"I am his woman now."

A reader, one of my favourites and a hot 'n sassy grrl, recently suggested to me that the blog has been more "cute" than "hot" lately. I wanted to apologize because, in some weird way, I was disappointed to perhaps agree. But, my delightfully tawdry comrades, a lot has been going on here.

The last two weeks or so have been... interesting.

o Temporarily, and if I'm not successful, perhaps permanently, I seem to have lost my job. It's not so much as a recession thing with me (thank God for unions), but there is a labour dispute of sorts afoot in my world, and until or if it gets resolved in my favour, a lot of my energy lately is required elsewhere at the moment. I'm glad that I have solid take-action, adaptive skills.

o Dean decided to end things between us. Despite my saying from the outset, when she approached me as a lover, that I needed to take things slowly, it seems I wasn't being fast enough for her own relationship goals. No, I wasn't ready for, or even necessarily seeking, marriage after such a brief time together. Sorry.

We're still friends, and while I've barely heard from her lately, she did leave me a message just before I started writing this post.

o Shayne decided not so much to end us (I think), but to lurch in another direction which, it seems, has the fallout of ending us. I had always expected that, as we both dated others in our respective cities, new relationships with men and/or women were certainly possible/probable, but recent news was a little more than I would ever have expected.



Well befitting an Aquarius, being involved with Shayne has always been like trying to relate to rising and withdrawing tides. There's been delicious, poetic beauty in that, and yet... like a Jerusalem artichoke, my heart has opened with those rising waters only to close again when they receded, over and over. Recently, she approached me again to share how she had missed me, wanted and desired me, and we were cautiously talking once more about being together. I got her off over the phone again. It was nice. We had some really long, really great talks. We idly discussed her coming to Toronto for Pride. We discussed me visiting Chicago again.

And yet, from another crazy whirlwind, it's all changed. Again. Suddenly, she's making plans with another man and another woman (jackpot for her), and the three of them are aiming to develop their own bdsm/poly household. In the last fortnight, Shayne's fallen so in love that her life is changing into a whole, new course which effectively spells (another) end of what we had been nurturing.

Love is. Love doesn't work on schedules or on flight plans. As Kahlil Gibran writes, it "threshes us to make us naked; frees us from our husks; grinds us to whiteness; kneads us until we are pliant; assigns us to the sacred fire." It has "no other desire but to fulfill itself." "You cannot direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course."

There were always little (and some not so little) obstacles between us, but for whatever reason, I've kept the candle on for her and somewhere in the back of my senses still remained the idea that maybe, just maybe, all those discussions about being together would happen.

I know I would have made the world our oyster.

I'm being supportive of her, of course. I do that because her happiness is important to me, and because even I can objectively see how some of her new choices has the potential for dear and deep joy for her. But another part of me feels as though I, and everything intimate we shared and built up until this point, has suddenly become irrelevant, and that's quite the sting. Perhaps I should know better, because God knows I've been here before. Perhaps it's my mistake to have held out, to have kept that candle burning.

I do feel a little foolish. But I'm tired of getting crestfallen. Once again, I seem to have invested too much. And, on top of everything else, the timing is awful: I had been looking forward to seeing her soon.

I'll be fine.

Yet, on the plus side, I enjoyed an awesome chat with a mid40s woman of colour last night, an up-and-coming psychologist who, if things happened between us, will likely want to reintroduce me to the wonderful world of monogamy. Interesting contrast, no? And, who knows, maybe that kind of stability would do me some damned good for a change.

But now I'm going to listen to some Missy Higgins and bike alongside the Lake Ontario shoreline. I want some of this great, positive sunshine in my skin.



Good luck, baby. No, really. And I love you. See ya.