||[Mär. 12., 2019|10:13 am]
So I have a lover. It finally occurred to me (while reading yet another short story about middle-class infidelity) that that was a word coined to describe the kind of relationship I have with Pasillero. We're all liberated and shit, so we don't have to sneak around and do this on the sly, but otherwise it's not greatly different than the arrangement loads of married couples have had throughout the years.
Part of me keeps expecting things to end at any time, so though I've always made jokes about regularity (calling him "my Hump Day man" almost from the beginning), I've also been trying to take things one week at a time. But it's been six months already and we've settled into a nice rhythm, so maybe I can relax a bit? We'll see if I'm capable of that.
Meanwhile, I don't know how to describe my relationship to Ginger Cowboy any longer. I thought there was none, I thought things had finally faded to the point where we were each just Someone I Used to Know to each other, but he just sent me another invitation to come out and see him. I begged off, citing Liver Laddoo's health, but that's a convenient excuse.
The real reason is that I can't imagine getting together with him again without a good heart-to-heart about expectations and boundaries and he's no good at that kind of thing. We haven't spoken in months and, although we text intermittently, it's almost entirely in the form of links to songs.
For a while, I treated that as a kind of dialogue, trying to interpret the lyrics each time and respond in kind, but I eventually decided I ain't got time for that. If you have something to say to me, say it clearly. I'm no longer wasting my time trying to divine your feelings from a trashheap of mediocre poetry. So now I just send a song I like that his choice brought to mind.
Like this morning, for some reason, he sent me a link to Bronski Beat's "Smalltown Boy". I guess because he relates strongly to it? But it made me think of a Kitchen of Distinction's song which is, arguably, the same situation seen from a different, more positive angle ("We took the train to London / On the Bed-Pan freedom line / Going to a nightclub, oh, to a nightclub in Soho") so I spent some time hunting that down. (I couldn't remember the damn title, which is "Japan to Jupiter".)
Will the choice be intelligible to him? Probably not? Will he ask for an explanation? Definitely not. It's a strange form of intercourse to have with someone, but one that the communications technology and protocols of our age make strangely easy to continue.