Monday, April 16, 2007


I have to stop pestering the Goat-Man [aka the Silver Fox]. I really do. The problem is that he is married to his work, and I seem to be married to my obsession with him. Can these marriages be saved? If there is a way, it's one that I am not sure I can in fact carry off:

I have got to learn to rein myself in, hold myself to a couple of contacts if not one contact a week,in other words, just cool it. If I were smart, I would be playing hard to get. HA! It takes all the effort I can summon not to call him every night just so I can listen to his voice and breathe deeply.

I am so churned up that everything else in my life is dwindling into insignificance next to what is basically a purely physical attraction, which I am wiring to the rest of me: heart, soul, nervous system, digestion, pulse rate, you name it.

And I am the cuckoo in the nest, the "disturbing presence" I swore I would never be: the Other Guy [Other Woman?] who wrecks an existing relationship. I had a blinding revelation this afternoon, while I was glorying in his call the other night: if the Goat-Man is beginning to question his allegiance to his RBF, it is surely because I am doing the dance of the seven veils, throwing off glimpses of my oh-so-fascinating self. And if I am doing the Dance@7V, it can only be to attract his attention, promising God knows what in the interest of getting him to focus on me.

What on earth do I think I'm up to?

For a guy who is used to looking at the world through morally-tinted glasses, this is a difficult, not to say untenable position. The best I can hope for is a stable triad where I have some sort of recognized rights in His Goatness in return for not upsetting the apple cart. There are a number of unappealing alternatives, all of which put me in positions where I cannot really picture living with myself, my oceanic emotions, or my self-respect.

Maybe I'm wrong; maybe I misread his bitching. But if not, things are on a knife-edge, and I put them there. On one level, this situation is doomed, and all the talk about "openness" is crap; as soon as people feel threatened, "openness" is going to give way to something far less even-tempered, not to say nasty...

So I either get less than I can live on, or more than I can cope with.
Well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
I have keep working on actually believing that...

That's my cheerful thought for the day.
Back to the grindstone...

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