Protected: shall we begin again?

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sb’s spin on the raven

SB sent this to me a couple of years ago. A little spin on a well known poem. Inspired by BOF and certain magpie who tried to come between us.

As I nodded nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping,
as if somebody gently rapping,
rapping at my chamber door.

As I slumbered simply sleeping,
suddenly there came a beeping,
as if someone gently peeping,
peeping through my Yahoo door.

Tis some “macho lesbian pyscho bitch” I thought,
and nothing more.

the lies we tell, the secrets we keep

A friend of mine sent me an IM this week. He wanted to tell me goodbye. He’s someone that I met online. In a bisexual chat room. He and I have chatted for nearly two years. We’ve never met face to face. Unless you count chatting via web cam.

But we enjoyed each other’s company. He’s one of the few I’ve met online that know my real name. We were on each other’s facebook and myspace pages. He knew GF and her husband.

He’s always kept his bisexuality very under wraps. I forget the reason. It’s so common to me that I don’t bat an eyelash at it very often. People make choices. I hope they make choices they can live with. But far be it from me to project my own moral code and philosophy onto someone else.

He met a girl. A girl that he’s become very serious about. For that I could not be happier for him. He’s been able to tell her about all of his exploits. His past. His fantasies. She said she accepted it. But here he was. Deleting everything that had to do with his “secret bisexual life.” Because, as he tells it, even though she’s accepted that bisexuality is a part of him, she remains a little freaked out by it.

It’s just sad to me. I know so many who have to hide away parts of themselves. Even from the people who are supposed to be closest to them. I find it difficult to accept an argument where someone says, “I accept that as part of who you were.” But they can’t accept that as part of who a person IS.

I understand where the fear comes from. I have some of the same fears as a woman who dates bisexual men. Will he leave me for a man someday? Am I enough to satisfy him? My own situation is further complicated by the fact that I’m polyamorous. (But that’s a different story for a different day.)

I told my friend that I understood his decision. (And I do.) And that he would be missed. That I’ve treasured his friendship and that I appreciated the fact that he told me why he was disappearing and didn’t just leave. I told him he knew where to find me if he ever needed or wanted. And that was that.

I hope that he’s happy. That’s all I can hope for. And I’m trying my hardest not to judge. It’s his life. Not mine. But I know what it’s like to live a life that is only one part of who you are. I know how hiding bits of yourself can start to eat away at you.

I couldn’t do it. So I left my situation. BOF is in the same one. He’s married. Two kids. He knew he was bisexual when he got married but didn’t say anything about it. Because he’s the monogamous type. He was happy with his wife. But over time, not being able to share those fantasies got to him. It wasn’t so much that he needed to act on them, he just needed to talk about them.

One day he started to cheat. In a desperate attempt to stave off those cravings. And she found out. About the cheating. About his orientation. And though they’ve gotten past it, she told him point blank that if she’d known when they were 20 that he was bi, she never would have married him.

And now he’s trapped. In a marriage with someone he truly loves, but who can’t, or won’t, accept him for who he is. And that’s how he found me. Because I get it. And lord knows I wasn’t exactly faithful in my marriage so I don’t judge him for his behavior.

My heart breaks for him. I see his struggle first hand. He doesn’t like who he has become, but he sees no other way out. Not now. Not when he loves her. Not when he has children and a mortgage and obligations. If our chats and phone calls and midnight rendezvous are what keep him sane, then I’m happy to do it. Because he certainly gives as much as he takes where I’m concerned.

And the boy (who needs a name in this blog) I’ve been seeing. My little summer fling that got serious. He’s been looking for someone who would accept his sexuality. He told me once he had resigned himself to the fact that he was a freak. That there must be something off about him. But then I came along and shared all the same leanings. Bent in exactly the same way. And he found freedom. For the very first time voicing his true orientation out loud.

So this IM from my friend is nothing I haven’t seen before. It’s a pattern I see all too much. But this week it also serves as a huge reminder of how lucky I am. Lucky that I was able to break free from a life of secrets and lies. Lucky that I’ve managed to surround myself with people who can handle my honesty. Even when it isn’t pretty.

thankful*

There’s an asterisk this year.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for the blessings in my life. I am. I feel incredibly fortunate to have the life that I do.

I have an extraordinary family that I enjoy spending time with. I drove across the country last year with my Dad. Doing silly things like stopping to see the Corn Palace and going to Deadwood and sharing calf fries and beer. My brother has truly become a friend. I’m so proud of who he has become. I have a sister-in-law who is becoming more like a sister and less like an in-law as I get to know her better. I have 2 nieces and 1 nephew that I adore. And I do not generally like children. But those kids are fabulous. My mom and I have finally settled into a position of mutual respect. Our jobs are so similar. My divorce changed our relationship. My determination to stick to my dreams changed it. We’re more complete to each other now.

I have some amazing friends in every corner of the world. There are the friends I talk to daily. Via phone or email or text or face to face. There are friends that I may only speak to every few weeks. But on those weeks we can pick up as though we just saw each other. There are people that I know I can count on in times of need. Whether what I need is a deep conversation or to go to a club and have a drink or to sit quietly in the green room at work and have lunch together without saying a word. I am loved.

I have an online community that provides not only conversation and emotional support, but when SB had surgery and I was desperately trying to figure out how I was gonna afford a plane ticket to TX, it was the online folks that insisted on wiring me money. Without my asking and despite my insistence that I would not be able to pay back the loans.

I’ve seen more and done more than most people ever will in their entire lifetimes, not to mention other folks my age. I’ve traveled to 15 countries. I’ve lived in 5 states. I’ve been all across the US. By plane and by car. I’m not afraid to go someplace new and explore. I’ve taken advantage of all the opportunities I’ve had to do just that.

I get up every day and go to work in an industry I love. My life requires creative budgeting at times, I do work for a non-profit, but I’m financially independent. With health insurance and 403b even. Doing work that is meaningful and fulfilling to me. I am secure in my place at work. I know I am valued. I know that I bring as much to the table as I am taking away from it. I started in this business when I was 14. 16 years later and I’m still working in it and I’m still performing. I am living my dream.

I am stronger than I ever thought possible. My priorities are firmly in place. My faith grounds me. I am secure in who I am. I love the person I have become. I have so many things to be thankful for. Sometimes I have to shake my head because I can’t believe this is really my life.

It’s not that I’m not grateful. It’s just that there is a cloud that has drifted in and settled itself in front of the sun. Because SB is dying. The single most important person in my life. And I may have said my goodbye to him so that we can move past that and just enjoy.  I may have gotten to a place where his sickness is not the foremost thing on my mind at every second. I may be living a full and vibrant life. But the fact that he is slowly slipping away, a little more each day, never really escapes me.

motivational blogging

As bloggers it seems that eventually we all face the question, why am I doing this? What drives this blog? Is it merely an exercise in self expression? An outlet to vent? Do we do it do gain readers? Is it enough to have readers or must they comment as well? These questions all apply to the vanity and hobby bloggers. Let’s leave the folks that get paid for this mess out of it for the moment.

I started this blog out of a need to process the world and out of a sense of curiosity. If I wrote it, would they read? In the beginning I wrote about everything here. Completely unfiltered, except for the code names. I watched my little charts and graphs tracking readers changed each day. I installed other stat trackers so that I could not only see how many hits I was getting, but where those hits were originating. I began to notice what tags caused my hits to spike.

That’s the siren song. A day when your hits take a big jump. I found myself altering my writing. Subtly, but in an attempt to gain more readers. But it felt sort of empty. I started to feel like the writing wasn’t as honest anymore. That, coupled with a very strong reaction to a post by a then-lover, prompted me to start a second blog. After all, having people read your stuff is fun. Purely narcissistic motivation.

The second blog is decidedly more X rated than this one. BOF, Hollywood, GF, and other encounters get all of their press on the other site. In fact, I’ve gone back and password protected many of those posts on this site. That gave me two platforms. One to write about sex and to play to my audience and to have fun. One to write about a wider array of subjects that were more meaningful to me. This blog also gives me a place to not have be a sex kitten all the time.

The second blog spawned an offer to co-write for a third. Also of the X rated variety. I took it on both out of a sense of adventure and as a place to strengthen my writing skills. I’m good with images, abstract thoughts, and editorial pieces. This site would require more actual story telling. With definite beginnings, middles, and ends.

I’m happy with the first two blogs. My readership here has settled into a core group of about 30. Certainly nothing that is setting the blogosphere on fire, but enough to make a co-worker jealous. He writes a blog and only his family reads it. I’d be lying if I said I never thought about my readers when I write here, but 90% of the time I write as though I’m the only one that will be reading. My style is the same as you would find in my pen and paper diaries kept for years prior to blogging.

My second blog continues to be satisfying. It had reached a healthy readership of 200-300 regulars. Then I got a choice listing in a directory and my hits have exploded. The marketing side of me is enjoying playing with it. On days when I post and the title is descriptive I’ll get 3000 hits. Days in between posts or where I’m writing about some fetish that does not have as wide of an appeal the hits only number in the 400 range. I’m playing with it a little, but I’m still keeping it true to who I am. That’s the only way my writing stays true. I can’t sell out and make it convincing.

The third blog seems to be dying. The Blogger and I get around 8000 hits per month. In that month we’ll have maybe 20 comments. This has gotten under his skin and he’s discouraged. So much so that he wants to end the blog. There are so many things you can do to gain readers. Making comments on other blogs, posting often, tagging well, handing out your url everywhere. It’s just a matter of how much effort you want to put into your blog and a matter of patience. But in the end, you can lead the horses to water but you can’t make them drink.

I don’t get a lot of comments on the two blogs I author alone. But I’m happy to have readers that keep coming back, day after day. I tend to lurk on the Internet anyway. I currently subscribe to 85 blogs. Some related to work, some much like this one, some of the NSFW variety. But I rarely comment on any of them. I’m lazy I guess. Also, I read them through a feed reader and it requires extra clicking to comment and you have to really really move me to get me to do extra clicking.

So to answer my opening question, what drives my blogs is a need to write. A need to chronicle my life and the things that I go through. Regardless of whether folks are out there reading and commenting on it. It is enormously fulfilling to me and it’s a little fun as well. Will I blog forever? Who knows. Probably not. This is just the current manifestation of my life long habit of keeping a diary. It will change form, but my need to write will always be there.