Tag: dear john i love jane

It’s not all orgasms and shared wardrobes…

Nothing makes you feel more “everyday gay” than when you run into your girlfriend’s ex-wife and her girlfriend while you are taking care of the dog that your girlfriend and her ex adopted together.  It’s a fantastic feeling.  I wanted to be on the inside track – I wanted to know a life being with women.  I wanted to be out of my closet, I wanted all of it.  And I’m getting it.

The run in was made even more thrilling seeing as the ex had contacted my girlfriend that day to see if she could take the dog – and was told “no” it was too short notice.  Meanwhile, I’m just writing outside at a coffee shop – dog tied near my chair.  The icing on this fantastic moment is how goddamned excited the dog is to see the ex… it is her other mommy after all.  Oh, and more icing: this is the first time I have actually met her.  And I have to say, she looks just as cute as she does in their wedding photos.

I wouldn’t say the incident ruined my whole day.  That would be dramatic.  And this sort of thing is bound to happen – seeing as all the lesbians live in the same goddamned neighbourhood in this town.  So I should not be phased by such an everyday-gay experience.  However I am a lesbian – and what kind of lesbian would I be if I weren’t to get somewhat worked up over this casual encounter.  I was warned, after all, when I first revealed to a gay girl-friend that I thought I should be with women.  “Girls are crazy” she said.  Yes.    It seems that we may be… Just a little bit.

What Made you Gay?

This is the question I can see my mother asking in her head over and over.

That and “Are you really?”  and “Maybe you were ‘turned'”.

Just because I was very late in coming out.

Because I was in such deep denial.  Because I put great effort into being a “straight girl”.

My question is – “What made me closeted?”

Because the problem is not that I am gay.  That is a great thing.  The problem, in my mind, is that it took me so long to truly realize and accept it.

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Just over one year ago I said to a close friend
“Is that it?  Will I never get to be with a woman?”

I realize now that it was a belief in a label that kept me “straight” for all these years.  I was straight.  Never mind the fact that ninety percent of my sexual fantasies were about women.  Never mind the fact that I always knew I was different – I always knew I didn’t quite belong.

Sex and sexuality are not the same thing.  One can have sex with a toy.  One can have sex with themselves.  If there is drive, one can have sex with a person outside of their sexual orientation.

There are so many little details that make each of us up.  It is not necessary to justify all of our little quirks in order to fall into a pre-conceived category.  However, if one is an over-analyzer, it’s difficult to resist.

I have “come out” the other side since that moment last spring. Or more accurately, I am continuing to come out the other side.  I am myself in a way I have never before experienced.  I have a home.

 

 

white picket fence

Is there a scenario where this ends well?

 

I think I have been turned.  I have turned myself.

My imagination isn’t holding up so well anymore.

 

So what now?

How long do I wait and see?

I didn’t like that

I was pretending

I did not like that

I was lying

For love

For self preservation.

 

—

 

Art imitates life.

Art has blown the top off of life.

What is true.

The chicken or the egg.

 

—

 

I try to live for – or with integrity.

She lives with purpose

I don’t know if the means justifies the ends.

She is all about the end

She plays this game so well

I think she will win

Nice guys finish last.

—

 

“You have secrets”.  He said it in passing.  He said it in passing.  He said it in passing.  He said it as a challenge cloaked in a joke cloaked in “I don’t care” and hidden behind “What?  I didn’t say anything.”

–

I don’t trust her.  I maybe did once.  For a day or two.  When it felt like we were in it together.

–

Water is healing.  I am myself – whoever that is.

I am still angry.

I think he can tell.

But we aren’t good at talking.

Not about the real stuff, anyway.

 

—

It’s only been 5 days since I’ve seen her.

I think I was using her.

I think we were using eachother.

—

 

Her brown eyes invite me to a world I have only imagined.

But I cannot reach her through this white picket fence.

 

Is this for real

Perhaps the dramatic me never left the building

Perhaps the wild me was simply me

An animal can be tamed, but do they ever lose their instincts.

What kind of damage would I cause this time.

 

That heat has not lived inside me for so long.

—

There is ritual

There is tradition

There is the game

And there is the truth.

All the world is a stage.

Unravelling

 

It is and it isn’t.  It’s a loop hole.  It’s an exception.  Maybe.  It’s an excuse.  It’s an opportunity.  It’s a choice.  It’s a thing.

 

—

Maybe I should have just one glass of wine.  I went swimming.  He got high.  We are travelling in slightly different directions.

 

—

The smoke filled air

Creates a haze

Erasing the smell of her

 

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