Wow. It's been a... fairly eventful few weeks since I wrote that. Not even sure where to begin to write... (though before I start I'll say that none of this is tragic, just emotionally a lot). Perhaps this is a songfic of an entry. Wait I suppose not everyone had a few years where they seriously consumed erotic fan fiction, but it doesn't matter - having lyrics to hang this on helps me somehow.
So... there's an Ani DiFranco
song that, unsurprisingly has been mentioned on this site
before (I checked to make sure I hadn't quoted it before). And it's one that I listened to on infinite repeat in like, March-April of 2020, when I was... well, ya'll were here for *
that*. Seriously though, listen to the song it's UTTERLY gorgeous.
you are a miracle but that is not all
you are also a stiff drink and i am on call
you are a party and i am a school night
and i'm lookin' for my door key
but you are my porch light
...
but i stand committed
to a love that came before you
and the fact that i adore you
is but one of my truths
I've written about the poly vacation villa before -
not my concept, of course, but it's useful - and how I don't want to be that or have my partners be that. And I *think* that Artist and I have moved past that but sometimes I'm terrified we haven't and won't... not that it matters in many ways as what we have is so fucking beautiful but sometimes my RSD makes me worry. I'll come back to why.
It feels like everything is a school night right now, even things that explicitly and emphatically are not. Knight got the new job, which is going to be a MASSIVE amount of adjustment and is really amazing for him, I'm thrilled, except for the moment we've lost the ability to talk about anything else. We went out to have dinner and watch a movie - Last Duel, which is... ok, triggering as fuck if you can't deal with rape scenes, and wildly inaccurate in SO many ways as far as 14th century material culture (clothing, armor...) and yet captures the ... *feel* of medieval nobility in both crudeness and virtue more than anything I've ever seen - and we had a hard time coming up with conversations that weren't about work or money. So there's that flavor of school night, where everything feels good but so very fucking practical.
And kiddo is having such a hard time with the concept of school - one of his teachers is somewhat terribly stern which is ... I think it works for other students at that school but is the worst thing ever for my kid. Navigating that is... something. So the phrase "school night" is also my every day, seems like, and in ways I 100% wasn't prepared for. Kiddo is struggling at best; in emotions he reminds me of me at his age, and the only difference is that I take him seriously which is something my parents didn't do. And yet when he's defiant in ways I was never allowed to be or even considered being because I was scared of the (abusive) consequences.... the amount of sheer rage I feel and struggle to not express at both the unfairness that I wasn't allowed to express my own defiance, and his actual actions I am trying to overcome is ... yeah. Ya'll get the idea. And yes, rage at a ten year old is a terrible look and I keep it to myself as much as I possibly can but I have to acknowledge how very triggered I am sometimes. So sometimes I feel like my romantic relationships CAN be my stiff drink when I ought to be on call and yet some days one just needs that...
And Artist is exactly the stiff drink - the endorphins of kink/sex cannot be overstated - I crave his touch sometimes or maybe all the time... but I struggle with trying not being _his_ stiff drink or
bad idea bear... he's currently prepping for interviews for going from contractor to full employee at that Company You Have Heard Of that is _notorious_ for having a ridiculous interview process, and so decided to not spend the night with me tomorrow. I want to be ok with this - I mean, what is one night in the context of the rest of our lives? - and yet I somehow wish he'd ... I don't know, prep here instead and have an evening that ended up kind of like
this one. But I don't think that's how his brain works and I'm trying to be ok with that but my RSD is being a *bitch* on that front. And I don't even want to say anything because I *know*, deep down, that it's just brain tricks.
... and maybe I should just celebrate instead. Writing that I realize that Artist loving me has hit the same level of ... truth of the universe that Knight loving me has... "gravity is down, water is wet, Knight loves me, Artist loves me". it's... fact. And while I never want to take those things for granted - not even gravity, call that shorthand for mindfulness - it's still _truth_. And one or two nights of choosing the rest of his life over spending time with me doesn't change that no matter how much my traitor brain says it means something it doesn't.