Regrettably (or not) this is my second part of my temporary rant and venting from Love Gas – Part One. My apologies again to those readers who prefer funny, informative, or inspiring posts. I prefer them as well.
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In Part One I mentioned two other times when two previous close female friendships had been sacrificed and severed for new exciting, hopeful love with a new partner or fiancé. One of those two was by a former girlfriend and lover when she started dating a serious potential. I will start with her and make it short because the other “sacrifice” deserves much more time.
In the scheme of these two posts, closing down or allowing to fade away the relationship/friendship of former lovers or ex-spouses is commonly understood, accepted, and nothing really out of the ordinary. Mainstream society, or at least mainstream conservative society, seems to believe that once sexual relations have been had between a man and woman, woman and woman, man and man, or that they once passionately loved one another, then if that deep love doesn’t end with married until death, or until divorced, then it cannot be shared continuously and simultaneously with the newest lover.
I do not agree at all with this (American?) societal stigma, but for the sake of time and space I will not argue against it here and now. Prior to my entrance into the open-swinger polyamorous lifestyles many years ago, I have not had contact with any of my pre-open/poly lifestyle partners, except one. And she asks that for the sake of peace and her children, we keep it very discreet; at least until her children are grown and out of the house.
Ugh, yes it is complicated; especially for her. It is also too complicated to get into here. I considered not even mentioning it. Fortunately for the sake of peace and her children, we live over 300-miles a part and nothing at all has happened physically between us since 1989; way before her current marriage. We do have a long great friendship and she completely understands my warnings and the risks she – and to be fair me too – are taking inside traditional frameworks by NOT including him in the friendship! I’ve accepted that we agree to disagree on how divulging she might/should be with her husband. In the end, it is her business…. and it could become mine too somewhere down the road.
But in my honesty I have wandered off track.
Regarding my former open-swinger girlfriend – who I deeply care for and will always, and have loved deeply and still could – since we ended our “official” relationship, we have always maintained a close friendship. However, what has always frustrated and angered me is when a new “vanilla” man enters her life… our close passionate friendship vanishes. Then when it ends with Mr. Newman (probably because he senses there is another former lover he could NEVER surpass… like it’s a fucking competition anyway!) our closeness picks right up where it left off. I have expressed to her several times, ever since our official ending, how much that irritates me! But apparently (and we both laugh at this point) “I just don’t get it!” Well yeah, no shit Sherlock.
I have learned thoroughly now that I cannot be held or kept responsible for everyone’s “feelings”… and that so includes those men (BFH’s) I have never met! No surprise there Sherlock; duh, there’s a reason why I’ve never met them and may not ever! HAH! Hence, there’s the double-amplified curse/repellant I mentioned in Part One. Yes, I have been told that I would make the worst spy or secret agent. I will own that, proudly.
Now For the Really Big One
Several years ago at my favorite club to dance and to the best dancing music by one of Dallas’ best DJ’s, I boldly introduced myself to one of the most stunning women I had ever seen dancing. She was also there with a guy and noticeably dancing only with him; but he seemed very, very young. Here, I will call her Aphrodite and the image left, though not her… does not do her justice. Simply put she turns everyone’s heads; man and woman alike. She defines a pin-up girl to the max.
A day or two later we met for an afternoon lunch around the corner from her apartment. She had many questions for me. What made the afternoon more enjoyable, was her unabashed lack of timidness in expressing her thoughts and feelings; all carefully thought out. What I appreciated most about Aphrodite was that in less than ten-fifteen minutes, she let me know clearly she was lesbian. And she did it with no pomp or bitterness due to society’s treatment of gays and lesbians. I really liked that. I immediately respected her person and discarded every one of my heterosexual fantasies with her… as much as I hated to hear her proclamation. Imagine a boy with a 10-inch frozen icicle and it quickly melts under the 110 degree heat. Nevertheless, we have been close dear friends for over six years. Yet as is usually the case with gorgeous people, we were not immune to vulnerable moments sneaking into our close friendship.
The Risk versus Reward Dilemma
In the third year of our friendship, and during an emotionally disastrous ending to her then relationship with a pseudo-psychotic girlfriend, Aphrodite made many a wee-hour phone call to me asking me to drive over and be with her. She asked because she wanted support in not calling the ex-girlfriend and trying to quickly fix it all or understand it prematurely. This is not an easy road to tread as anyone can attest. Sometimes it really is best to leave things alone until the hatchets are buried. That was hard for her. Ring-ring, my phone goes off 12-midnight, sometimes 1:30am. Grab my keys, get in the car, drive forty-minutes to her place, talk, hug, hold her until we fell asleep. This continued for some three or four weeks.
Then one night late, while thanking me and kissing my cheek, she puts her hand down my shorts and proceeds to maul me. I cannot move — unlike my manly hetero part down there — DAMN IT! She notices my paralysis. “I don’t want to stop” she whispers, “but I will if you tell me.” Are you fucking kidding me!? I manage barely 3-seconds of brain activity and reply “The last thing I want is something like this to fuck-up our friendship.” That did not stop her. In fact, it probably fueled the moment.
A day or two later we talked about that “moment” and wonderfully made nothing big about it or let it define our friendship or situation. It was what it was. I wasn’t going to study it to death. More pressure was not what she required then. Many of our friends would later ask if we two were dating…an item. We had been seen spending a lot of time together. We’d laugh. I had surmised that she was maybe 90% lesbian, 10% bisexual (with the right guy?), but it was left up to her to determine that not me or the rest of the world.
Then a new “incredible” woman came into the picture three-four weeks later. Aphrodite was obviously very attracted to her and very hopeful and excited about their possibilities. Then the grand piano dropped from the 10th floor: “When you come over to hang out and spend the night, you must sleep in my guest bedroom now.”
I understood, but what she said did not sit well with me. She noticed my shocked perplexed expression. She explained to me that in the LGBT community, she would be ostracized for “being with” a heterosexual man. She kept saying “you can’t understand it” as if I were some dumb blood-flows-one-way horny Neanderthal. Granted that is the median in the male high-T world today, I mean there are a shitload of hetero alpha-males who delusionally want to CONVERT hot lesbians, but I am not even consumed by what or where I can stick my dick like the average hetero high-T male! I asked her “have I ever pushed you to be someone you’re not just to satisfy my brain-consuming libido!?” “Never” she answered, “and that is what I have always loved about you!”
But my simplistic logic wasn’t going to change anything. Her own image in the “abnormal” different culture of the LGBT community was more important than our intimate supportive friendship. Now I knew what it felt like to be a nigger in the 1800’s or 1940’s, 50’s, or 60’s – or more accurately all during European and North American slavery. Now I knew what it felt like to be a gay man in a horribly violent binary life-system in the bigot south. Now I knew what it felt like to be considered an inferior human being; pick any historical setting. Take it from me….it really feels like shit.
For 8-10 months Aphrodite and I did not talk. Since then she has been involved in a later new 18-month relationship to a truly wonderful woman. I am proud of Aphrodite for how she’s learned and matured, but to this day she doesn’t really know the depth of platonic hurt she caused. I have moved on from it and we still talk freely and openly as we always have. But she’s asked that I avoid alluding to that evening to her girlfriend or anyone else… and so that damn annoying question rears its ugly head again:
Why can you not openly comfortably talk to your B-GFH the way you talk and act around me!?
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