#noideawhatwearedoing

[ryannims]

Pam and I have been experimenting with mixology—specifically Martinis. Pam’s are better. My dirty martini (stirred, not shaken) tastes like olive brine with a little gin botanical on the back end. #NoIdeaWhatWeAreDoing #ButItIsFunAnyway https://www.instagram.com/p/CJmvgiChB8y/?igshid=kvpeawn7vhmo

[likerandomandstuff]

Can't wait to see you today! Love you seester! 😘 #tbt #seester #noideawhatwearedoing #theelderly

[peachykeenregimechange]

Like I Fucking Know

Having never figured out how to “succeed” at life, I tread lightly in matters of love. By that, I mean utter paralysis. A celibate journey of self esteem emmolation and, eventually, rebuilding some semblance of a good, if insular, life. Financial and career goals always sacrificed to the comfortable gods of inertia.

Love, dating, romance and sex remained a juggernaut better left alone. While exploring lots of alone time, self pleasure, hobbies and building very strong non-romantic relationships, I settled into a groove for which I have no regrets. My life was under some kind of semi-organized chaos. That time spent with the close circle of people in my life shaped me in ways I am still discovering bits of daily. 12 years of celibacy and being single actually saved me. Was I lonely? Yes. And no.

About 2.5 years ago, I went to my sibling’s birthday party and met a guy, Karaoke Guy. This was great: he was attentive, funny, sweet and a great diversion. We made out and that was that. 6 months later, he came to my birthday party and another lip lock repeat.

After that, I saw him on and off just out at karaoke. We sort of made plans occasionally and would smooch drunkenly at karaoke bars. We texted a bit and I knew he was into me. I wasn’t ready/willing/able to do more than just chill and kiss and I was straightforward about it. But I loved flirting with him and he could tease me out of my house when others had failed. But it never went anywhere serious. He never pushed or tried to pressure me into anything other than hanging out which made him easy to be around. He seemed to want to be my friend more than anything and that is something I can invest in and respect.

Cut to last year, probably around September, I met someone who loves to read books and is female and made me laugh. The female part has always been more my speed when it came to dating. Being queer for me allowed me to circumvent the lifetime of issues I’ve had not only with patriarchy, but the myriad of uncomfortable situations with males in my past. She was funny and I felt awesome around her at first. We started dating! I was doing the thing! But I never stopped going out with Karaoke Guy. I generally identify as a non monogamous, so I had made that clear to her and she knew that I was seeing other people. And honestly I wouldn’t say he and I were dating as much as making out at karaoke. And texting.

Through that whole thing of me trying to figure out how to even date like a normal human person, Karaoke Boy stuck around and we continued to see each other here and there. He listened to me talk about some of my issues dating again and never once pushed the issue of his interest in me. Nor did he hide it. I started freaking out while I was dating the Girl because I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I was going crazy because I couldn’t figure out how to just be casual and have fun. Everything seemed loaded with intention or meanings that I was either missing or misinterpreting.

After a fairly disastrous (for me, anyway) Valentine’s Day date, I realized it wasn’t going to work. Because as much as I liked her, I didn’t like her as much as she liked me. And after the end of February, it pretty much dissolved. And none of it was because there was anything wrong with her. Or with me. It just wasn’t going to work. Luckily, we’re still on friendly terms or at least not enemies which is definitely my preference in ending a relationship.

Then, in March, I found myself thinking of Karaoke Boy a lot more often. How much fun I had with him we were together. Wanting him around but not really admitting it to myself. This went on for several months. Then, at the end of June, some kind of switch flipped in my brain. I showed up at karaoke on a night he wasn’t supposed to be there and wanted to see him more than anyone else. So I hit him up hard, throwing a lot more flirt and a lot more pressure than I had ever done in the past two years, just to get him to show up.

And he fucking showed up. And everything changed. I actually took him home with me that night and we just slept after a lovely and insanely passionate makeout session. And I realized I wanted him to be there that’s all. Not just there in that moment, but with me. My entire fucking body turned on which is not something I had ever imagined would happen to me again. I’m frankly not even sure it happened to me that way before, ever. I wanted him head to toe, heart to soul.

You have to understand that spending over a decade celibate and mostly single, I started to look at love and sex in an intellectual way. Most of this perspective was devoid of an understanding of the chemicals and emotions and utter rush that comes with starting to fall for somebody. I was utterly and absolutely intoxicated with it. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t hesitant or scared and I found myself plowing forward into unknown territory.

I fell in love. I fell in love really damn hard. And fast. Blinded by this rush of chemicals and emotions, I confessed feelings of love within a week of that first crazy night. I felt no hesitation to do so, which is the part that still kind of amazes me. The sentiment was reciprocated and I felt a kind of utter bliss take over. We started spending a whole bunch of time together and building something that I’m still not sure exactly what it is. Find myself craving the voice, the smell, the very presence of another person more than I’ve ever done in my whole life. And I realized I had never fallen in love before, not really. Having been a reader ever since I can remember comma it is quite odd to take love from the theoretical and feel it in practice.

Not even a month has passed and I have no idea what I’m doing. The best part about it is that he has no idea what he’s doing either. Not being young anymore, we don’t feel the need to pretend like we do. We both admit that one of the things that works about us is that we “know that we know not a thing.”

Just a few weeks in, I find myself having the doubts and fears of having made myself so vulnerable, thoughts that he was having a week ago. Hell, he may still be having those thoughts. I wasn’t, until now. Only now actually realizing how badly I can actually be hurt for the first time, maybe in my whole life, is quite unsettling.

So, we’ll have to just see how these things work out. Watch how all the pieces fall and hope that the puzzle is actually something pretty to look at in the end. But the best part, is, no matter what happens in the end, I’m in love. And I feel loved. And I’m realizing that those two things are pretty amazing.

Love is pretty awesome.