the glow of love

is still around me, all the time, whatever I do, wherever I am, but especially when I'm in my lover's arms. We have a lot of good discussions, today, about the longevity of relationships. I read an article in Chatelaine magazine, while waiting at the doctor's office (for more headache pills - sigh). It was about famous couples who actually stayed together for a long time. Ann Bancroft and her husband was one example (isn't it terrible, I can't remember the guy's name). It was fascinating to read that they knew IMMEDIATELY that they are right for each other... because the first time I met Derek, last fall, I KNEW. I know it sounds weird, creepy and downright superstitious (but hey, Halloween is approaching). Years ago, when I first dreamt about a man, a lover (it was when Lydia was just a baby and I came to the horrible, depressing and frightening realization that I don't love my husband anymore, after a fight when he made me cry for, like, the hundredth time). I had a vision of a young man (younger than me, but not much younger), with long, dark, curly hair, blue eyes, a voice that's deep and seductive, a man with intellect and sensitivity, an artist, living in a small apartment on the top floor of an old house, in a room with a slanted ceiling. I imagined running up to his apartment with fresh fruit and cheese from the market, and I would throw a fabulous lunch together and help him with his art, like pose for him or something equally sexy, and then we would make love on his old rickety bed, with his long hair hanging down and covering my face... I later put the dream in the back of my mind, thinking it one of those silly flights of fancy that women sometimes make up when dreaming of a romance, an escape. And, here I was, meeting this young man for the first time. I'd met others from AFF by then, with various success, and had a few adventures behind me, so it was strange that I was nervous on our first date. He came out of the pub, greeting me outside, telling me that the giant stuffed bear (under which we were supposed to meet) had been taken away, so he wanted to make sure I can find him. He was thinner than I imagined, slighter, but that and his nervousness made him more vulnerable, more endearing to me. He had long, dark, wavy, soft hair and a beard and startlingly light eyes that changed colour depending on the light - blue, green, grey. And when those eyes looked at me, my heart jumped into my throat. We had lunch and chatted and he looked at my breasts and I caught him and he apologized for staring. He talked about his writing, his family, his son and I talked about my reasons for seeing men outside my marriage. He suggested we go to his place, an old house by the river where he rented a room. We sat downstairs at first, talked some more and he hugged me, an almost childlike hug that was startling in its intensity and sincerity. Then he took my hand and led me up the squeaky old stairs to his room. It was a small, messy room, with a narrow bed and a large bookshelf. Later, when we laid down on the bed, I looked up, and saw the sunlight playing on the slanted ceiling. We kissed, his hair fell forward and I remembered my daydream, from long ago... the moment heated up then, and though we didn't have sex the first time, we were certainly quite excited about each other. The next time we met, I knew what's going to happen and I was so happy, giddy with anticipation and excitement. Our first time was nice. Not earth-shattering, not incredibly hot, it was more tender and romantic, and I was too nervous to completely relax and enjoy myself. It was so sweet and so beautiful, it was a shock when I saw him the next time and he broke up with me. It shouldn't have hurt too bad, really, we've only been together once and were only a "couple" for a week or so, but... it hurt. Very much. He told me he could not have a relationship with a married woman. We agreed that we want to stay friends and we held hands and he put his head in my lap and we dreamed about what could have been. And suddenly, I had to get out of there, I ran out to my car and by the time I turned the ignition I was crying. Sobbing, more like. He called me a few minutes later, he was worried that by me leaving so abruptly, I decided not to see him again, and somehow he just couldn't bear that. I said, no, of course not, we're still friends. So I came to the philosophy pub, and the Humanist meetings, out of interest, too, but also to see him. So that's how it started, this months-long dance that we did, circling around each other, looking at each other, briefly touching than parting again, neither of us willing to give up the other completely, neither of us ready to give in to our true feelings. We danced with others, flirted and laughed and touched, but we never really lost sight of the other. Until just a few weeks ago when finally the pretense and the game and the dance just fell away and it was just the two of us, with raw feelings we could no longer hide.

what a difference

a few days can make!
I re-read my last post and it feels like it's not even me... I know that at the time it made sense, but now.. not anymore. It all started when I told Derek what I'm planning. I knew he won't be too happy but I figured he'll accept it. Not so much. He got very jealous and very hurt and very possessive. Most of the thought process happened when I wasn't there. I told him about it last Sunday night and on Monday, he called me at work, which he never did before. I went over to his place after work and we talked. and talked. and talked. and came to the conclusion that both of us are hurting at the thought of sharing each other with other people and that it's not worth the pain. And.. we committed to not sleeping with anyone else until further discussion on the subject. (Both of us are reluctant to say "ever" or "while we are together" because we both know things happen in a relationship, if not now, then years down the road, so both of us were comfortable with the idea that if we ever think otherwise, we'll talk about it again). It was a BIG step since we both felt that monogamy can be very damaging and old-fashioned and "ownership-based", etc. We shook hands on it. And, since then, I'm in cloud nine. And he is, too. We talked and talked endlessly about our feelings, about our relationship, about plans for the future and it's so good and it feels so right. We went away this weekend, to Ipperwash, rented a beautiful little cottage and hid away from the rest of the world. It was amazing. It was wonderful. It was profound.
We made love in front of the fireplace. Walked on the beach. Read books to each other. Wrote together. Talked about our lives and our future. Watched a movie. Held hands. Ate together. Danced to Celtic-type music (Ashley MacIsaac). Counted pigs in the bathroom (the lady who owns the cottage is obviously into pigs - we counted 50 in the bathroom!!!). Smoked pot and giggled together. It was an incredible weekend and we left reluctantly this afternoon.
Tomorrow, we are going to look for houses together. We decided we want to live with each other.

pursuing my fantasies

Barb, not for your eyes, my friend!

Last Sunday, D. decided to call me up specifically to tell me that he is going to spend the evening with someone else... It wasn't a shocker, I knew he spends time with her once in a while, even though we've been seeing each other on almost a daily basis. But the phone call couldn't have come at a worse time. Just the night before, I was at his place til 4 am, and we laughed and went out for dinner and talked about everything, about how we enjoy being with each other. I flashed my boobs at him in the parking lot of Boston Pizza because he said he would like to put the ladybug stickers I had on my shirt on my nipples instead. We barely made it home, we were touching each other in the car and I was like, darn, really, I should pull over. We did make it home to his place though... So after a night like that, I was feeling pretty happy and upbeat and just glowingly content in general. And he calls me and I was like, oh, he is calling me without being asked or prompted, and he sounds so... content, like me. And we talked about our day and then he says, I'm busy tonight, so don't come over, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Alrighty then. We weren't even planning on getting together, and it being Thanksgiving weekend, it would have been so easy for him to just say, I'm going out to my moms, or whatever... instead, he felt the need to tell me exactly what he's going to be doing. THANKS!!!!! I called him later and specifically asked him to lie to me next time.. I don't need to know. I can't handle it. We'll see how that goes. So anyway, we went over to friends' house down the street, they invited Lydia and me for turkey. AND, they got a hot tub!!!!! So we had turkey, then sat in the hot tub and Sandra and I finished a bottle of good Hungarian red wine... I was feeling no pain at all, let me tell ya! LOL. The kids were in the basement, watching a movie, and I said, sorry, I just have to go home... not feeling too good. (I'm not used to drinking, I'm the cheapest drunk around, half a glass of wine makes me giggly and tipsy, so half a bottle was a bit... over my limit. I was all fuzzy, but it was kinda nice). So I went home, and decided to check my emails before going to bed and then, an inspiration came over me and decided: I will pursue my fantasies and do what I want to do. And, I have had this fantasy for a long time now, to have a threesome with two guys. So, fortified by the red wine, I posted a note out on Adult Friend Finder. Got three replies in the first hour. LOL. And I'm still getting notes in my mailbox there and some comments on the post. So, what I'm gonna do is pick the "cream of the crop" so to speak, meet them for coffee to make sure we still click off line, not just on, and... plan a nice night out. I've already gave the "come hither" message to a couple of them and I'm getting pretty excited (mmmm). Will keep everyone posted, with descriptions of the candidates and the "interview" process. (no names, of course)