You want me but not me.
Me who’s better looking.
Me who’s more successful.
Rich me. Popular me. Fantasy me.
You want the poet but don’t want the pain. You want the torrent of desire but don’t want the flame.
You’ll warm yourself by my heartfire but won’t open your own.
I’m just a bandaid, a temporary distraction from your life.
And you tell yourself, he’ll be happy for the attention, that it’s all just a game.
But I’m falling in love, because my heart can’t learn this lesson, won’t do it, refuses to see.
Not all words are true, not the way you say them, that these words they speak without connecting to their heart.
And my heart only hears theirs beating and makes a castle of hope.
games
Relationship Games
I suppose it comes down to this. I am willing to play games, to see if a relationship with you will be worth it, but at the end of about a month I’m done and I want to know what we are doing. I’m ok with fun times and casual whatever. But I want to know that is what we are. And I will keep looking if that is all that you want. But the games stop. And if you decide that you just want to be good friends, brace yourself for a bit of culture shock. I don’t treat my friends, even my good friends, the way that I treat lovers and potential lovers. Not that I treat them badly, but they get less of me. Less of my time, less of my attention, just less. I’m perfectly willing to be friends with ex’s but I find that they don’t want that, not really. When they say they want friendship, they mean they want the same level of access as I give lovers, but without actually being with me. I don’t do that. It is unfair to the people who are with me. And before you think I am cheating on anyone, no, I don’t do that. I am not exclusive with anyone, their choice. I prefer inclusive polyamory. But I can do exclusive, just no one ever asks for that with me. Perhaps I should be a bit offended, or not, who can say?
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Space between fingers
power and grace
Complexity
focused on desire
move at my command
expecting mock anger
instead
smile and comply
teasing each other
with what we desire
me to control and her to comply
a hands breadth away
and a lifetime
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Wicked grins and knowing glances
Claimed and laid claim
But all just a game
Built empty this hollow
I can’t myself, follow
Led by desire
For some I don’t tire
Romance not wanted
I tried and I hunted
But deception works deeper
My delusion, my deceiver
Indulging in pleasure
It’s what passes for treasure
From a palate grown mired
In broken desires
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Just a little game
want you by my side
holding hands
sitting in booths
hand under dress
playing
Watching you fighting to not gasp
to not moan
fingers slick
right to the edge
Pull out
I lick my fingers
savoring the taste of you
hand in hand to the bathroom
leaning in
whisper
I need you to cum. Will you cum for me?
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Some cliff notes to my brain
I know what I want, say what I mean and try not to play games. But game playing seems to be expected, and if I like the person enough, I’ll play. For a time. But there comes a point where I am ready to stop playing and that’s the point where many of my relationships end. Either because they only liked the game and not me or they think that me stopping the tilt-o-whirl is another game.
I say that after the fact in some cases because often I’m not playing a game. I’m going after you hard because I’m interested in you. And if you give what you think are signals, well that’s too bad. If you want to be kissed, ask or kiss me. Consent weighs so heavy in my mind that unless you say you want something I’m unlikely to make a move that isn’t slow or cautious.
Past basic flirting, I’m not playing, I’m in earnest. But because consent is so important maybe it comes off as game playing? I am very up front about who I am, what I like, how important consent is. Does my honesty play out as another game?
Last thing, my brain does not operate on the premise that sex is the goal. I’ve…grown jaded with that. Some see getting people to fuck you as power. I prefer the more equitable exchange that BDSM provides. And sex as pleasure just leaves me feeling empty after, not during. But there is so much more after than during.
My brain operates on the premise that real emotional connection is the goal. What I call love. I say “I call” because I have the sneaking suspicion that what I call/think of as love is different than how others view it. For me, it is devotion and loyalty. Affection and lust, for your mind as well as your physicality. Seeing your flaws and loving you despite. Who you are, everything that makes you, you. That’s how I love. And, critically, I don’t demand that we be the totality of each other’s worlds. I think, perhaps, the fierceness with which I love is confused with obsession or controlling. It’s not. I’m passionate, thats true. I want a partnership, that’s also true. In a open or poly relationship I want to be a primary, but that’s the extent of the possessiveness. Maybe that throws people for a loop? I can’t know.
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I want (obverse) explained
I walked into work and saw what looked like a kool-aid packet on my desk. I thought nothing of it and for several hours it just sat there. I took a look and it was fun dip, themed for valentine’s day from her. What does this mean? A conciliatory gesture? Some kind of olive branch. It ached to see even this little gesture from her. But no words, just her name. I hoped she didn’t think “it’s been long enough, try to reconnect?!” she hadn’t, she gave them to everyone and didn’t that hurt worse? That I mean so little, that I’m just like everyone else. I would have preferred nothing to this. And my mind keeps going over it, she gave me cherry and everyone else seemed to get razzle berry, does that mean something? I’m grasping at straws looking for any meaning, any chance. This is what prompted “I want… (obverse)”. I’m not in the same place I was but you blindside me 2 days before Valentines day and I’m going to have a reaction.
Pelgris 