You know, I really wish this hadn’t happened. Savage Kitten and me breaking up, that is. Our friendship is still there, and probably stronger than ever. But she is no longer excited by me romantically. That must have faded quite a while back. So I can understand why she called an end to those aspects of our relationship.
It hurts, but I’m glad we’re still so close.
Evenso. All facets of the relationship were still very much alive in me. That, I think, is why she hesitated so long before finally discussing matters. But she had to - letting things continue as they were would have been dishonest, and made her live a lie. And I could not have forced her to remain my lover.
It would have made us both desperately unhappy, and ruined what is, at heart, a beautiful friendship.
We are companions, and roommates. We are still the best of friends. No one knows me better.
Of course, a major problem is that I still think she’s one hot mama.
Yowza.
Lookin’ fine!
ACTING LIKE A GENTLEMAN – NOT ALLWAYS ACTUALLY BEING ONE, PLEASE UNDERSTAND, JUST DESPERATELY ACTING LIKE ONE.
IT'S THE GALLANT THING TO DO. KEEPING MY BRAIN FLEXIBLE, MY EYES OPEN, AND MY MOUTH SHUT.
I have to subdue certain feelings now. It would not be civilized to veer into what might be considered sexual harassment. And it would betray the complete trust we both have in each other were I to do so. We feel safe and comfortable with each other around, and we wish to keep it that way.
Living together as roommates necessarily means a certain blindness. At times just pretending I didn’t notice a darn thing.
Think of it as my foray into 'method acting'.
Seriously, I like having a roommate who trusts me completely.
Especially as I can often see her going down the hallway to bathe. I did mention that she’s one hot mama, right?
Damn’ good thing that I’m still not fully caffeinated at that time – a slim and shapely young lady in a state of undress is a beautiful thing to see, and a great way to start the day.
I do not flatter myself that I present a sight anything near as charming when I head to the shower.
I drink my morning coffee sitting up on my bed, so the view into the hallway is pretty good. No, I didn’t start doing that since the break-up, I’ve always done it. It’s just, however, that I now realize precisely how advantageous it is to sit there with a steaming cup and sleepy-looking eyes – never mind that they’re half-closed deliberately!
I may look like I’m not paying any attention, my dear, but I underneath these heavy lids I am absolutely pop-eyed.
PRIME VANTAGE POINT
I frequently sit on my bed, even in the early evening. Books are strewn on the side near the window, as well as small quarreling stuffed animals (the 'roomies': a one-legged monkey, two degenerate Teddy bears, a Steiff raccoon, and a small fat fluffy creature of indeterminate species – they have strong personalities and don’t always get along amicably).
It’s the perfect spot to read, or scribble in my notebooks. Or fight with the roomies
The other night she was in her room trying on some new high heels. Her legs, by the way, look fabulous in high-heels.
The only full length mirror is at the far end of the hallway, and the only way you can tell that pumps are just right is by walking in them, and posing with them in front of a full length mirror. See how they look coming and going. Turn just so, to observe how they look from the side, what they do to the lines. How they perk up the rump.
I’ve never tried it myself, but I am experienced in these matters, so I know whereof I speak.
It works even better when you’re wearing nothing but tiny pink panties and a tee-shirt.
That way you can see the entire line of the leg.
I had to go have a couple of stiff ones at the bar that evening. It was a sudden urge to enjoy the company of some other men, and some fine bad singing. Get some fresh air. Distract the mind. Smoke too much and utter startling exclamations. Dang it.
When I got back I spent three hours going through a dictionary of classical Chinese (University of Hawaii Press). Must have read many of the same pages three or four times. Yeah, that fascinating.
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IN TUNE WITH WILD LIFE
That noise outside while I was drifting awake? Turned out to be the streetsweeping vehicle. Not actually an owl. But it had sounded ike an o...
10 comments:
Wow, that's awfully insensitive of her. Look, but don't touch? Sheesh.
Not insensitive. Stark raving oblivious.
Plus she's never felt good about her looks or her body. It's the result of having a Cantonese mom who everyday told her "you're ugly, you're stupid". As well as telling her she was a rotten person, and occasionally suggesting that the world would be a better place if she weren't around. And blaming her for things she had nothing to do with ("your aunt in Canada died because of YOU - because you're ugly and stupid and a horrible daughter").
See, giving birth to a girl is a personal failing - both by the mother, and the resultant daughter.
They had a boy's name picked out when she was born, and were horribly surprised when it turned out to be a girl - grabbed at a straw to find a name for her, which they made sure she knew.
She's always thought I had screws loose whenever I told her she looked beautiful. Never really understood the concept.
Add some serious Asperger to the painful shyness, insecurity, and low self esteem, and we're talking about communication issues and a level of mental insulation that are near-impossible to get through at time.
"Hon, you're absolutely beautiful!" 'Silly Old Toad, you need your eyes checked!'
She honestly can't understand what I find so attractive. And consequently regards me as, on that score, borderline insane.
Plus I have great peripheral vision, like all dirty old men. Another thing which she doesn't grasp.
"and occasionally suggesting that the world would be a better place if she weren't around"
Correction: suggesting it nearly everyday.
Some Chinese mothers are incredibly vicious bitches towards their daughters, their potential rivals, towards their tenants ..... seen it, heard it, been left aghast with my jaw on the ground by it.
Remember, girls are NEVER a source of pride. No one praises a girl's achievement, unless they want to make some other girl feel bad, OR get rid of the bint by marrying her off pdq.
Boys, on the other hand..... treasures! So intelligent! So accomplished!
In some ways, Chinatown is conducive to extreme dysfunctionality. With some very interesting manifestations of mental stress.
Dude,
I know I am just a outsider looking in but this seems like a situation fraught with peril.
You're gonna have a freakout living in that apartment once she starts dating. Trust me, I've been there, done that, got the t-shirt...
Tayere e-kvetcher,
Yeah, the idea of her dating is already freaking me out. But I'm starting to digest the concept.
Three things need to be kept in mind:
1. Her life, her choices. She stuck with me for twenty years, so I believe she has good taste in men. In any case, sound judgement.
2. Counts both ways. Which means that I had best exercise damn' care and caution if and when.
3. I don't want anyone to ever hurt her.
That said, all of this counts as a forward looking statement, in that future events or possibilities are discussed speculatively. Consequently all the usual disclaimers hold. ;-D
This is of little comfort to you, but you are fortunate in that you never asked the state for permission to formalize your relationship with SK. What normally follows when married couples grow apart, and have kids and share possessions, is an ugly and needless battle of wits. You had a relationship that was better in some respects than marriage, so if you're looking for a silver lining...
In any case -- recommend closure on the living arrangements asap.
Yes, agree completely with Ari. The full brunt of the end of the relationship will be felt when one of you decides to live elsewhere. Granted, it will be a new sort of pain, but, sad to say, the healing process demands it. Speaking from experience here.
`night owl incognito`
With all due respect, Ari and 'night owl incognito',
I'm actually starting to enjoy this. Did I ever mention that I'm a pervert?
This morning she discovered that she had not replaced the towels after doing laundry. I already knew that. Handed her one as she opened the bathroom door, diplomatically looking elsewhere. Peripheral vision is a great blessing.
As is her NEVER having realized that while she has blurry vision without her glasses, I am not so afflicted. If it's two feet away or more, it is in sharp focus.
Pardon my while I obsess over that wonderful concept: sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus. Sharp focus.
She's down to one hundred and three pounds now. With excellent definition. Sharp focus.
Yep, at fifty one years of age, I am now officially an old degenerate.
Note: the above was written on October 13th, nearly two weeks after the high heeled shoes incident.
My pervy senses are up significantly.
I'm recovering, I guess.
March 10th., 2015.
She's still a hot mama. Two issues: One, I don't see nearly enough of her anymore, and Two, I'm quite over the past.
She's a nice woman, a great apartment mate. But if I ever lust about someone (instead of aesthetically and intellectually appreciate), it will be someone new.
I still like having hot yowza around. But I need hot yowza I can feel close to.
Just so y'all know.
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