Sunday, October 31, 2004
The Bluest Eye...
The Party and how it went
Well, I got to see her again. I even got to be on two pictures beside her... which I now can't stop looking at...
The party wasn't all that, though. And apart from everything else, my whole reason of going was 2 hours late, and from what I gathered from the hostess, she didn't really mean to show up at all. So much for my desperate wishful fantasies of her wanting to see me again and looking forward to this party just as much and fervently as I did. I know it shouldn't have, but that already put a slight (irrationial) muffler on my mood.
Alas, she did show up, dressed up as a Geisha, in a blue dress that made those sapphire blue eyes of hers shine even darker, reducing me to a blabbering fool right on the spot.
Well, maybe not exactly blabbering... in fact, I found myself rather tongue-tied at first, there was nothing left of that spark that kept our last week's conversation going and going and going and going. I felt awkward and clumsy around her, and she didn't seek out my presence the way she seemed to do last week.
I don't know if she remembered my name the way I dreamed about the other night, because the subject never came up, but she did remember that I played the bass, and only for 3 months. I found out that she loves cheddar & sour cream Ruffles just as much as I do, lives in Downtown Long Beach, and that her unusual sounding name is Arabic.
Once she touched me and kinda rubbed my shoulder while giving me one of her beautiful smiles, as if to somehow console me for something I wasn't aware of happening, and I reveled in the touch. Just as I did when I had my arm around her and she had hers around me for a picture (and no, there was nothing to it, the hostess on my other side did the same thing - it was just posing), and when we hugged when she left the party around 2am.
I had the perfect opportunity to ask for her email address when she looked through the pics I took on my digital camera and asked how I was going to print them, but I didn't. I could have offered to send them to her, but I didn't. Why? I have no idea. Not the slightest.
After we snuck the booze into the party (don't ask), we all sat outside on the porch around a table. I ended up next to her. She ended up next to me? Wishful thinking.
By this time I had pretty much given up even trying to get her to myself, and maybe try to make a move. Or drop a hint. Or something. It wasn't at all like it was last week, she wasn't overly interested in me, so I didn't wanna push it. I was just sitting next to her, enjoying being so relatively close to her, looking at her when I thought she wouldn't notice, and drinking more Bacardi than I should have. Which did its own to make me act like a fool, even without forecfully cornering her and proclaiming my undying love for her on my knees. *rolls eyes*
I don't think I was too impressive, after my second double shot. But then, I didn't really try, either. I think I have settled with drooling over her from a safe distance, and looking at her pictures, pretending in my head the way I did as a pimply and overgrown ugly teenager with the popular guys I had crushes on.
Talk came up about something... an Indian style bar maybe... and its grooviness... and about going there next weekend. The Fiancé and I, the hostess with her BF I assume, and Jo. Indian style bars? Or was it a restaurant? Something? Somewhere on Sunset... expensive only from the sound of it... but I grabbed at it desperately as a drowning man would grab at a life saver. A chance of getting to see her again next weekend. After I was too chicken shit to ask her if she wanted to come over tonight and scare little children after she said she had no plans for Halloween. So I really don't care where we're going or why, or how much it'll be... I just wanna be there so I can look at her some more, and bask in her beautiful smile and look at her sapphire blue eyes as much as I can, fueling my childish dreams of holding her in my arms and placing a trace of soft little kisses down that long slender neck of hers...
The party wasn't all that, though. And apart from everything else, my whole reason of going was 2 hours late, and from what I gathered from the hostess, she didn't really mean to show up at all. So much for my desperate wishful fantasies of her wanting to see me again and looking forward to this party just as much and fervently as I did. I know it shouldn't have, but that already put a slight (irrationial) muffler on my mood.
Alas, she did show up, dressed up as a Geisha, in a blue dress that made those sapphire blue eyes of hers shine even darker, reducing me to a blabbering fool right on the spot.
Well, maybe not exactly blabbering... in fact, I found myself rather tongue-tied at first, there was nothing left of that spark that kept our last week's conversation going and going and going and going. I felt awkward and clumsy around her, and she didn't seek out my presence the way she seemed to do last week.
I don't know if she remembered my name the way I dreamed about the other night, because the subject never came up, but she did remember that I played the bass, and only for 3 months. I found out that she loves cheddar & sour cream Ruffles just as much as I do, lives in Downtown Long Beach, and that her unusual sounding name is Arabic.
Once she touched me and kinda rubbed my shoulder while giving me one of her beautiful smiles, as if to somehow console me for something I wasn't aware of happening, and I reveled in the touch. Just as I did when I had my arm around her and she had hers around me for a picture (and no, there was nothing to it, the hostess on my other side did the same thing - it was just posing), and when we hugged when she left the party around 2am.
I had the perfect opportunity to ask for her email address when she looked through the pics I took on my digital camera and asked how I was going to print them, but I didn't. I could have offered to send them to her, but I didn't. Why? I have no idea. Not the slightest.
After we snuck the booze into the party (don't ask), we all sat outside on the porch around a table. I ended up next to her. She ended up next to me? Wishful thinking.
By this time I had pretty much given up even trying to get her to myself, and maybe try to make a move. Or drop a hint. Or something. It wasn't at all like it was last week, she wasn't overly interested in me, so I didn't wanna push it. I was just sitting next to her, enjoying being so relatively close to her, looking at her when I thought she wouldn't notice, and drinking more Bacardi than I should have. Which did its own to make me act like a fool, even without forecfully cornering her and proclaiming my undying love for her on my knees. *rolls eyes*
I don't think I was too impressive, after my second double shot. But then, I didn't really try, either. I think I have settled with drooling over her from a safe distance, and looking at her pictures, pretending in my head the way I did as a pimply and overgrown ugly teenager with the popular guys I had crushes on.
Talk came up about something... an Indian style bar maybe... and its grooviness... and about going there next weekend. The Fiancé and I, the hostess with her BF I assume, and Jo. Indian style bars? Or was it a restaurant? Something? Somewhere on Sunset... expensive only from the sound of it... but I grabbed at it desperately as a drowning man would grab at a life saver. A chance of getting to see her again next weekend. After I was too chicken shit to ask her if she wanted to come over tonight and scare little children after she said she had no plans for Halloween. So I really don't care where we're going or why, or how much it'll be... I just wanna be there so I can look at her some more, and bask in her beautiful smile and look at her sapphire blue eyes as much as I can, fueling my childish dreams of holding her in my arms and placing a trace of soft little kisses down that long slender neck of hers...
Saturday, October 30, 2004
Soon...
I get to see her in a couple of hours... what I've been waiting for all week. And now I feel yucky, and nervous, and almost wish I wouldn't have to go to that party.
I don't want for my bubble to burst. I don't want to go there, find out she is not the least bit interested in me, and find all my hopes and dreams crushed. I almost rather keep on going with my fantasizing and dreaming, than facing her a second time, and maybe not get even close to what I want.
Maybe she was just nice, interested in getting to meet new people. Maybe that's all it is. Maybe I am full of shit, and completely delusional, and will make a total ass out of myself, unable to face The Fiancé afterwards, who's been seeing me obsess over her all week, and will soon see me rejected.
Yet at the same time I can't even sit still with anticipation...
I don't want for my bubble to burst. I don't want to go there, find out she is not the least bit interested in me, and find all my hopes and dreams crushed. I almost rather keep on going with my fantasizing and dreaming, than facing her a second time, and maybe not get even close to what I want.
Maybe she was just nice, interested in getting to meet new people. Maybe that's all it is. Maybe I am full of shit, and completely delusional, and will make a total ass out of myself, unable to face The Fiancé afterwards, who's been seeing me obsess over her all week, and will soon see me rejected.
Yet at the same time I can't even sit still with anticipation...
I dreamed about her last night
And like I mentioned in my last entry - it isn't so much the sexual component. She was just there, in the same room with me, which looked like a classroom, across of it, but facing my direction. We all prepared for whatever exam we had to take, and she just did her thing, preparing her bluebook, taking out her pen, nothing extraordinary, but extraordinarily beautiful and graceful in her doing it.
And then... then she looked at me from across the room, and smiled and said my name, and my heart stopped. She remembers my name!
That was pretty much all there was to that dream... you see how little can make me happy? Her just being there, looking at me, remembering my name. That's really all it would take to send me home floating again, tonight...
And then... then she looked at me from across the room, and smiled and said my name, and my heart stopped. She remembers my name!
That was pretty much all there was to that dream... you see how little can make me happy? Her just being there, looking at me, remembering my name. That's really all it would take to send me home floating again, tonight...
Friday, October 29, 2004
NOW I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!
Okay, as I said before, it is now time to talk about why.
Why having a blog about such a private matter?
Why did I decide now to make serious and do something about it?
Why do I think a blog of all things would help me?
Well, first of all: I decided to blog about my private journey to self-fulfilment (or however you wanna call it), because I am hoping that somehow, sometime someone in a similar situation will stumble upon it, and either gets inspired to start a similar journey, or someone who's been there will find me, and would exchange their own experiences with me. Mostly I guess I wanna see that I am not alone out there, if that makes sense...
Now let me answer the third question first, before I go into the more elaborate answer to #2. I have been blogging for over two years, and the answer is simple: I like being a web-exhibitionist. Plus it helps me sort through my own thoughts and experiences the way a diary would - only I rather write for potential readers out there, that's just the way I am.
Now, on to the ultimative why: last week I have met a woman at a party, the most beautiful woman I ever laid my eyes on, and since then I have been thinking of few things other than her. She drives me nuts, thinking about her drives me nuts, and all I wanna do is to spend time with her. And more time, and more time, and more time... It isn't really so much the sexual component, even though I can tell you, oh boy, do I wanna get my hands on her. Interestingly enough it really is more about me just wanting to be with her. Be in the same room with her. Be able to talk with her. Be able to look at her. I get all dreamy when I only think about her.
What happened was this:
My fiancé and I got invited to this Halloween party, that I really didn't want to go to. I am not a party pooper, but a few months ago I learned that he had a crush on the hostess... long before he met me. As open-minded as I am about certain things, as irrational I am with others - and I didn't like this thought at all. Not that I don't trust my guy, it's just that I rather not be faced with a woman that he once described as "incredibly cute and gorgeous".
So we fought about it all week, and in the end I decided to go. Not so much because I wanted to, but more - honestly, and I am not very proud of it - because I rather be there and be able to check on things and observe. Not that there was any reason to, or not that I don't trust my guy. I told you already I am irrational when it comes to certain things.
We got there, I was introduced to the present crowd, and I soon found myself trapped in some boring small-talk with the host in the living room, while The Fiancé was off chatting and catching up with his friends. I was facing a big mirror on the wall, through which I could see the front door. While trying hard not to run out of banalities to talk about with this guy, that door opened, and in came the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She hugged The Fiancé heartily, like a long missed friend, and they immediately immersed in enthusiastic chatter, which I would have loved to be a part of. I was by now really running out of things to say to this guy. There is only so much one can say after: "So, you play in a band, huh?" "Yeah, I play the bass. And I heard you play the drums?" "Yeah..."
Fortunately soon before the silence between the host and I got too embarrassing, I saw The Fiancé pointing at me and saying a few words to the girl, introductory phrases I suppose, after which she looked up at me through the mirror, gave me a big smile, and briskly walked over to me, with her hand stretched out.
When she smiles, she looks a bit like Milla Jovovich... *dreams*...
I shook her hand to say my hellos, and that's when I suddenly became acutely aware of how my teeth got blackened from that darned Halloween cookie thing that I ate only minutes before. So, not wanting to look like a fool on first impression my hand shot up to my mouth in an attempt to cover up, which then muffled my entire introductory ceremony, making me look like a worse fool than I probally could have looked like with blackened teeth but a self-confident smile.
Jo (let's call her that) didn't pay me much heed, then. She and The Fiancé continued their friendly chatter, and I just stood by, rather quietly, listening, and being glad I was put out of my little situation with the host, who had long since taken the opportunity to slip away. I wasn't paying much attention to Jo then, either, having been still a little bit miffed at being at that party in the first place. But she had such a positive attitude and magnetic personality, that I couldn't help but start to pay attention. Plus she kept on smiling at me and looking at me as if I was actually a part of their conversation, and I liked that. I like being made felt like I was a part of something. So I smiled back and started to participate in the conversation a bit, and I also started to look at her. I couldn't help it, really. She was just too present as to not notice her and everything about her.
She's tall. Almost as tall as me, maybe 5'9" or so. She looks fit, but not scrawny at all. Her hair is dyed black, and it's maybe chin-length and straight, and she kept it back in a very short ponytail. Her eyes are of the most intense and dark blue I have ever seen, and the way they sparkled with life and humor was simply infatuating, even then, when I hadn't even exchanged one real word with her yet. She was wearing a Roman style tunic, bound around her upper body in a way that just kept on drawing my eyes to her breasts over and over again.
Soon after that we went out on the porch, which beautifully overlooked LA in a radius from Downtown to Sunset Blvd to Hollywood. It was a beautiful sea of lights down there, and I sat down opposite to where The Fiancé was standing. Next thing I knew, Jo was sitting next to me, and the conversation continued on as before. I started to warm up a little bit and get over my uncomfortableness with strangers, and we had some good fun. When she went inside to the bathroom, The Fiancé shot me this big grin with a wink, and told me: "She was so checking you out."
You see, before we arrived at the party I have been told about this girl (Jo, coincidently), who has never been seen with a guy before, and who has never responded to guys hitting on her at parties, and who always seemed to have been closer to the hostess than to any male around. Little bit of side information I didn't really care about when I heard it. I was pissed at having to go to that party, remember?
She came back, and soon after The Fiancé excused himself with a quest for another beer. He made a point out of not coming back, and so there I was with her, alone. All my uncomfortableness with strangers suddenly came back, and I saw another situation like the one with the host come flying at me. And believe you me, at this point that was the last thing I wanted - to seem dull or boring to this girl, and to have her attention turn to someone else.
There wasn't much reason to worry, though. She asked me if I wanted to sit down at the table where a bunch of other people were sitting at, and I agreed. She pulled out two chairs, placed hers next to mine, and after about 2 minutes of participating in the general banter around the table, her attention turned to me.
To me exclusively.
We started talking, and talking, and talking. While the night around us got colder and colder, I warmed up to her more and more, and I had the best and most involved conversation I had with a random stranger for a very long time. I think I really just hit it off with her. At least on a communicational basis. A while into the discussion she seemed friendly enough with me to just softly "slap" me or "brush" my arm in gestures of laughter, or to reinforce a point she was making... you know how some people are just touchy-feely like that? Whatever her intentions were, however... she sure had my attention 100%, and the next time I was aware of my surroundings I realized that Jo and I were the only ones left on the porch. Everybody else had made their way inside to flee from the cold... and I didn't notice a thing. And neither did she, I think, seeing as she was sitting there in her sleeveless toga and didn't even appear to be cold.
But like I said... whatever her reason. Maybe she just doesn't get cold easily. What do I know about her?
Eventually the beer I had made its presence in my bladder painfully clear, and as much as I hated it, I had to interrupt our conversation and go inside to the bathroom. I was so afraid that when I came back she would talk with someone else, having all forgotten about me. But that was not so. I came out, and The Fiancé was back talking with her, so I walked up to them and - was it just my wishful thinking? - she came to stand quite close to me.
There was talk about another party the upcoming weekend (- tomorrow, in fact), and she almost insisted on us going. When we left, she told me that it was so nice to have met me, gave me a hug that admittedly left me rather shaky on my legs, and when I was about to leave through the front door, she called another "so nice to meet you!" after me.
I was floating back to the car, not walking. My heart was beating, the butterflies were going rampant in my stomach. A woman has never before made me feel this way, this extreme, and while I was struggling with myself to get down from this Jo-induced high, The Fiancé was grinning at me relentlessly.
"You have a crush!", he teased in the car.
"Yeah...", I breathed weakly.
And I do. I have been thinking about Jo all week. The thought of seeing her again tomorrow was what got me through my week, which was, on top of all things, a rather shitty one. And the fact that The Fiancé keeps on teasing me with her when we're together in bed doesn't help the least bit. He encourages me not to be "so negative" when I make the point that I don't even KNOW if she's into girls, that I don't even know if she's just friendly like that with people she just meets period, and that I am afraid she might not even look at me tomorrow.
"Don't be so negative!"
I try not to. I really do. But it's hard. I am really nervous about tomorrow, as much as I am looking forward to it, and have been all week.
But anyway... that's the story. And whether or not she is into girls the way The Fiancé and the hostess suspect, and whether or not she'll be paying attention to me tomorrow the way she was last night, the way I reacted to her was reason enough for me to really start dealing with my latent bisexuality on a more intense level. If there are women out there who can make me feel like that in addition to the way The Fiancé makes me feel, and I can have both... why wouldn't I at least try?
Why having a blog about such a private matter?
Why did I decide now to make serious and do something about it?
Why do I think a blog of all things would help me?
Well, first of all: I decided to blog about my private journey to self-fulfilment (or however you wanna call it), because I am hoping that somehow, sometime someone in a similar situation will stumble upon it, and either gets inspired to start a similar journey, or someone who's been there will find me, and would exchange their own experiences with me. Mostly I guess I wanna see that I am not alone out there, if that makes sense...
Now let me answer the third question first, before I go into the more elaborate answer to #2. I have been blogging for over two years, and the answer is simple: I like being a web-exhibitionist. Plus it helps me sort through my own thoughts and experiences the way a diary would - only I rather write for potential readers out there, that's just the way I am.
Now, on to the ultimative why: last week I have met a woman at a party, the most beautiful woman I ever laid my eyes on, and since then I have been thinking of few things other than her. She drives me nuts, thinking about her drives me nuts, and all I wanna do is to spend time with her. And more time, and more time, and more time... It isn't really so much the sexual component, even though I can tell you, oh boy, do I wanna get my hands on her. Interestingly enough it really is more about me just wanting to be with her. Be in the same room with her. Be able to talk with her. Be able to look at her. I get all dreamy when I only think about her.
What happened was this:
My fiancé and I got invited to this Halloween party, that I really didn't want to go to. I am not a party pooper, but a few months ago I learned that he had a crush on the hostess... long before he met me. As open-minded as I am about certain things, as irrational I am with others - and I didn't like this thought at all. Not that I don't trust my guy, it's just that I rather not be faced with a woman that he once described as "incredibly cute and gorgeous".
So we fought about it all week, and in the end I decided to go. Not so much because I wanted to, but more - honestly, and I am not very proud of it - because I rather be there and be able to check on things and observe. Not that there was any reason to, or not that I don't trust my guy. I told you already I am irrational when it comes to certain things.
We got there, I was introduced to the present crowd, and I soon found myself trapped in some boring small-talk with the host in the living room, while The Fiancé was off chatting and catching up with his friends. I was facing a big mirror on the wall, through which I could see the front door. While trying hard not to run out of banalities to talk about with this guy, that door opened, and in came the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She hugged The Fiancé heartily, like a long missed friend, and they immediately immersed in enthusiastic chatter, which I would have loved to be a part of. I was by now really running out of things to say to this guy. There is only so much one can say after: "So, you play in a band, huh?" "Yeah, I play the bass. And I heard you play the drums?" "Yeah..."
Fortunately soon before the silence between the host and I got too embarrassing, I saw The Fiancé pointing at me and saying a few words to the girl, introductory phrases I suppose, after which she looked up at me through the mirror, gave me a big smile, and briskly walked over to me, with her hand stretched out.
When she smiles, she looks a bit like Milla Jovovich... *dreams*...
I shook her hand to say my hellos, and that's when I suddenly became acutely aware of how my teeth got blackened from that darned Halloween cookie thing that I ate only minutes before. So, not wanting to look like a fool on first impression my hand shot up to my mouth in an attempt to cover up, which then muffled my entire introductory ceremony, making me look like a worse fool than I probally could have looked like with blackened teeth but a self-confident smile.
Jo (let's call her that) didn't pay me much heed, then. She and The Fiancé continued their friendly chatter, and I just stood by, rather quietly, listening, and being glad I was put out of my little situation with the host, who had long since taken the opportunity to slip away. I wasn't paying much attention to Jo then, either, having been still a little bit miffed at being at that party in the first place. But she had such a positive attitude and magnetic personality, that I couldn't help but start to pay attention. Plus she kept on smiling at me and looking at me as if I was actually a part of their conversation, and I liked that. I like being made felt like I was a part of something. So I smiled back and started to participate in the conversation a bit, and I also started to look at her. I couldn't help it, really. She was just too present as to not notice her and everything about her.
She's tall. Almost as tall as me, maybe 5'9" or so. She looks fit, but not scrawny at all. Her hair is dyed black, and it's maybe chin-length and straight, and she kept it back in a very short ponytail. Her eyes are of the most intense and dark blue I have ever seen, and the way they sparkled with life and humor was simply infatuating, even then, when I hadn't even exchanged one real word with her yet. She was wearing a Roman style tunic, bound around her upper body in a way that just kept on drawing my eyes to her breasts over and over again.
Soon after that we went out on the porch, which beautifully overlooked LA in a radius from Downtown to Sunset Blvd to Hollywood. It was a beautiful sea of lights down there, and I sat down opposite to where The Fiancé was standing. Next thing I knew, Jo was sitting next to me, and the conversation continued on as before. I started to warm up a little bit and get over my uncomfortableness with strangers, and we had some good fun. When she went inside to the bathroom, The Fiancé shot me this big grin with a wink, and told me: "She was so checking you out."
You see, before we arrived at the party I have been told about this girl (Jo, coincidently), who has never been seen with a guy before, and who has never responded to guys hitting on her at parties, and who always seemed to have been closer to the hostess than to any male around. Little bit of side information I didn't really care about when I heard it. I was pissed at having to go to that party, remember?
She came back, and soon after The Fiancé excused himself with a quest for another beer. He made a point out of not coming back, and so there I was with her, alone. All my uncomfortableness with strangers suddenly came back, and I saw another situation like the one with the host come flying at me. And believe you me, at this point that was the last thing I wanted - to seem dull or boring to this girl, and to have her attention turn to someone else.
There wasn't much reason to worry, though. She asked me if I wanted to sit down at the table where a bunch of other people were sitting at, and I agreed. She pulled out two chairs, placed hers next to mine, and after about 2 minutes of participating in the general banter around the table, her attention turned to me.
To me exclusively.
We started talking, and talking, and talking. While the night around us got colder and colder, I warmed up to her more and more, and I had the best and most involved conversation I had with a random stranger for a very long time. I think I really just hit it off with her. At least on a communicational basis. A while into the discussion she seemed friendly enough with me to just softly "slap" me or "brush" my arm in gestures of laughter, or to reinforce a point she was making... you know how some people are just touchy-feely like that? Whatever her intentions were, however... she sure had my attention 100%, and the next time I was aware of my surroundings I realized that Jo and I were the only ones left on the porch. Everybody else had made their way inside to flee from the cold... and I didn't notice a thing. And neither did she, I think, seeing as she was sitting there in her sleeveless toga and didn't even appear to be cold.
But like I said... whatever her reason. Maybe she just doesn't get cold easily. What do I know about her?
Eventually the beer I had made its presence in my bladder painfully clear, and as much as I hated it, I had to interrupt our conversation and go inside to the bathroom. I was so afraid that when I came back she would talk with someone else, having all forgotten about me. But that was not so. I came out, and The Fiancé was back talking with her, so I walked up to them and - was it just my wishful thinking? - she came to stand quite close to me.
There was talk about another party the upcoming weekend (- tomorrow, in fact), and she almost insisted on us going. When we left, she told me that it was so nice to have met me, gave me a hug that admittedly left me rather shaky on my legs, and when I was about to leave through the front door, she called another "so nice to meet you!" after me.
I was floating back to the car, not walking. My heart was beating, the butterflies were going rampant in my stomach. A woman has never before made me feel this way, this extreme, and while I was struggling with myself to get down from this Jo-induced high, The Fiancé was grinning at me relentlessly.
"You have a crush!", he teased in the car.
"Yeah...", I breathed weakly.
And I do. I have been thinking about Jo all week. The thought of seeing her again tomorrow was what got me through my week, which was, on top of all things, a rather shitty one. And the fact that The Fiancé keeps on teasing me with her when we're together in bed doesn't help the least bit. He encourages me not to be "so negative" when I make the point that I don't even KNOW if she's into girls, that I don't even know if she's just friendly like that with people she just meets period, and that I am afraid she might not even look at me tomorrow.
"Don't be so negative!"
I try not to. I really do. But it's hard. I am really nervous about tomorrow, as much as I am looking forward to it, and have been all week.
But anyway... that's the story. And whether or not she is into girls the way The Fiancé and the hostess suspect, and whether or not she'll be paying attention to me tomorrow the way she was last night, the way I reacted to her was reason enough for me to really start dealing with my latent bisexuality on a more intense level. If there are women out there who can make me feel like that in addition to the way The Fiancé makes me feel, and I can have both... why wouldn't I at least try?
Hello, World.
So, this is it. The "other" blog. What does "other" mean? Well, it basically means that I am a coward who doesn't yet dare talking about certain things on her "real" blog, the one I am keeping since a good 2 years already, and which is being read by a lot of my friends and family members, and therefore has to hide those certain things on the "other" blog.
"Certain things"? Yeah, like me being bisexual, the whole point of this literary adventure.
You see, I always kind of knew what's up with me. I remember I had my first crush on a girl when I was a wee teenager. She was a classmate, a petite little girl, and one of my best friends. I loved being around her, and I was scurrying around desperate for her approval pretty much all the time. At least that's how I look at it today, almost 10 years later. I didn't realize that I was feeling "weird" about her, until one day she sat down on my lap, in a very innocent friendship-like way, and this feeling shot through me from where her body touched my thighs all the way into my stomach, and from there a bit farther southwards, making me dizzy and, above all, rather confused. I pushed her off my lap, and that was that.
I put it off my mind... which wasn't such a hard thing to do, seeing as it never really was on it in the first place, at least not on a conscious level. I dated guys, quite a few, had sex with some of them, and a hell of a lot of fun doing it. No more weird thoughts and feelings for a while.
It wasn't until a couple or so years later when the topic came up again, this time much more consciously than before. I don't even remember the circumstances anymore, I just remember that I brought it up one day to my then-boyfriend, the first serious relationship I was ever in. For some reason I told him that I liked looking at girls, and how looking at some of them makes me feel. Of course his reaction wasn't exactly of the most positive kind, so from then on I mostly kept my thoughts on this to myself - which intensified over time, without me ever acting on any of them.
It's just a phase... it'll pass... you know. Massive self-denial.
Since then I mostly ignored it when I came across a girl I felt attracted to. I secretly looked at lesbian porn on the internet, and submitted my profile to one or two gay personals sites, but never really following up on anything. I had (and have) occasional surges of NOW I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, but the ambition died away almost as soon as I was done making plans on how I would go about it.
I got older, and along with it a bit more secure about myself and what I am. I started to tell the guys I was with. Most of them liked the dirty fantasies that my revelations apparently put into ther heads, but that was ok. It was positive reinforcement of some sort. Then one day I was faced with massive rejection and disgust, as I opened myself up to one guy, who then all of a sudden thought me untrustworthy, ambiguous, and unable to be in a monogamous relationship, just because I am interested in both genders. I was confused and hurt - but later I found out that said ex was left by a woman for another once. Ok, that would explain it, but I was still deeply offended by his notion of me being potentially more unfaithful, just because I felt attracted to women just as I did to men.
Life went on as usual. Until the drunk incident. Oh, boy. Those two girls in that strip bar were so obviously trying to pick me up, both of them, but I was far too wasted to even respond to them with as much as a nod of my head, and my first real potential opportunity with a female drowned in the swamp of alcohol that my brain had turned into that night. A bummer which I would regret for longer than it took to get rid of my hangover... lol.
Anyway. When I met my now-fiancé, I decided to be very bold. I decided not to allow anyone to put me down anymore or make me feel abnormal anymore because I was different, and I wanted to be frank with him from day one, see how he reacted to it, and then take it from there. So I told him: "I am a bisexual."
He said. "Oh, cool."
Turns out to my surprise that my beloved had, in the course of his life, slept with more guys than with girls. A bisexual himself!
Hello! What a turn on... but not only that, I finally felt that I had found someone who understands, and who doesn't judge, and who lets me be who I want to be, no questions asked. We had a few points of friction when he one day proclaimed that I wasn't a "real" bisexual, because I have never had any actual sexual contact with a female, and as long as it's just in my head, it doesn't count. I very strongly disagreed, and by now I believe he knows that I am not just all talk and dirty fantasy. :)
We've been talking on and off about "doing something about it", meaning to bring a girl into our bedroom for me to have fun with. Whereas I like the idea and the fantasy of it, I never was actually bold enough to act on it, and I also find it a tad too superficial... so now I have an open minded and above all supportive and encouraging partner - and I am STILL a bisexual virgin! LOL
Right now I am in another one of those NOW I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT phases. And this time I think I will go through with it, to whatever outcome. I am determined to become who I know I am, and to (slowly and eventually) let the world know about what I really am. This blog is a beginning. I have given this link to a very select and trustworthy few who are NOT part of my family, or my roommates, or my best friends, or any other person who knows me in real life, and I am hoping that eventually I will get some input from other people like me who happened to come across this website one way or another.
I will talk about what triggered this sudden determination of mine in my next entry.
"Certain things"? Yeah, like me being bisexual, the whole point of this literary adventure.
You see, I always kind of knew what's up with me. I remember I had my first crush on a girl when I was a wee teenager. She was a classmate, a petite little girl, and one of my best friends. I loved being around her, and I was scurrying around desperate for her approval pretty much all the time. At least that's how I look at it today, almost 10 years later. I didn't realize that I was feeling "weird" about her, until one day she sat down on my lap, in a very innocent friendship-like way, and this feeling shot through me from where her body touched my thighs all the way into my stomach, and from there a bit farther southwards, making me dizzy and, above all, rather confused. I pushed her off my lap, and that was that.
I put it off my mind... which wasn't such a hard thing to do, seeing as it never really was on it in the first place, at least not on a conscious level. I dated guys, quite a few, had sex with some of them, and a hell of a lot of fun doing it. No more weird thoughts and feelings for a while.
It wasn't until a couple or so years later when the topic came up again, this time much more consciously than before. I don't even remember the circumstances anymore, I just remember that I brought it up one day to my then-boyfriend, the first serious relationship I was ever in. For some reason I told him that I liked looking at girls, and how looking at some of them makes me feel. Of course his reaction wasn't exactly of the most positive kind, so from then on I mostly kept my thoughts on this to myself - which intensified over time, without me ever acting on any of them.
It's just a phase... it'll pass... you know. Massive self-denial.
Since then I mostly ignored it when I came across a girl I felt attracted to. I secretly looked at lesbian porn on the internet, and submitted my profile to one or two gay personals sites, but never really following up on anything. I had (and have) occasional surges of NOW I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, but the ambition died away almost as soon as I was done making plans on how I would go about it.
I got older, and along with it a bit more secure about myself and what I am. I started to tell the guys I was with. Most of them liked the dirty fantasies that my revelations apparently put into ther heads, but that was ok. It was positive reinforcement of some sort. Then one day I was faced with massive rejection and disgust, as I opened myself up to one guy, who then all of a sudden thought me untrustworthy, ambiguous, and unable to be in a monogamous relationship, just because I am interested in both genders. I was confused and hurt - but later I found out that said ex was left by a woman for another once. Ok, that would explain it, but I was still deeply offended by his notion of me being potentially more unfaithful, just because I felt attracted to women just as I did to men.
Life went on as usual. Until the drunk incident. Oh, boy. Those two girls in that strip bar were so obviously trying to pick me up, both of them, but I was far too wasted to even respond to them with as much as a nod of my head, and my first real potential opportunity with a female drowned in the swamp of alcohol that my brain had turned into that night. A bummer which I would regret for longer than it took to get rid of my hangover... lol.
Anyway. When I met my now-fiancé, I decided to be very bold. I decided not to allow anyone to put me down anymore or make me feel abnormal anymore because I was different, and I wanted to be frank with him from day one, see how he reacted to it, and then take it from there. So I told him: "I am a bisexual."
He said. "Oh, cool."
Turns out to my surprise that my beloved had, in the course of his life, slept with more guys than with girls. A bisexual himself!
Hello! What a turn on... but not only that, I finally felt that I had found someone who understands, and who doesn't judge, and who lets me be who I want to be, no questions asked. We had a few points of friction when he one day proclaimed that I wasn't a "real" bisexual, because I have never had any actual sexual contact with a female, and as long as it's just in my head, it doesn't count. I very strongly disagreed, and by now I believe he knows that I am not just all talk and dirty fantasy. :)
We've been talking on and off about "doing something about it", meaning to bring a girl into our bedroom for me to have fun with. Whereas I like the idea and the fantasy of it, I never was actually bold enough to act on it, and I also find it a tad too superficial... so now I have an open minded and above all supportive and encouraging partner - and I am STILL a bisexual virgin! LOL
Right now I am in another one of those NOW I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT phases. And this time I think I will go through with it, to whatever outcome. I am determined to become who I know I am, and to (slowly and eventually) let the world know about what I really am. This blog is a beginning. I have given this link to a very select and trustworthy few who are NOT part of my family, or my roommates, or my best friends, or any other person who knows me in real life, and I am hoping that eventually I will get some input from other people like me who happened to come across this website one way or another.
I will talk about what triggered this sudden determination of mine in my next entry.
