So, strangely enough I met someone. I say 'strangely', because as I am in official mourning I wasn't even thinking about relationships, I pretty much cannot thinking of anything at all most of the time. But there she was. Waiting to be introduced around town, wanting to be part of the 'gay loop'. I didn't know I was such an integral part of the loop...
We met on March 5th and by March 15th we had had such a massive falling out that we may never be able to recover our friendship, never mind our fledgling relationship.
Amongst the other issues she was experiencing (rape trauma, adoption trauma, recent convert to Judaism, considers herself to be a Marxist, breaking up of 6yr relationship, hormone imbalance meaning she considers herself intersex, male-identity jealousies, polyamorous lifestyle, 51yr old ex, gf working for woman she had cheated with, woman they wanted to add to their relationship is dying, preference for BDSM, no epilation of any area of her body, zero self-confidence, father falling apart with Alzheimer's, Hispanic mother in denial about her husband's illness and her daughter's gender, sexuality and decision to not be teetotal), she is also seven years younger than me; a student whereas I am a member of staff at the University.
I thought: Fuck. I cannot have all this shit on my plate as well as my own stuff. That is too much by anyone's standards...
But she is awesome; she plays the guitar, writes poetry, produces art, is ridiculously intelligent (she went to Uni at 16 - at which point she got to choose between that and attending the American Ballet School), slender, a wee bit shorter than me, more boi-ish than I, speaks Spanish, is thoughtful, funny, generous and all this together makes her sexy. She has worse skin than mine, which would make me disinterested usually, but just makes me feel more beautiful around her - which is obviously a bonus.
With the ten days since we shook hands at our first meeting, we shared, laughed, held hands, flirted, slept next to one another and finally confessed that not only do we think we are both each other's new BFF, that we actually fancy each other and don't just want a shag, but potentially a relationship - a serious one. She says she has strong feelings for me and I am only the fourth person she has met who she has wanted to love; I am the only person she has slept next to in 6yrs apart from her gf.
It was all too soon and too intense. It was my fault. I should have seen that she was in too complicated a place to deal. I should have realised her flirtations were serious but that she couldn't follow through as I had expected. I had assumed that once she was free she would be able to come be my lover, my support, my heart. She couldn't. She still had all her shit and couldn't be expected to take on mine, too. More's the pity. I really need a friend, an ally. I wanted her to stay over on Sunday night; not for sexytime, but to have someone to hold me.
I want to walk proudly through the streets holding her hand, take her to parties, introduce her and say 'I'm her gf' (I assume with her gender issues she wouldn't want to be called my gf or bf - and I hate partner or SigOther or Better Half), make photos together, do art, play the piano as she plays the guitar, tell my friends about her, be excited about her, about us. I wanted it all too soon, too fast.
I let myself imagine the future, us being happy and healthy together; it was ridiculous - we hardly know one another. She has no idea what I am like when I get PMS, when I have stresses from my family, how I am getting on with my super-slow PhD. Our backgrounds are SO different. Her family never took pictures; mine are obsessed with recording every event with a bunch of photographs. She has seen very little of her home country and had never before come to Europe; I have travelled internationally and experienced more of her home nation than she. She doesn't like parties; I love them.
We felt so connected that we shared our stories, our most intimate secrets - her gender stuff, her rape, her gf's suicide attempt; the fact that since my heart was last broken I haven't had sex (does virginity grow back?). How mortifying. I even called her sobbing down the phone because her voice made me feel better. I am meant to be a grown up!
But now we are at an impasse, because I got cross and manipulative when I didn't get what I wanted. She got upset and we haven't been able to get back to where we were on Thursday, before the night of her breakup, her drunkenness, my misinterpretation of her affections being the beginning of something more, my feeling that I have been lead on.
It cannot work, can it?
