Well, it’s been four weeks now since I’ve heard from Vash.  Lying sack of shit. 

How disappointing.  Not terribly surprising, but really fucking disappointing.

could be

Dev thinks that Vash is a jerk.  He very well might be.  I’ve definitely let my opinion of him be colored a bit too much by the all-too-brief fabulousness of our encounters last year, and some tiny lovely moments in more recent times.

Also, though, I probably overreact to some of his behavior.  Every small thing that isn’t overwhelmingly positive feels like a rejection to me.  If it’s been two or three days since he’s called, I start thinking that he doesn’t really want to date me at all, and that he’s never going to call me again.  Part of the problem with the relationship, such as it is, with him is that I need practically constant reassurance.  And even if he wasn’t probably a jerk, I know that would not be his bag anyway, he would find the neediness too stifling.

The friend I talked with the other night thinks I should just forget about him and find someone better, that I don’t really like him anyway, that I just like the idea of him, the could-bes and the fantasy of the relationship we could have if he actually gave a crap.  There is some truth in that.  The little tastes that I’ve had, the glimpses of the wonderfulness that is possible with him are incredibly seductive, but much too rare.

some of what I want to say

You seem to want “us” to be something far more infrequent and casual, and maybe nonexistant, than I do.  It’s been two weeks now since I heard from you last.  You don’t answer or return my carefully spaced phone calls, emails, or text messages.  And you’re the one who said that you “care about” me and want me in your life, you’re the one who said you wanted this to be a long-term relationship.  Apparently you and I have different definitions of the word “relationship.” 

You are incomprehensible to me.  The thankful tears and clinging hug, and the achingly tender look at the retreat in May just do not match up with most of the rest of your actions toward me. You are a bundle of mixed signals, and I cannot even begin to try to unravel your true feelings or intentions. 

I talked to a friend about all of this last night, and she probably summed it up pretty well: you’re a good guy with a lot of baggage, who will say what you think I want to hear because you don’t like confrontations or the thought of hurting someone. 

But I gotta say, the gradual let-down technique for ending relationships is not the way to go with me (nor is ignoring me until you have nothing better to do – you know I do not want to be some girl you fuck and forget about when I’m gone), and I thought I made that pretty clear in May.  I prefer a quick stab to a slow poisoning.  Don’t ruin the good memories I have of you.  And do me a favor and give me the respect I deserve by being as upfront and unflinchingly honest with me as I am with you.

If you want me to be a part of your life, let me in.  If not, do us both a favor and just fucking own up.

fatal flaw

I wish Neko would let herself be a part of my family. 

Tonight, as she’s done so often, she refused an invitation to dinner at my dad’s house.  I told her that we were making dinner, and she seemed interested, but when I called to tell her it was almost ready and that she should come over, all of a sudden she didn’t want to.  “I’m in my pajamas, ” was her reply.  I think she deliberately (or maybe subconsciously) didn’t shower or get dressed, so she would have some excuse, even though she knew about the dinner all day.  “It’s nothing against your dad or you, I’m just not in the mood to be around people right now.”  Funny, how every time an opportunity comes to do something with my family, she’s just not in the mood.

I know it’s hurtful to them. My parents have been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, the few times she’s given them the chance.  They mess up pronouns occassionally, but they try harder than she realizes.  They don’t really understand or empathize with her transexuality, but they accept her anyway, and want to love her.

I feel like it’s selfish of her to keep the distance from my family.  She just doesn’t want to make the effort for me, just like she never wants to make any sort of effort for me that isn’t directly beneficial to her in some way.

On Halloween when I was upset that she went off without telling me and left me alone when we were supposed to be having fun on the holiday, I talked to a couple of her new friends when I was trying to find out where she was.  I said that I thought she was being thoughtless and inconsiderate and that I was pissed off, and they thought I was overreacting.  They defended her, and all I could think was, “If only you knew her as well as I do,” and I wondered how long it would take before they would realize her true colors, or if they ever would.

I don’t understand how I can love and be with someone who only ever sees things from her own point of view, who isn’t willing to go out of her way for me in anything, who only does things that are to her own benefit.  It’s a huge, hurtful character flaw, and one that I always told myself I wouldn’t tolerate in a partner.  And yet I do, and I have for more than two years now.  Somehow when we’re together, I can’t stay angry at her.  One of those mysteries of love, I guess.  Meh.

a thought for Vash

You seem to want me in your life in a mostly superficial way, and I’m having trouble adjusting my desires(?)expectations(?) to match that reality.

 

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elusive simplicity

I was thinking last night that I don’t know how to be sexually assertive unless I’m in a relationship with an established power dynamic.

For some reason, it’s often very hard for me to ask for what I want during sex.  I also have a hard time relaxing and just enjoying things.  I tend to get a little anxious and feel that if someone is doing something to me, I need to come as fast as possible because they’re going to get bored and annoyed that I’m taking so long, or something.  Hangups from previous sex partners being impatient and selfish, I presume.  It’s really hard for me to just enjoy what’s going on, I always feel like I should be doing something, making sure my partner is having as good a time as possible.  I guess I need to stop caring so much about my partners’ pleasure, I guess, and make sure I get taken care of.

That’s one of the reasons the first time with Vash was so amazingly wonderful – all my hangups and baggage seemed to have taken a very welcome vacation.  It was just lovely and simple and exactly what sex should be.  I wish it could be like that again, and always.