Well, that’s a title, isn’t it?
I’m pretty fond of it. It references an artsy movie from the 80s about Czechoslovakia, love, sex, humiliation and promiscuity, as well as Nietzsche, which is pretty good for a sexless sex blog, if I do say so myself. Weirdly enough, I often spend more time coming up with a title I like than I do writing the blog, although I don’t think I really want to ask if that part’s obvious…
Anyway, Theo is home from tour. *Cue happy applause.* We have not broken up, and I’m guessing we probably won’t. In a move no one could have anticipated, I engaged in the whole “having and expressing needs” thing that my therapist is so fond of, and…amazingly enough, got a few met. It’s all very strange, actually, and not like me at all. If my life were a movie, everyone would have walked out already because of the terrible and unrealistic writing.
However, the soundtrack ROCKS.
By “home,” of course, I really mean “within a few hundred miles,” which is better than “on another continent.” The weasels and I joined her on a road trip this last weekend, and got to see, up close and personal, exactly what’s going on when she’s too busy to call…and it’s not pretty. But we knew what to expect, and the weasels got to enjoy a little room service and a big pool, and I got to stretch my “driving all night” muscles.
As cool as it was to be there, I still think I need to start a support group for folks who fall in love with gods.
I find myself in an odd position here, because Theo is a very private person, and so a lot of what I normally would have thrown out onto the screen without a second thought is now something I need to consider keeping much closer. I’m thinking about Kyle, too, and where he and we are.
Something I can share, I think, is that I got a very early birthday present today. I was supposed to get it in a few days, but I asked nicely, so Theo sang Rocky Horror for me. She was in a cast back in the day, and she’s DAMN FINE at it still. She performed it once before for me, and it takes my breath away, she’s so good. The movie plays in the background and she sings all the parts, with all the little bits added, and my theatre geek soul flutters with happiness.
But that doesn’t really tell you what happened, because it’s easy to enjoy someone you love being sexy. It’s much harder to survive the bits between, because very few people manage to be sexy when they’re scared, frustrated or angry. The work of a relationship is the combination of harder moments like communication (or lack thereof,) yearning, need, confusion, exhaustion and, yeah, fear. The short version is that she trusted me with something scary, and, god help me, I felt less alone. Gods aren’t used to being vulnerable, and sometimes they forget to let the shields down. A moment of intense connection becomes the glue for the rest of the moments, but it obviously doesn’t fix everything. There’s a lot I still have to work on, and think on. I need to learn to express my fears without falling victim to them, and I need to learn to trust.
Damn, that’s a hard one. Trust.
In a moment when I was pretty sure I could never learn to trust the way I should, I suggested that perhaps we were – she was – better off apart. She could find someone better suited for dating a god.
“It doesn’t work that way,” she said, in a gentle voice. “You and I are in this together.”
It’s a brave, new world, to be sure. Working on it – not just painting it over with a nice, clean whitewash. Not just chucking it overboard. This is the hard stuff, the AP version of the classes I haven’t exactly been acing all along.
And we’re in it. Together.
