Sunday May 3, 1995
It’s probably a good thing, I waited until today to write. Just a few hours ago, I was still convinced I was going through a change of personality.
Feeling all feminine and flowery, and Laura Ashley-like to a degree that was entirely not me, but that I for some reason suddenly aspired to become.
And it wasn’t just because my former long-term lover Bear called me, although that certainly didn’t help.
I felt very relaxed talking to him, in my newly found toned- down, softened state.
As if I could finally compete with whomever it was I needed to compete with this time.
Because I had the feeling his monogamy is coming to an end, or has already been broken.
Technically, I don’t know the details now anymore than I have done in the 5 years we were “together”.
Aside from the few odd months when I didn’t see him, and suspected it was because he was monogamous.
It’s not that I don’t endorse that, it’s just that for me, it’s not very interesting.
I’d much rather have him not choosing me, when he’s single or if there are multiple women involved.
Sometimes I surprise myself, how competitive I am. Even when I m obviously losing because he broke up with me last December.
Aside from the very occasional phone call, or the even more infrequent time we see each other for a cup of coffee, there is barely any contact with me and Mr.Bear.
And yet, the moment I feel he’s coming from a place of strength, I can feel that old sexual tension flaring up between us.
The game of poker, where I – you know, I wanted to say “pretend”? Where I pretend to support him? But that’s not true at all. I actually do support him.
It’s just that supporting a monogamous relationship is not very exciting.
And I love it when I get the feeling he’s all tangled up in exciting things, because then at least there’s something to fight over.
I remember his periods of monogamy, in however few words they were marked or mentioned, as a time-out.
Someone taking himself out of the game.
But something about the way he called me last time, convinced me he was back into it.
And that the pieces had been moving on the board.
My instincts told me, he had introduced another piece on it, another woman.
Someone who wasn’t me, obviously.
I think I should have been furious, insecure or insulted. Having him break up with me in December, because he was going into a real and serious relationship where he felt a lot of responsibility, leaving me man-less, lover-less, sex-less;
Only to then choose someone else to break his monogamy with.
Again, assuming I read between the lines correctly. He didn’t say anything.
But regardless of what he had or had not already done on the side, my dominant emotion was:
“Damn! You’re back on the board, aren’t you?”
A chance to be with man, not without.
With lover, not without.
A chance to not “celebrate” my Year Without Sex, in July.
Yes…. it was a good day to feel all feminine and soft, when I picked up the phone.
That was something he could not prepare for. An energy I don’t usually have.
And although I ve now realized this entire Little Miss Cute charade, needs to go Pronto!, it was a nice thing to have, for a few days.
Because I tracked it this morning. When did it start? Was it when he called?
And I discovered it wasn’t.
A few hours before his call, I had been walking around the flea market, on Queens Day.
And I was browsing for movies on VHS.
And whether by chance or because I was feeling all Pretty in Pink already, I ended up buying movies particularly aimed at women.
I liked adding them to my collection, and yesterday I watched Dirty Dancing – more about that later.
But this afternoon, I knew:
Great thing, as a social experiment, to dabble with feeling feminine once in a while. And what a coincidence Bear called; That conversation was definitely won by me.
But – Don’t make a career out of it.
Don’t get used to it.
Don’t make any plans that involve:
“And then there was Lauren, who looked so sweet and kind, and she was such a good friend, loyal employee, warm and loving girlfriend.”
Fuck all that.
And I think the reason was, because that movie Dirty Dancing, describes exactly what happens to you, if you are a good girl.
One of the earlier scenes shows the girl carrying watermelons into a bar where everybody is dancing the twist, which was considered an erotic form of dancing in the 60s.
She’s not supposed to be there, nor to stay there after she’s made her delivery. But she does and when Patrick Swayze asks their mutual friend what “she” is doing here, she defends herself:
“I carried watermelons.”
That’s my future if I continue playing all innocent and sweet:
Feeling out of place, in a room full of people having fun.
And I m the one who doesn’t belong there.
I don’t care the girl gets the main prize; the man who dances so sexy, and who has a healthy dose of self-esteem, and takes good care of himself and will now take good care of her.
I can do without sex, without Bear, and without any man for the rest of my life, if it involves carrying watermelons, wearing pink, or dirty dancing.
An unexamined life is not worth living
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When Your Innocence Dies | “1995”
is the second chapter to
1994 part 3: This Time I’m Staying
coming soon: new books
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- Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)
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2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
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