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Posts Tagged ‘divorce’

Cooper Fiennes got a visit from his wife on Sunday. I mentioned this, right? That he is technically married? She left him for a myriad of her own reasons, mostly it seems, she just wasn’t in love with him the way he loved her. It wasn’t his decision and he misses her madly. We talked about his love for her one night while we were taking a break during sex. We both believe in the hearts ability to expand so that it loves multiple people over a lifetime. That love doesn’t cease to exist for someone merely because the relationship is now over, or the status is complicated. We believe that the more one loves, the more capable or love one is.

I don’t expect to hear from him for a few days. I believe he needs some time to mourn. She is moving to NYC, a dual citizen, she has that freedom. Her trip to see him on Sunday was one to discuss logistics such as the sale of the car, the financials, the signing of the divorce papers once one or both travel back to Barcelona. Their physical location makes the divorce harder because it needs to be filed in Spain. Each day he goes without the split being finalized, is a day he is unable to fully move on.

I made myself available in anyway that could be helpful. I told him that if he needed a friend later in the day, a lover, or just a silent fuck, let me know.  He texted me in the early evening letting me know that he had opted to play soccer for 3 hours in the heat after she left, that he was emotionally spent and exhausted and just without words, but that he would resurface soon. I’m not concerned. Our situation is one without the emotional complications of a traditional relationship. We merely are, what we are. Until that is an issue or complication, we are happily floating in our little sexually charged private world, away from the trappings of what if’s and if only’s.

I have been meeting a lot of divorcee’s this last 6 months. Are there more people getting divorced or is it just that I have hit the age group where people who married young are suddenly running for cover? Had I married my ex fiance, we would be divorced by now. She was a train wreck. thank god for small miracles.

This week’s web-syndicated post is running a day late due to technical issues with our syndicater www.thenewgay.net . They are back up and running smoothly now, so check them out for more great queer coverage!

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The last few days have been rather interesting. If you have been reading chronologically, you already know that I finally got laid. Well, Mr. Bratty McLawyer is worse than any goddamn lesbian I ever dated. We had sex Wednesday night, Thursday I had errands and at one point he texted me and asked what I was doing, I explained that I was at a specialty grocery store. Now, just because this store is in his neighborhood, does NOT mean he should come and surprise me. Maybe he was so enamored by our mutual lack of orgasms that he needed to see me again, less than 12 hours from when he dropped me off at my home. So, he surprised me by turning a corner and appearing. Cute-ish, I guess. Now, the next day, I spent several hours consoling my ex girlfriend who is in an AWFUL relationship. After such an exhausting conversation with her there was a great need for a relaxing bath and the huge macaroon I had bought the night before. Stripped down, I stepped in. Within 45 seconds of settling into the tub and shoving a huge piece of the macaroon into my mouth, a text message came through.  Bratty McL was checking in, wondering what I was doing. Just stepped into a nice relaxing hot bath I replied. What are YOU doing, I asked back. His response aggravated the living hell out of me. “About to join you in the bath” he replied. Umm, wtf? Huh? THEN my buzzer rang. Are you fucking kidding me? Who comes over without an invitation?! I ended up getting out of the tub, dressing, and walking over to a local bar for a cocktail. Now, aside from the fact that he showed up uninvited, and pulled me from a relaxing soak, when the bill came, he had me chip in for my one cocktail.  Hmm, you think you might be able to buy me an $8 cocktail when you inconvenience me? Maybe? Grrr. Finally I get to go home…alone. Hours late, and not in the mood, he shows up on-line and starts instant messaging me. I had considered going out to a huge arts event that night, but after feeling run down and bombarded by other peoples psychic drama, the idea of a large group of strangers was less than appealing. I was bored though, so I strolled the online sites and found a deadly handsome man, who had just relocated from Barcelona, to chat with. He looked like a cross between Bradley Cooper and Ralph Fiennes and was utterly charming. As Mr. Cooper Fiennes and I were discussing meeting up the following day, I was trying to end my chat with Bratty McLawyer. I told him I was going to bed, he then asked to call me, so that he could say hear me say goodnight. Ugh, GAG. I told him that my phone was charging in the other room and that I was unable to call him at the moment, so a virtual goodnight would have to do. I could hear his whining tone in the way he typed his disappointed, “fine, okay, goodnight then.”  He is needy AND annoying. The self-righteous and condescending attitude hasn’t disappeared. After knowing that I love trip hop AND that I have numerous friends who are DJ’s, he suggested that surely I don’t really like DJ’s, since I appreciate serious musicians like Pat Methany? I must be joking.  Ok, now you must go away. Really?! So, electronic music ISN’T music now?! Really? Goodnight Bratty.

The next day I had an appointment across the river. I texted Cooper Fiennes to let him know that I would be out of my meeting by 2:30, if he was interested in grabbing a coffee then. The weather was amazing and the idea of great conversation on a patio with an attractive man was splendid. We met outside Starbucks. First impression in person… even sexier than he looks on-line. He is working in medicine, plays music, has great taste in music, including electronic acts, is stunning…with the type of bone structure that takes your breath away. So HOT. Always a pleasant surprise when the date is hotter than their pictures, especially when their pics are already pretty goddamn good! We walked around, laughed, talked music, talked business…both his and mine, talked art and his soon to be ex-wife. Amicable split, still good friends. Is he looking for love? Not particularly. He is in town for a residency fellowship and, in 6 months, he may move back to Spain. Hot summer fling with a sexy guy from Barcelona until then? Why the hell not?! We spent 4 hours together and I suddenly realized it was 6 pm. I was supposed to be back in the same neighborhood at 8 for my drinks and movie with Type Geek. I had to get home, wax, walk and feed the dog, change and get back to the same place I was at that very moment…in 2 hours. I bid adieu to Cooper Fiennes and hustled home.

I realized upon arriving home that not only did I NOT have enough time to wax, but that even if I did… my skin wouldn’t be relaxed anytime that evening. So, my “Just in case we end up making out hot and heavy” wax turned into a bathtub soak and …shudder…. shave. EEEK. I made it out the door and back to meet Type Geek around 8:15. Not too bad! Now, Type Geek has been rather shy with me. Interested, I have presumed, but shy. Not very physically aggressive. Granted, I haven’t been fully falling at his feet, but I have been leaving him openings. On our last date, I finally kissed him. I then told him that he didn’t need to wait for me to kiss him next time. He promised he wouldn’t. So, I was curious what would happen this evening.

He popped the wine and began making some snacks for us. We sat and chatted at the kitchen table, drinking wine, listening to music, occasionally googling something that came up in conversation…but never discussing the movie. I touched his arm or back or chest or head…several times, no moves. Sigh. Ok. FINE. Hours ticked by. We scrolled his iTunes library and laughed at some of the old school tunes he had, like stuff from Anthrax, whom I loved as a teenager. I’m standing 5 inches away from him. Is he just interested in me as a friend? If so, that’s fine… but what is going on here? At 1:5o am, roughly 5.5 hours since he picked me up at the train, I consider that all hope is lost. I resign myself to this. We joke about his unmanly amounts of shoes and he tells me of a pair that are so ghastly, his friends ridiculed him the only 2 times he wore them, so now, they live in the closet. I asked to see them and he retreated to the bedroom closet to find them. A minute goes by and I followed after. I climbed onto the bed and started petting his cat while he dug out the shoes. When they appeared, I agreed with the response of his friends. Just then, his cat runs off. I stay sprawled out on the bed. I am tired and the bed is really cozy… there is not incentive to leave. We keep chatting and then he begins picking cat hair off my shirt. In my mind I think, yeah, friends. He is picking cat hair off my shirt…not kissing me and here I am laying on his bed. 5 minutes of cat hair picking and he finally decides to kiss me. Bravo Type Geek!

He doesn’t stop at kissing me though… and I decide to go with it. He’s a really nice guy and a great kisser so I decide to ignore the physical road blocks I do have and just enjoy whatever is going to happen. Is he shooting for 2nd or 3rd base tonight? Within a half hour, I am mostly nude. Within an hour, I am singing the praises of all the great things he can do with his mouth and within an hour and a half… I am having sex again. Whoa. nothing for 6 months and then….2 men in 4 days?! EEEK! Ok, feeling a LITTLE trashy, but I will get over it. Especially since McBratty Lawyer is NOT getting anymore sex from me. The sun is coming up when we finish and we sleep for a few hours. His cat wakes me up by burrowing into the back of my thighs and overheating me from the sheer amount of warmth coming off its furry little body. Half awake but sleepy, I shuffle away from the cat and cozied into Type Geek’s chest, absent-mindedly petting his bare skin with my free hand as I laid there. Eventually the petting became mutual, and less absent-minded. After 2 hours of lazy but intense foreplay we went for a 2nd go around. Sunday morning sex truly is great, not having to get up and be anywhere, laying in bed naked for hours afterwards… what a relaxing way to spend a morning. We finally gave in and got out of bed. I needed to get home to my pooch and we both desperately needed some coffee so we got dressed, ran to the Whole Foods, grabbed some coffee and then he gave me a ride home before venturing out for his afternoon bike ride with friends.

I honestly did not think that Type Geek would come through last night. I especially did NOT think he would venture towards sex, since we hadn’t even had a hot and heavy frustrating make out session yet. Above both of those however, I had never considered that HE would be so good in bed or that I would go to bed with him since there were a couple things I was on the fence about with him. Well, damn, if you can push my buttons and get me to curl up in a ball and laugh out loud, you have done a fine job. Type Geek had me laughing my ass off. He done good.

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This isn’t as insidious as it sounds. We are NOT talking Wakamezake, Yeastiality, Nyotaimori, Sitophila or even basic fruit or vegetable fetishism here. I use the title as a way to explain how one looks at food when on a liquid dietary cleanse. Food itself becomes an untouchable tease. I found myself looking at cookbooks and the “kitchn”, a sub blog of  http://www.apartmenttherapy.com . I found my flirtations with the men I was meeting online to be food focused. We talked food into each other’s virtual ears like some people talk dirty as foreplay. The things we would do with respective organs and orifices was replaced with what spices belonged in a Moroccan quinoa salad or the perfect lamb preparation. Whispers of dessert were almost too much for us to handle, so we hinted at dried fruits, rice puddings, carrot cakes with cream cheese frostings and the perfect apple pies. It was good to eat again. Like cumming off my 4 year celibacy, feeling the texture, smelling the aromas and tasting the fruit, the buttered toast, the flaky oven roasted cod, as they came across each taste bud. Mmmm, the Master Cleanse allows you to reestablish your relationship with food in a way that is more respectful and mindful. Food is sensual. Food should be sensual. Not fast, tasteless, and cheap, like a bad date with a low rent prostitute. Sigh. It’s nice to eat again.

So, I have a date with Type Geek this week, Frenchie has officially finished his paper and we should be rescheduling our rain check for an upcoming day, and a new couple of contacts are on the horizon as well… Political Satirist guy and Art Gallerist guy. The fascinating this is ALL of these men are foodies. While Brooklyn loves my food, he isn’t at all a foodie. In fact, he does admit an occasional fast food indulgence, but usually he has the typical suburban family meal. While, two of the four other men are also divorced dads, they have had a more diverse relationship with food over their lifetimes. It will be interesting to get into these other men’s ahem…. kitchens and see what they can do. I like to see how a man handles his culinary tools.

Tuesday posts are web-syndicated by http://www.thenewgay.net

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Sigh

Can I be angry that I met him? Now, during all this chaos of his? The timing, I mean, what does it mean? I DON’T want to hang out with other people, I want to hang out with him. SIGH, motherfuckin SIGH. Why did he come looking for me and why did he find me now? He’s not ready for me. Well, he is the one that said hi, and continued to say hi and eagerly said, well HI. So, how do I deal with this? How do I pretend I didn’t meet someone who feels like they were always there? Like they aren’t new. Like they’ve been there forever? How do you disengage from that? Should I even disengage? Am I being impatient? I’m not asking for some huge committment from him at the moment, I just don’t want the connection to go away. Feeling so plugged in to another individual that silence says more than words. UGH and SIGH. So, what do I do with all this? I can’t sleep at the moment. It’s been raining and raining and flooding outside, the crazy barometric pressure has my head wanting to explode and I have tons of work to do for various projects I am involved in. Yet, I am not distracted enough by any of that to forget about him and how good it feels just to be sitting next to him and holding his hand, no words, nothing besides that quiet connection that screams louder at me than anything I can remember.

Sigh.

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Brooklyn and I have been having some strangeness since we almost had sex. He has grown distant, become quieter, looked me in the eyes less. Things are off. Things are wrong. We met for a little under 2 hours last Thursday. The weather was beautiful so I drove up to his town to take my dog to the beach and meet him for a little down time. The friend vibe was palpable. It was strange. It wasn’t him.

We spent some time chatting on-line later that night, again, quieter, less verbose and interested. I tried kicking up the naughty flirt, to see how he would react, and he didn’t. Finally he commented that I “need to get laid”. Ouch. that didn’t feel like the previous we should get naked together comments he would pepper our occasional chats with. That felt like,”you should go fuck someone, not me, but someone.”  I was surprised that he would say something like that and even more surprised that it stung like it did.

I spoke with my pal Assoc. Prod/Musician about the situation and asked his advice. Should I write Brooklyn an email calling him out on the cold shoulder action and the sting of his “light-hearted” comment? AP/M and I agreed that I should step back from Brooklyn for a bit and that an email was justified. So, I wrote it up, had AP/M proof read for craziness and after getting the thumbs up, I held my breath and hit send.

The next morning I had an email from Brooklyn, apologizing for hurting my feelings with the comment, telling me that he has been scheduling me in when he doesn’t have time and that I have become inconvenient AND that ever since we almost had sex, which reaffirmed his feelings that he wasn’t ready to be that physical with anyone, he has been uncomfortable around me. Jesus Christ people!  He thinks I want more than him. Grrr Grrr Grrr, Argh Argh Argh

I have told him since the beginning that I never wanted him to turn me into a chore, a to-do list item that he needed to schedule around, a responsibility or a drama. That I was here as I am, to enjoy time together, when we have it. I originally said, “no sex til you are out of that house.” We agreed. He put MY hand DOWN his pants and on HIS cock in the family van the night of my b-day. I was following HIS lead. Who am I to say whether he is ready to be physical? This is his call. He seemed to be making the call by suggesting overnights, or getting naked together, or trips away. Are you kidding me?!

So,, now I have scared 34-year-old boy, back pedaling and hiding his head in the sand and looking for excuses. His email was line after line of excuses.  I responded in line that before he assume how much I am asking of him, how much I need or require, that he ASK me. I put the ball in his court. He needs to decide what the hell he feels for me. I am fine with a casual affair minus the sex. I care deeply for him but I can handle that. I am NOT fine with , ” but we will always be friends”, IF that is what he comes back with. Not now, maybe later, but I can not just suddenly turn a switch on how I feel about him and it would be completely unfair of him, after pursuing me, romancing me, telling me how wonderful and unique and stellar I am, to expect me to ignore the last month and act like we don’t have the connection that we both know we do.

Ok people, seriously, chime in here, cause I am uber annoyed. I told him I needed some space, atleast til Monday but I feel I am going to take more. I hate games, but he needs to remember why he likes me, he needs to feel my absence a bit. So, he can sweat this out a bit. I am not a fucking yo yo. So, what do you all think?  Is there a possibility that his head will come out of his ass? Should I do like the Clash? Should I stay (casually and realistically that this will be a SLOW drawn out process of self discovery for him) or should I go ?

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay,net

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My internal GPS is a little off these days. It seems that there are a lot of roads under construction and I haven’t yet updated the latest maps. In the 3 months since I started this site many things have happened. I have dated brothers, accidentally. I have been thrown out of a mall for making out with a 20 something kid, on a bench at 2 am, like horny teenagers. I’ve been stood up, stuck with the tab, and gone to 3rd base more times than I had in the last 4 years. I have figured out what I like and don’t like in men and in doing that, realized a bit more about what i did and didn’t like about loving women. I have also figured out some things about myself.

The big question right now is one of direction. While I haven’t officially stopped seeing other men, I haven’t been going out with them. I have lost interest in the chase, because in the end, it’s a lot of work for little reward. I enjoy hanging out with Brooklyn, regardless of what we do. Regardless if nudity and/or passionate making out is involved. I enjoy occupying the same physical space as him and just sitting. I am able to achieve an almost meditative calm with him that I can’t achieve at a Buddhist center in a structured session of sitting. So, where is this blog going? How do I bring the edge back? The humor? I realize that life is a series of moments and not all moments are filled with hilarity but that is why you all tune in, no? If you wanted bad romance, you would rent a copy of The Notebook and eat Haagen Daaz.

The last month has been interesting. Healing, in a lot of ways. Frustrating, in others. Trying to navigate the waters of this man’s personal river of separation, children, soon to be ex wife, and issues surrounding relationships and sex has been unlike anything I have experienced. I would love to hear from people out there who have experienced similar things. Perhaps you dated a divorcee with kids? Perhaps you are the ex wife; what were you feeling when he first started dating someone new? Maybe you are the dad, recently separated and moving on with your life. What were you feeling when you met someone new who you were really interested in? How did this factor into your life? Where there funny moments? Difficult moments? Please share your stories. Thanks everyone for hanging out with me and keeping me company on this journey.

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by http://www.thenewgay.net

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We agreed on a place and time. Talked several times during the day as I did laundry, showered, changed three times and finally picked up the rental car. He makes me smile. I save his texts for days because they are cute, honest, sincere and without pretense. He recites poetry verses or makes an ass of himself, only I don’t think of him as an ass, so it just endears him more deeply to me. He lets me know that he is thinking of me and that it made him smile and for that he is thankful. Who does that? We talk about wanting men or women, partners, lovers, etc that will bare themselves to us, but then we are turned away by it. The rawness somehow ugly. Brooklyn isn’t ugly though. It’s a calm quiet storm within him, but more about that later.

I text him that I was stuck on the wrong end of a drawbridge and will be there closer to 7.  He texts back that he is leaving his house in 5 and that he wins. I seethed in humor driven competition. Damn him! I am 5 minutes away, perhaps 7. I take a wrong turn and panic, damn, he is going to get there first. I finally find my way and then the parking lots are full. I am pleased however to see that his car is not there. Hmm, perhaps I can still win?! Just as I am trying to back out of the lot a couple approaches their car to leave. SCORE! I park, dig in my purse and pull myself together. I am almost to the entrance when I glance behind me and see him approaching. Ha Ha, I win! He gives me a quick kiss, even though we agreed that discretion in his own town is important. The impending divorce is not public knowledge and his ex just found out he is on a dating site. I don’t know how she could handle that he has met someone on the dating site. Although, women aren’t blind. I am sure that she suspects something, his behavior must be changed a bit.

The bar where we meet is packed. There are no discrete places to sit for a drink and so we decide to go elsewhere. We wander around the neighborhood a bit and end up in a friendly neighborhood pub. At the bar we stroke hands below the surface. We laugh, smirk, talk and stare at each other… still a little more obvious than not BUT hands stay below, where no one can see them. I admire a young girl who walks by, roughly 3 years old. The dad jokes with me that I can have her. I say, well, I don’t live in a little town like this, I live in a bigger city and I have a dog, how is she with dogs? The man then flirts with me a bit, funny that he does so in front of Brooklyn. Ballsy. He asks if Brooklyn is my husband, I laugh and say no. My boyfriend? Friend? Date? I just laugh. He then asks how Brooklyn is doing. As in, is he a good date? I laugh and look at Brooklyn, smile and respond to the ballsy guy,”He’s great. He’s awesome actually.”  The ballsy guy smiles, nods and says goodnight before heading back to his table. We finish up and then start walking over to the theatre for the show. I try to pull him into an alley for a kiss but he realizes he doesn’t have his ID on him and that we might need to run back to the car if they ask for it at will call. They don’t and I tell him that he missed out on a perfectly good kiss because he was over thinking.

We are the youngest people in the audience. The median age appears to be 65.We are relieved when the lights go down, allowing us the freedom to be affectionate without concern. He strokes my hands and wrists with his fingers and we lean into each other. He laughs and whispers in my ear that it is ironic how this is the longest he has seen me go without a smile, and that we are at a comedy show. Neither of us find the comedian’s routine to be that funny. However, he knows his audience and the crowd loves him. We just sit there laughing at each other and the people surrounding us. We are thankful for intermission. I rush down to the bathroom and when I get back to my seat, I cannot find him. I send him a text asking where he is, only to have him texting me back to join him for a drink at the bar on the first level. He flirts with me and keeps calling it our first date. I remind him that we have hung out 4 other times. He smiles and decides that he is going to call every date our first. He then proceeds to set me up for a fake interview for a book he is doing on Brooklyn. My face hurts from smiling.

We head back upstairs to the show, hoping that we have missed enough of the second act to make it bearable. Barely. On our way out we thank the comedian for a fun evening and head outside. As I try to extend my car reservation, it appears someone else booked it close enough to my reservation to give the night a wee  bit of bummer. I extend for as long as I can and decide, sometimes the late fee is worth it. We end up parked at the beach, in February. Standing in the sand, we kiss for a few minutes until my hands and ears go numb. It’s beautiful and in warmer weather, I am so there. We end up in the backseat of the car listening to Shudder to Think and making out. Nothing too dramatic. Hot, but also sweet. Yes, I do at some point maneuver a hand grab so I can have an idea of what I am dealing with. Apparently, much to my happy findings, the Catholic Polish have a thing or two in common with the nice Jewish boys I have known. Now, the backseat of a Scion isn’t all that roomy, let me tell you. But it’s nice. We don’t say much. We often don’t say much to each other. It’s as if we have the close comforting familiarity of old friends. Old friends who happen to be very hot for each other. I told him that I was planning on keeping him. That I ripped the tag off and threw away the receipt. He inquired about what I would do when he breaks, won’t I want to return him then. I laughed and explained that duct tape fixes most breaks.

We spent the remaining few minutes before I had to leave curled up together awkwardly. We just closed our eyes and enjoyed the quiet. The next 40 minutes were a whirlwind. He is roughly 49 minutes from my house , we were ten minutes from the location I map-quested originally, so add-on another 10 minutes. He drove us back in the rental to his car and led me to the highway on ramp. The car needed to be back in a half hour. I am an hour away and have 30 minutes to get there. I call to let them know I will be about 10 minutes late and speed down the highway going close to 90 for most of it. I make it there in a hair under 40 minutes, including a pit stop at my house to drop off my laptop so I am not carrying that home on the street at 2 am asking to be mugged. We text back and forth a few times as I walk home, he had asked to hear from me, to make sure I arrived safely. Knowing how fast I was driving, he was worried. He left me cute messages and then we said our good nights. We talk everyday now. Is this strange?

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