I am presently guilty. Ted is Mr. Friend Now when we both need one. I don't know where he stands with me, but he often calls me "Hon" and I sometimes call him "Sweetie."
It feels false and true simultaneously. We do share some wavelengths somewhere when they're not colliding.
We went to a party over the weekend, rode together. Well, I made him drive. My gas tank was empty and I didn't want to fill it just yet. He balked, but I didn't care. It was typical, me making a conscious decision not to be eternally generous, forcing his cheap ass to step up. Then he said, "Oh, I get it. You just want to get drunk." I honestly had not considered that angle, but hey! it worked for me...
I told him well in advance that we would not act like a couple, that I had decided months ago I didn't want anyone to know about my relationships within the group in order to try to avoid anyone categorizing or judging me. He has an intense need for privacy, so he understood. And he behaved. Until the wee hours, we barely talked, well entertained by the others. I figure I talk to him all the time anyway. Then he started using my darts as I finished off bottle #4 on the couch nearby...
You know, when you go to a wine tasting, it is very handy to like a bottle that nobody else cared for, especially when there's a lot remaining.
By the way, why does he have his mouth opens in pictures all the time? He's like a loud adult brat and then it all makes sense when you learn he has ADHD. It took me a while to realize he definitely has a soft side, too.
I got naughty and smoked a cigarette, which he had to capture digitally as it is so repulsive to him. Truth be told, you wouldn't think a single cigarette would smell so damn nasty the next morning. I need to not do that. Even my cat rejected me. Ted said I looked like a pro, acting like he refused to believe that the last time I smoked was a quarter ago and the previous time was over a year before that. To say I'm casual would be an overstatement...
I do miss those little Thompson iguana green cigars I used to smoke at tailgating with that other guy, though.
We got back to Ted's house very early in the morning, some of the last to leave the party. We had regular, penetrative, non-Clintonian sex for the first time. I knew ahead of time he's Mr. From Behind and that really doesn't do a lot for me. The next morning, Miss Grind It Out On Top was told I needed to move more, or else it would deflate.
Hmmm.
Not the best thing to hear as I rode him for the first time after waiting three months. Just in the last few years, I finally got my style down and know what my finicky body wants. I'm not easy in that regard. I do not want to change what I've cultivated.
We are incompatible. But I'm hanging in there. It's something to do for us both that doesn't feel like settling either. In fact, I met his demented mother Sunday evening after she'd complained she'd had a lonely Easter. She liked me (I think because I talked to her like an adult instead of a toddler, but that was a liberty I could take - plus I gave her jelly beans) and she kept asking him my name afterwards. I knew she wouldn't remember me, so it wasn't the usually momentous occasion.
Nothing is quite straightforward.
5 comments:
I used to be a smoker, and when I'm drinking I still miss it. The rest of the time, though, I remember why I don't. There's nothing worse than a reformed smoker.
Oh, the fucking, fucking, the fucking! Sorry, I got carried away! No cigarettes before or after, though, they're nasty! I should know. Reformed smoker, but not a reformed griper!
Like the photo of you smiling! You know me, always smiling!
You could have told his Mom about his deflating. Now THAT I'm sure she would remember.
I still like the smile best!
Ron,
You're less pervy than I thought. I really thought the tit shot was the draw.
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