressively worse for wear until, in the early hours of Christmas Day, we went to bed. And we even managed to get some sleep ;-)
At about 11am today I made my move, and he walked me part of the way home. No public transport on Christmas Day so I did end up walking for hours! But now I have the seal of approval of his friends and date two will be Sunday evening… so, who knows? I’m determined just to let things happen on their own; although I do think it was nice of him to introduce me to his friends and let me take up so much of his Christmas.
As for International; a very dear friend insists he needs to be ‘chinned’ and as I know more of the people she’s slept with than I know people I’ve slept with (if you see what I mean) I think we’re close enough to give her views some credence!
I’m not going to go into the New Year moping over International. I still care as deeply as ever but I always guessed the only way forward would be to let him go. I love him but perhaps I need to love me more! Actually I feel guilty it isn’t working out, but I’m still learning – I have very little relationship experience still, and International perhaps has a little too much. Ho hum, onward to 2009!
And for you; thank you for reading. Merry Christmas.
Sunday, 21 December 2008
Undefined
A lot has happened in the last 24 hours, gentle reader, so it is time to think aloud once more and subject the ether to my musings…
Last night I went to my neighbour for cocktails and nibbles and Sex and the City and after many, many margaritas, I stumbled home and decided in a fit of whimsy to update my Facebook profile from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘it’s complicated’.
Virtually immediately Nick got in touch and suggested he come over for a drink, DVD etc. Classic modus operandi for him; get in touch in the early hours; suggest we watch a film; watch about 1/3 of said film; end up in bed. Last night’s booty call was no different.
It was, however, nice to hear from him and to be honest it was a welcome distraction from the events of the day. Nick spent the night, and we had more fun on the Sunday morning before he had to go to a lunch, and I had to go to Eltham for my pre-arranged assignation.
That was fun, oh yes, and I am very, very tired now. Back at home I contemplated procuring shag number four of the weekend but there was not much interest in little old me on gaydar (I really must refresh my profile), and to be fair I’m not sure how well I would have acquitted myself give my recent exertions! Certainly Eltham is keen to meet again, but right now I am drained!!
So, shag, shag but not all shag, gentle reader: oh no. Because Interspersed among all this were messages to and from International.
He said he hadn’t slept well last night, thinking about his life, and us. And to quote him “All I can say to you is that I have fallen for you. I love you and care about you so much. It is not just about the sex for me. I want to do the right thing for you as well as the right thing for me and if we are both getting stressed about it, that's not good is it?” He also agreed ‘it’s complicated’ was a fair assessment!
In my reply I advised him not to feel bad as it was a useful discussion we had and clarified things a lot. I said we were still seeing each other, and I for one am not getting stressed; we will just have to see how things go.
How do I feel? I don’t know yet. I’m probably going to have to go through some kind of five stages process to get my head round it all. There’s a bit of denial going on; he still loves me so it’s all OK right? But I know the situation has changed and while we are still together the value of together has shifted to something as yet undefined...
Last night I went to my neighbour for cocktails and nibbles and Sex and the City and after many, many margaritas, I stumbled home and decided in a fit of whimsy to update my Facebook profile from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘it’s complicated’.
Virtually immediately Nick got in touch and suggested he come over for a drink, DVD etc. Classic modus operandi for him; get in touch in the early hours; suggest we watch a film; watch about 1/3 of said film; end up in bed. Last night’s booty call was no different.
It was, however, nice to hear from him and to be honest it was a welcome distraction from the events of the day. Nick spent the night, and we had more fun on the Sunday morning before he had to go to a lunch, and I had to go to Eltham for my pre-arranged assignation.
That was fun, oh yes, and I am very, very tired now. Back at home I contemplated procuring shag number four of the weekend but there was not much interest in little old me on gaydar (I really must refresh my profile), and to be fair I’m not sure how well I would have acquitted myself give my recent exertions! Certainly Eltham is keen to meet again, but right now I am drained!!
So, shag, shag but not all shag, gentle reader: oh no. Because Interspersed among all this were messages to and from International.
He said he hadn’t slept well last night, thinking about his life, and us. And to quote him “All I can say to you is that I have fallen for you. I love you and care about you so much. It is not just about the sex for me. I want to do the right thing for you as well as the right thing for me and if we are both getting stressed about it, that's not good is it?” He also agreed ‘it’s complicated’ was a fair assessment!
In my reply I advised him not to feel bad as it was a useful discussion we had and clarified things a lot. I said we were still seeing each other, and I for one am not getting stressed; we will just have to see how things go.
How do I feel? I don’t know yet. I’m probably going to have to go through some kind of five stages process to get my head round it all. There’s a bit of denial going on; he still loves me so it’s all OK right? But I know the situation has changed and while we are still together the value of together has shifted to something as yet undefined...
Saturday, 20 December 2008
Monday, 15 December 2008
Zeitgeist
Yeah, when I said I was busy before… well, now I’m busier. I wish I could talk in detail about what I had to do today, but I can’t. It would bore you gentle reader; and more of that would be unforgivable. Fortunately this is my last week before Christmas and the break will do me good.
Now I’m home, and I’m (as always) missing my man. We exchanged the customary texts and emails today, as I complained about my day and enquired about his. And as we communicated I became more and more worried about him.
I’m not worried for Us, understand. But International is really down at the moment and of course one thing about our situation is that I can’t be there to do something about it. He says that all I need to do to cheer him up is smile the next time I see him. Of course, when he says that it makes me feel great. Nevertheless, he’s quite depressed – hopefully I’m not part of the reason (I don’t actually think I am); but that’s not the thing.
This is the thing: how do I be a good boyfriend when I can’t be there for him? OK, it’s not that I’m stuck working on an oil rig somewhere. And he has Ouch to keep him warm. Not a prospect that pleases me but I suppose I have to trust him to do what’s right for him, us, to take care of himself.
So here I am, tired, worried, having a very ill-advised glass of wine, thinking. Regular readers might know that I get quite insecure about things. I can’t be there. Ouch can be there, and no I don’t like that one bit. But it’s his… right I suppose. If International has to deal with the tough times all by himself what use am I? The occasional fuck? That’s not what I mortgaged my heart for. In fact this is exactly what I mean when I describe the difference between love and sex. I’m not just having a clandestine affair; I really do love him and it genuinely scares me to think I might inadvertently let him down (in rather more than the usual day to day way, I mean).
The whole point, in my view, of a relationship is the support and sharing and building a life together. I get infatuated and insecure, absolutely. I have no experience at this, not really. I think that just wishing I could help ain’t gonna cut it. Lucky my next counselling session on Thursday will be about relationships. Lots for me, in my self-destructive gorgeousness, to talk about!
Now I’m home, and I’m (as always) missing my man. We exchanged the customary texts and emails today, as I complained about my day and enquired about his. And as we communicated I became more and more worried about him.
I’m not worried for Us, understand. But International is really down at the moment and of course one thing about our situation is that I can’t be there to do something about it. He says that all I need to do to cheer him up is smile the next time I see him. Of course, when he says that it makes me feel great. Nevertheless, he’s quite depressed – hopefully I’m not part of the reason (I don’t actually think I am); but that’s not the thing.
This is the thing: how do I be a good boyfriend when I can’t be there for him? OK, it’s not that I’m stuck working on an oil rig somewhere. And he has Ouch to keep him warm. Not a prospect that pleases me but I suppose I have to trust him to do what’s right for him, us, to take care of himself.
So here I am, tired, worried, having a very ill-advised glass of wine, thinking. Regular readers might know that I get quite insecure about things. I can’t be there. Ouch can be there, and no I don’t like that one bit. But it’s his… right I suppose. If International has to deal with the tough times all by himself what use am I? The occasional fuck? That’s not what I mortgaged my heart for. In fact this is exactly what I mean when I describe the difference between love and sex. I’m not just having a clandestine affair; I really do love him and it genuinely scares me to think I might inadvertently let him down (in rather more than the usual day to day way, I mean).
The whole point, in my view, of a relationship is the support and sharing and building a life together. I get infatuated and insecure, absolutely. I have no experience at this, not really. I think that just wishing I could help ain’t gonna cut it. Lucky my next counselling session on Thursday will be about relationships. Lots for me, in my self-destructive gorgeousness, to talk about!
Thursday, 11 December 2008
Olympic
International took me ice skating last night! We went to the Natural History Museum and went on the ice outside there. It was tremendous fun; I’d never been ice skating before. Thus I fell over, a lot, and today have sore arms and legs and appear to have come perilously close to a groin strain. Tee Hee. It was so sweet of him to treat me; and of him to hold my hand as I skittered hither and thither across the ice, scaring no small number of people along the way (to his intense amusement; in some cultures I might be expected to marry some of the people I blundered into. All a bit embarassing).
Afterward we went to Earls Court for a lovely Chinese meal and smooches in a ‘friendly’ venue – but that had been transformed since International’s last visit into a gastro-pub. So back to the retro bar for us it was to end the evening off.
It was a wonderful evening and he was so nice. He held my hand wherever we walked and told me how much he loved me. I don't deserve* such treatment
Of course our conversation turned to our situation, if only briefly. International did see to be a bit annoyed that I was so tolerant of the status quo; but I explained that (a) pressurising him to make a change would not be nice (b) it would not be healthy for our relationship and (c) I wouldn’t want him to precipitately take action he’d regret. In part that last one comes from an uncertainty that I can yet compete with the six-figure earning suave and sophisticated Frenchman. After all, I can barely spell (see last post!).
But, but, but, what a great night. The way he makes me feel really helps me get through the tough times – and right now things are a bit tough with the sheer volume of work if nothing else. I’m going to have to sit my employers down and see if we can get rid of at least two of my nine projects. Just so you know - accident and emergency; trauma and orthopaedics; mental health; workforce strategy; patient and public awareness; patient surveys; primary care development; annual planning for 09/10; and day to day oversight of about nine hospitals. Not that I’m showing off ;-)
Yes, love is grand.
International and I will hopefully be having muches smooches and double plus more on Saturday, oh fingers so very crossed gentle reader. On that occasion I will be cunningly disguised as an errand for an elderly aunt. But I don’t mind. I’m totally loved up right now. And it really, really makes it all worthwhile.
Afterward we went to Earls Court for a lovely Chinese meal and smooches in a ‘friendly’ venue – but that had been transformed since International’s last visit into a gastro-pub. So back to the retro bar for us it was to end the evening off.
It was a wonderful evening and he was so nice. He held my hand wherever we walked and told me how much he loved me. I don't deserve* such treatment
Of course our conversation turned to our situation, if only briefly. International did see to be a bit annoyed that I was so tolerant of the status quo; but I explained that (a) pressurising him to make a change would not be nice (b) it would not be healthy for our relationship and (c) I wouldn’t want him to precipitately take action he’d regret. In part that last one comes from an uncertainty that I can yet compete with the six-figure earning suave and sophisticated Frenchman. After all, I can barely spell (see last post!).
But, but, but, what a great night. The way he makes me feel really helps me get through the tough times – and right now things are a bit tough with the sheer volume of work if nothing else. I’m going to have to sit my employers down and see if we can get rid of at least two of my nine projects. Just so you know - accident and emergency; trauma and orthopaedics; mental health; workforce strategy; patient and public awareness; patient surveys; primary care development; annual planning for 09/10; and day to day oversight of about nine hospitals. Not that I’m showing off ;-)
Yes, love is grand.
International and I will hopefully be having muches smooches and double plus more on Saturday, oh fingers so very crossed gentle reader. On that occasion I will be cunningly disguised as an errand for an elderly aunt. But I don’t mind. I’m totally loved up right now. And it really, really makes it all worthwhile.
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Onward and upward
Wow! It is so busy at work it is unreal. 8 till 6 and no lunch… we can but hope things ease up soon. But I won’t bore you with that today gentle reader, oh no. For there are other things afoot.
This evening I had another counselling session and today’s theme was ‘being gay’. My counsellor wanted to explore my earliest sexual experiences. Unfortunately I was in a very reticent mood and not willing to discuss in detail. I think it had been a long day. So he kept trying to prompt me and things got more disturbing by the second. No, I was not 13; no he was not in the navy… nasty. He did, however, also want to talk a lot about International and he remains resolute that three months is very little time really and I should keep seeing other men if I want too. Poor International! The whole world rails against my self-enforced monogamy. Yet monogamous I remain.
My counsellor also keeps going on about how gorgeous I am which, whilst undoubtedly true (honest Guv’), is going a bit above and beyond the call and has begun to make me somewhat uncomfortable. On the plus side, however, he assures me one day my prince will come – and I contrarily argue that I must accept the possibility that he might not (not wishing to assume International is said prince).
Tomorrow International is whisking me off for a surprise of some sort. I think I’ve guessed what it is; but I shall reveal all later. It certainly involves something outdoors. How intriguing! How exciting. It’s nice that he’s planning something spontaneous and romantic. N-one;s ever done that before for me. It has me all a-quiver.
And Thursday I have a client, hurrah. I doubt a high paying one but the work they want me to do is embarrassingly light and at least I shall have something to put in my brand-spanking-new business account. This will give me a reason to leave the office early; which will also allow me to pick up my wine order which has finally arrived. Any fans of Management Buzzword Bingo will cringe at phrases like ‘synergy’ but when it works…
And Friday, a good friend’s leaving do – jumping the same ship I did a few months ago. I foresee a good time will be had by all, and that Saturday will be a very miserable day indeed ;-)
A week on today is the three month anniversary. This means International is officially my second longest lasting boyfriend ever. I’m wondering whether to do something to mark it. Month one was Spain; month two was his birthday. This time it’s Christmas. Well, I shall wait for inspiration to strike. In the meantime a well deserved glass of wine for and the never ever-lasting embrace of my bed…
This evening I had another counselling session and today’s theme was ‘being gay’. My counsellor wanted to explore my earliest sexual experiences. Unfortunately I was in a very reticent mood and not willing to discuss in detail. I think it had been a long day. So he kept trying to prompt me and things got more disturbing by the second. No, I was not 13; no he was not in the navy… nasty. He did, however, also want to talk a lot about International and he remains resolute that three months is very little time really and I should keep seeing other men if I want too. Poor International! The whole world rails against my self-enforced monogamy. Yet monogamous I remain.
My counsellor also keeps going on about how gorgeous I am which, whilst undoubtedly true (honest Guv’), is going a bit above and beyond the call and has begun to make me somewhat uncomfortable. On the plus side, however, he assures me one day my prince will come – and I contrarily argue that I must accept the possibility that he might not (not wishing to assume International is said prince).
Tomorrow International is whisking me off for a surprise of some sort. I think I’ve guessed what it is; but I shall reveal all later. It certainly involves something outdoors. How intriguing! How exciting. It’s nice that he’s planning something spontaneous and romantic. N-one;s ever done that before for me. It has me all a-quiver.
And Thursday I have a client, hurrah. I doubt a high paying one but the work they want me to do is embarrassingly light and at least I shall have something to put in my brand-spanking-new business account. This will give me a reason to leave the office early; which will also allow me to pick up my wine order which has finally arrived. Any fans of Management Buzzword Bingo will cringe at phrases like ‘synergy’ but when it works…
And Friday, a good friend’s leaving do – jumping the same ship I did a few months ago. I foresee a good time will be had by all, and that Saturday will be a very miserable day indeed ;-)
A week on today is the three month anniversary. This means International is officially my second longest lasting boyfriend ever. I’m wondering whether to do something to mark it. Month one was Spain; month two was his birthday. This time it’s Christmas. Well, I shall wait for inspiration to strike. In the meantime a well deserved glass of wine for and the never ever-lasting embrace of my bed…
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Loose end
Harrumph. Harrumph I say! For it’s the weekend and I am at a loose end. All dressed down and nowhere to go.
I blame International for this intolerable state of affairs; if I were not in a relationship with him – or at least still casting a roving eye – then I could roam across the internet and meet guys for some double plus naughty fun. But no, that option is closed to me. In my mind’s eye I picture he and Ouch getting up to all manner of fun; shopping, the cinema… smooches? Grrr! Advantage, International. While I sit here alone. Harrumph.
Of course there are things I could do – the distinction between having things to do and boredom has been the subject of many a frank discussion with past employers over the years – but writing all my Christmas cards and tidying up my YouTube favourites etc seem like chores.
So, I am in a relationship; and the duller for it then. I will admit, as we head for our three month anniversary, that the initial headlong rush is calming down a bit, as is only to be expected. But it’s nice to replace that with getting to know him better and find out more. We really don’t know much about each other at all well right now, which makes this romance all the more preposterous. But when he was here last we did talk and I learned more about him and his upbringing and family. Make no mistake, I still crave his presence in my arms and the thought of him is guaranteed to put a smile on my face. Oh dear, Mike’s got it bad!
We continue to text or message each other several times a day. But as yet we have not fixed a time/day when we will see each other again. I am pretty sure we’ll have at least a day together before Christmas – which of course isn’t enough, so we’ll have to arrange something more then, won’t we?
I’m hoping for a subscription to The Economist from International for Christmas; I dropped some pretty heavy hints. Like “buy me a subscription to The Economist for Christmas”. So we will see. Today I bought for myself a subscription to Gay Times and Men’s Health, so there’ll be plenty to oggle while I wait for my brain to be stimulated. In the New Year I am keen to properly tackle my body and get some proper rippling gorgeousness going – I dare but whisper it really, but there is a hint (just a hint) of a six-pack after all my weight loss. Oh yes, gentle reader, we likey.
As for the portion weekend that remains: dinner, wine, and (one of my favourite shows ever) the West Wing.
I blame International for this intolerable state of affairs; if I were not in a relationship with him – or at least still casting a roving eye – then I could roam across the internet and meet guys for some double plus naughty fun. But no, that option is closed to me. In my mind’s eye I picture he and Ouch getting up to all manner of fun; shopping, the cinema… smooches? Grrr! Advantage, International. While I sit here alone. Harrumph.
Of course there are things I could do – the distinction between having things to do and boredom has been the subject of many a frank discussion with past employers over the years – but writing all my Christmas cards and tidying up my YouTube favourites etc seem like chores.
So, I am in a relationship; and the duller for it then. I will admit, as we head for our three month anniversary, that the initial headlong rush is calming down a bit, as is only to be expected. But it’s nice to replace that with getting to know him better and find out more. We really don’t know much about each other at all well right now, which makes this romance all the more preposterous. But when he was here last we did talk and I learned more about him and his upbringing and family. Make no mistake, I still crave his presence in my arms and the thought of him is guaranteed to put a smile on my face. Oh dear, Mike’s got it bad!
We continue to text or message each other several times a day. But as yet we have not fixed a time/day when we will see each other again. I am pretty sure we’ll have at least a day together before Christmas – which of course isn’t enough, so we’ll have to arrange something more then, won’t we?
I’m hoping for a subscription to The Economist from International for Christmas; I dropped some pretty heavy hints. Like “buy me a subscription to The Economist for Christmas”. So we will see. Today I bought for myself a subscription to Gay Times and Men’s Health, so there’ll be plenty to oggle while I wait for my brain to be stimulated. In the New Year I am keen to properly tackle my body and get some proper rippling gorgeousness going – I dare but whisper it really, but there is a hint (just a hint) of a six-pack after all my weight loss. Oh yes, gentle reader, we likey.
As for the portion weekend that remains: dinner, wine, and (one of my favourite shows ever) the West Wing.
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