Bisexual Girls Club

I wish I could have voted against Prop 8!

My usually very straight acting husband, Lex, dared me to post this:

Thanks a lot. I’m never giving you any of this [penis] ever again. I’d rather fuck a guy. If I close my eyes it’s basically the same thing. I mean it’s gotta feel the same.

-Lex

We were having a silly fake argument and that’s what he said to me in retaliation for my joke, which very much offended him in a pretend sort of way. But seriously, that is the gayest thing I ever heard him say, so I really had to post this. It’s wonderful how we can amuse each other after more than 16 years together.

It makes me wonder a little, though, how easily he can act like someone else. He can just get inside the head of someone who would say something like that. He’ll sound like he means it and convince you…

Sometimes I wonder, who is my husband really? And when did he get so in touch with his gay side?

An ex-lover contacted me last week. The last time I emailed him, I told him I did not want to open up “this door” again. I guess he did not understand what that meant. Either that or he was bored and thought I would be an easy lay. I should have ignored his message, but I was trying to be nice. Eventually he asked me out to lunch. I declined and he said he understood. That seemed simple enough. He was never much for words. It just bothered me so much that he was so unmoved. And here he comes to disturb my peace. I mean I said goodbye and that was that. So why stir the pot suddenly if you don’t even care about the results? To me that’s just plain cruel.

He even told me long ago that he thought I was the one. Those words scared me and were not something I ever wanted from him. So if I would have slept with him regardless, why use such language when it’s meaningless? It’s just pointless confusion added into the mix and false complication which truly disturb me. I don’t understand people sometimes. How they can complicate a situation and not be affected. I like to keep things simple, but when it gets complicated, it affects me strongly and I take it to heart. Maybe I just wanted him to care a little more and that’s stupid of me. Because maybe I don’t want to be wrong in my initial thinking that he was different. And then it makes me wonder why I gave him as much time as I did. Why I cared even a little.

I was glad to be rid of him because I saw he could never really care very much. I got over him pretty soon after I said goodbye though I had to promise myself I wouldn’t think of him because it always bothered me how he could be so unfeeling with someone he had known from way back when. The history doesn’t mean much, I know, but shouldn’t it mean a little more than just a romp in the hay? Then he had to come by again and it doesn’t settle right for me. And his simple words just served to piss me off.

I used to think he was so patient and such a nice guy, but the truth is he was probably like that because he was just not a very passionate man; at least not passionate enough for me. I think I was into the idea of him more than the reality of him. I’m not even sure why I stayed with him as long as I did the first time. I don’t even know why I went back to him when he came looking for me the second time. I don’t know why I responded to him at all when he came looking for me this now third time.

He’d be good in bed once or twice, then it was just the same boring thing over and again. Unfortunately it wasn’t a very orgasmic experience overall. Pardon me, but if possible I want to have at least one orgasm every time. Okay, I’ll forgo it now and again without making a big deal about it, but when no orgasm becomes the norm – well you just can’t expect to keep a multi-orgasmic woman satisfied that way. I don’t think he even knows what a female orgasm is. That’s a pretty unfortunate thing.

So if it wasn’t the sex then I must have cared a little. Or maybe I wanted to care more. And that way it just wouldn’t be cheap sex. If it was great sex, then that would be okay too. That would be another story because I would know it was just lust and I could understand that too. But now I guess I don’t even understand myself either. I guess I just want people to give a damn and that right there is my freaking problem.

Finally I told him to get rid of my email address. I should have blocked him. “Okay, have fun.” Just a simple message from him – two days later. Again with the dispassionate tone. Why did he even bother to continue responding at that point? That really pissed me off. What makes someone contact an ex and not try to do anything meaningful with it? I reiterate, he just wanted to get laid. So I finally told him to leave me alone and that I would block him. Not my most mature moment. As I’ve already stated, I really should have just ignored his message. And now I have to put him out of my mind for good. I just hope he doesn’t change his email address again and try yet another time! I don’t want to have to change my email because this guy keeps wanting to scratch his itch as he pleases on my expense.

Some people think they can just call upon you whenever they please if you don’t explicitly request that they leave you alone. The way we left things the last time, anybody with a clue would not imagine they could come back again. We don’t even travel in the same circles. There was no longer any reason for us to look for each other.

So while I was willing to give a little more, he didn’t really deserve my friendship. I just wish he had been half the decent man he was when I first met him.

I guess you can only walk through the Ex Door once.

I never had slumber parties and pillow fights that turned into make out sessions with my best girlfriends. Finding out about other women’s experiences when I started dating them, I was intrigued by the kind of freedom they must have had to have discovered their true selves so early in life. I was always a late starter. Perhaps it always took me too long to prepare and feel comfortable with things that it’s possible I even denied certain feelings in me. Or maybe those feelings were just not ready to come out.

That night, however, I was ready to meet her. For some reason the promise of that night’s party really intrigued me. It seemed like it could be a night to just let myself escape any and all judgment. After all, it was about being accepted for being different. I have always felt I was a bit different. Not special because I was different, just kind of the oddball, even with my friends. Well, most people would just call me weird. I always had my own strange energy and glow about me. So, a BGLU (Bisexual, Gay, and Lesbian Union) party seemed like the kind of thing where maybe I wouldn’t be so strange. And hey, well, I was in college and I was sexually charged, so why not see what could happen. I did already admire one beautiful woman for the freedom she seemed to possess. I wanted to feel that for myself.

I didn’t really know what to think when I found myself on to the dance floor. But it wasn’t long before I felt a tingle. As I stood and danced next to this adorable red head I had never seen before, it now makes sense why it all seemed so natural. I didn’t even realize she was the same Junior, Rachel, who was in my art class. In my mind I really was seeing her for the first time.

I think she must have sensed the chemistry between us because as soon as I got close to her she didn’t push away. In fact she kept her spot next to me and wiggled her butt closer and closer as the music continued. She seemed to know what she was doing and I just wanted to stay close to her. I even forgot to feel awkward for that night. A little flirtation was all I needed to get me fired up.

Nothing happened that night, except that we built up the anticipation. We exchanged extensions and I impatiently waited for time to pass so I could call her at last. I always had a thing for redheads actually.

Except for the girl who I had a crush on (I realize now that’s what it was… I had no idea when it was actually happening) when I was in the first grade. This girl Amelia was in the fifth grade and my sister was actually jealous of her because when Amelia paid attention to me, I would kind of ignore others around me. Amelia was a very pretty brunette. I even remember seeing her many years later, after my sophomore year experience. I recognized her immediately and then I knew that Amelia was my first crush.

So back to the more future past… this redhead, Rachel, was quite lovely. And when I finally got her on the phone (a couple of days later I think – probably Monday – the party had been on Friday or Saturday) she sounded elated to hear my voice. I twirled my hair as we spoke. And then Tuesday would be time for another art class so I would get to see this lovely vision again. But honestly I had no idea what to do. It made me so nervous when I thought about the reality of it all.

So overcome with strange yet familiar feelings, I tried telling myself that I was just pretending. But when I remember the dance that night, there’s no doubt in my mind that what I felt was real. It really did hit me from nowhere so it’s impossible for me to have been pretending. It was the same kind of feeling I had when I looked into the eyes of that boy Angelo (throughout my years in High School), who always reminded me of that man in one of my favorite romance novels. Man or woman, the feeling of desire is something I cannot and have not ever been able to deny.

Eventually I visited Rachel at West Hall. Actually we just sat together outside the dorm on the lawn next to the Science Quad on a sunny day after class had ended. After another phone conversation and me not knowing what the hell to do next, but wanting so badly to see her and touch her again (I felt so uncertain of things I didn’t really even know what to say to her in class so I just sat next to her and trembled while other people were around), I insisted that we should really talk in person. So we talked about the fact that we liked each other.

Actually this was around the same time that Lex first suggested we have a threesome and so that’s probably why it was easy for me to pretend I didn’t really like girls. But the more I thought about things, the more I realized I was already being heavily influenced by both external and internal factors. Aside from Lex and his notions, there was that movie with Daryl Hannah and Peter Gallagher that inspired the desire in me. And I saw that way before college. Most importantly though, I couldn’t help tingling when I stood near Rachel.

Well, I did want to have a threesome with her… so it all starting spinning off that idea. I tried nervously to convince her to see things my way, and I really believe she wanted to have an adventure with me, whatever it might be.

It’s just that I was pretty scared and confused and sorting out what exactly was happening. I lacked confidence and understanding of such matters. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. I only knew that I had these feelings and I needed to do something about it. And I know now for sure that I had some feelings for her. Whether it was lust or more that that, it was undeniably a resounding leap outside of my straight life. This was the first expression of my bisexuality. And we would kiss for the first time surrounded by the soft light of her dorm room. I remember she always had a scarf draped across her lamp and some sweet scent that added a soft touch. It seemed so natural yet so strange at the same time. What does an 18 year old do with those feelings when she’s never been taught other than “when a man loves a woman?” Sure there were the members of the BGLU – but they were not like me. They were “the other.” Most of the ones who were out were artists and I didn’t know anything about them. I loved math and science. And although I have some creative bones in my body, I certainly couldn’t bet anything on my artistic abilities (at least not reliably so). So who could I relate to? Who could I really talk to? I’m not trying to make a metaphor out of that, just that it was a matter of where I felt comfortable being fully who I was. I guess I always felt stuck in between two worlds. Not enough in one or the other to fully be a part of either.

I remember that one day while Lex and I was were visiting Rachel in her dorm room, all three of us just talking and spending some time getting to know each other, she asked if I would take a shower with her and of course I obliged. We both touched each other kind of slowly like two young and naive virgins trying to guide each other through the unknown.

We would fool around here and there now and again for the next maybe couple of months. We even ended up in my dorm room and all three of us ended up taking a shower together (I was lucky to have a shower in my room!) since it was supposed to be a suite that I ended up getting all to myself for the Spring Semester. We tried all sorts of different permutations and really kind of tried to make it all work. But in the end what was “kinky” to Lex was Rachel’s “sexuality.” Hell, I thought it all went hand in hand , but apparently those were insurmountable differences. Rachel also told me that she began to have more serious feelings for me and couldn’t continue in a threesome relationship. And so we ended things saying it would be best if we remained friends.

Unfortunately the next year, I was not ready to see her again. Perhaps I was more broken hearted than I wanted to admit. When a person says I care about you too much so I’m leaving you, it’s very hard to swallow. And I wanted so badly to bring all my worlds together, but not being able to just soured me to the whole idea of my redheaded beauty. I was still too young to know that what I felt for her was real and not just me pretending to like girls. I wish I had been kinder to her the next time I saw her, when she entered into her Senior year and I into my Junior year in college. At a party she greeted me by tapping me on my back. And I simply ignored her, leaving her quite distraught (Lex described her reaction. I was too stubborn to look back). I apologized to her months later and she accepted it … but there was nothing left between us.

Yet, to this day I still remember what she smelled like. Especially after we showered together. I still have a couple of pieces of art work I created in that art class both during class time and after hours whenever she promised she too would be at the studio. Despite my artistic non-abilities, I did find a way to express that side of myself. Perhaps she inspired me with that first kiss.

New York Governor David Paterson has opened a phone line to determine how much support there is for his directive to recognize same-sex marriages from other states and countries. The call is simple and takes about 5 seconds.

Call: 1-518-474-8390

Here’s what happens:

Person on the Other End of the Phone: “Executive Chamber, may I help
you?”

You: “I want to voice my support for Governor Paterson’s same-sex
marriage directive.”

POTOEOTP: “OK, what’s your zip code?”

You: “11231 (or whatever it is).”

POTOEOTP: “OK, thanks, goodbye.”