So, speaking of Love…

…I’m getting married, in precisely… 1 day, 22 hours, and 54 minutes… so sayeth the Countdown Clock on my cell phone.

To say “I’m excited!” would be a severe understatement.

To say “I am excited-scared-happy-outofmymind-giddy-nervous-ecstatic-andbeyondunderstandablespeech” would be a bit closer.

Have I told you, dear readers, about my X?  I know that the last year or so of my blog Life has been sporadic and full of half-entries spewing whatever happened to bubble to the surface at the moment that I was feeling the need to blog. But have I really told you about my X?

…and immediately I struggle with words…damn the shortcomings of language!  Give it a name, right?  I will try…I will fail… but I will try.  He is smart, funny, sarcastic, handsome, thoughtful, romantic, considerate, respectful, genuine, caring, sexy… he inspires me, he makes me think, he encourages me… he Loves me, adores me, worships me, cherishes me… he cooks me dinner, he makes me drinks, he does laundry & washes dishes, he loves my family (!),  he decorates with me, he sings with me, he cries with me, he laughs with me, he will listen to me without talking, he will hold me without asking what’s wrong, he will drive when I need him too and let me drive when I want to, he is my High Priest, he is the Love of my Life, he is my Partner, he knows when to rub my back or when to rub my feet, he listens to my dreams and supports them, he expects the best of me, he takes pictures of me and brags about me, he LOVES MY KID and she loves him, he vacuums, he brings me sangria and chocolate, he will make Love to me and he will fuck me AND ALL OF THESE THINGS ARE SEPARATE AND CONNECTED AND IMPORTANT BEYOND WORDS.

In short, X has made me a believer.

Before his Love:

I felt the idea of “soul mates” was fairy tale-ish and immature. I thought the concept of “true love” was a simplistic and unrealistic idea. I thought happiness was what you made of it. I thought love stories were bull shit and I loudly heckled television shows & movies that portrayed romatic relationships. I struggled with the concept of romance and ridiculed myself for wanting it. I talked myself into a desperate place where I tried to balance deep thinking with shallow feeling.  I tried to drown believing with thinking.  I tried to hide myself from myself.

Now:

Well… if you’ve read my recent blog posts you know, I’m a believer.

And in less than 2 days, I will be Mrs. X.  Hail Eris.

 

Thoughts on sex with girls.

How’s that for a title? The thought process started for me on Friday. One of my co-workers called me over to his desk, because, he said, I was the best qualified to answer his question. Knowing this person as I do, I rolled my eyes and walked over prepared for the worst. “So, you saw Ghost, right?” I snickered, unable to help myself. “Yes” I answered. “Ok,” he continued, “so you know that scene at the end where Whoopi let Patrick Swayze use her body so that he could have one last kiss with Demi Moore, right?” Again I answered, “Yes”. “Ok,” he continues “does that make Whoopi & Demi lesbians?” My answer was “No”. He wanted to know why not? I said “Because fucking a girl, much less kissing one, does not make you a lesbian.” He found that hilarious and, once the laughter subsided, he asked “Isn’t that kind of the entire point of being a lesbian?”. What? Really?! Is fucking a girl the entire point of being a heterosexual man? I guess maybe it is for some. But I have been intimate with a few women, not a lot, but a few, and I am definitely not a lesbian.
This just brings me back to a discussion I had in my Psych class a couple of years ago. To some people, sexual orientation is very black and white. You’re either straight or you’re gay. Those kinds of people don’t believe anyone who says they are bi-sexual. They call us delusional, liars; they say we are “experimenting”, or outright faking.

So, I have to wonder, in the minds of these kind of people… is the concept of sex with someone you care about so far removed from their idea of homosexuality? I know that sex does not equal Love by any stretch of the imagination. Sometimes you just need to get off. But sometimes, just sometimes, it’s more than sex. Sometimes it’s an expression of Love, mutual adoration, respect, and affection. Sometimes it’s magical.
At 32 years old I can safely say I am no longer experimenting with my sexual orientation. I am bi-sexual and I am in Love with a Man. He is the Love of my Life and, I am convinced, my Spiritual twin/Soul mate/what-the-fuck-ever.  Give it a name, right? But I have loved Women. I have given them all that I could in hopes of finding that connection, that level of intimacy and Love that I so longed for… and they have loved me, they best that they could.

Love is Love. So, fuck you.  Keep your labels to yourself.