je t’aime, moi non plus
I don’t love you
I’ve not been true
I haven’t left you
but I don’t want you.
What do I do
when the one who
I adore is just after a screw
I’m a silly moo
Is that all you can do
tell me that we’re through?
you put me in such a stew
knock my heart askew
But now at last I too
have had enough: I’m through.
Inspired by the Poetry Review
I never heed any of that nonsense about not giving the goods away too soon and so after the dinner date on Monday evening with new man we came back to my place and had a lot of romp until about midnight. This is another assignation I’ll keep close to my chest for now.
He sent me a few messages in the morning to try and make another date for us to meet up again before my travels but alas I had made other arrangements to see Jan in preparation. Talking some more to my therapist friend Sebastien as to why I sleep with these different men gave me even further insight into Goran’s possible motivation for attempting not to have sex with me on Sunday. It could be because he was hoping to end our relationship or take it to a platonic level. I think this seems to be his comfort zone – it’s what happened to his relationship with his ex girlfriend after all. And in a bid for self-protection I have lined up further potential partners in the event that this was his intention.
Why second-guess? My own insecurities are writ large over all this conjecturing and sifting over with S.
I went over to Goran’s late on Sunday evening and we sat around a fire he’d built in his garden. It was really late but he needed some distraction from his anxiety over returning to work the next day. So we talked about our day, in his case all the baklava baking tutorials there were online (!) and in my case beekeeping stuff. We finished the rest of the ice cream with the baklava and it seemed as though we weren’t going to get naked. He’d said he didn’t want to have sex even though he’d invited me round.
I didn’t take him seriously and when we went inside I suggested sitting on the more comfortable sofa. So of course we kissed and more and later he said he really had wanted to see if we could’ve just spent an evening together without having sex – looked like we weren’t capable of that! I was unable to understand why he would put us through that when the sex is always pretty amazing. What was he trying to prove? and Why?
He didn’t really give me a satisfactory answer. Or perhaps I just couldn’t hear it.
Last night I had a secret assignation at a little past 11pm for a purely sexual encounter. He was already waiting for me outside the tube station and for Dutch courage I suggested we had a drink first. So we went into the Dignity – a local pub. We chatted and bantered over silly things and as we were walking back he kissed me and made it clear he desired my body. To my shame I couldn’t remember his name and it wasn’t until this morning, well after he’d left that I checked our text messages and found out what he was called. We had been exchanging messages on the online dating website over the last couple of weeks and yesterday morning it had culminated with an invitation from him to meet up. I’d had a prior dinner engagement and he had suggested meeting me after that ended.
He was 42 and incredibly fit for someone his age. I was never more conscious of the contrast we made, I with my soft feminine roundness and he of a taut and firm body. I doubt there was an ounce of fat on him – at one stage I could admire the narrowness of his hips, lying beneath him as he pleasured me with rhythmical vigour. Certainly, apart from his very short head of hair, he was fairly smooth-bodied as he’d shaved nearly all the hair off the rest of his body. He said a few times that he enjoyed the taste of me and we certainly did a lot of kissing and tasting of each other. Neither of us had much sleep all night and after the final romp he looked at his phone, claimed to have had to go in to work, and left me at about six in the morning.
The sex had been physically satisfying but I was conscious of the fact that it lacked a certain something – perhaps intimacy, the kind which grows from forming a bond with someone, like it had over the last few months with Goran. Am I cheating on him? I don’t intend to tell him that I’d had sex with Wonderboy. As far as he knows about last night, I had a dinner date with my therapist friend (which I did – Sebastien took me to Fishworks on Swallow Street earlier in the evening) and that was it. There’s no need to complicate things with Goran or Jan for that matter. I doubt very much in any case that Wonderboy will get in touch with me again – the swiftness of his departure in the morning had made that clear. We made no promises to repeat last night’s adventure and he let himself out of the house.
Although Goran had said he never got jealous, he had been hinting that he was jealous of some aspects of my life, e.g. the close bond I have with my children, the fun we have at family get-togethers and even of my upcoming holiday with Jan. I feel that it would only be kinder not to tell him about last night’s encounter. Our relationship began with the simple premise that he was in an open marriage and I was polyamorous, even though lately the number of partners I have has dwindled. Moreover, talking about him with Sebastien has clarified our relationship somewhat – S had made observations about Goran which confirms to me his need to remain married to his wife who allows him to exhibit aspects of human behaviour he had grown up to be unfamiliar with – violent emotions of jealousy, anger and general non-conformity. And so I am merely someone who assuages his need for attention while his wife is distracted by her lover/boyfriend.
He is interested in me – there’s no doubt about this – but it is a limited interest as he would be prepared to part with me if he had to move abroad. So I don’t feel as though I’m cheating on him by my actions. All the same I harbour a slight perturbation as to how this relationship will play out.
A few days have passed to mull over these relationships. Jan invited me to a meal at his local last weekend – of course he didn’t mention that some of his friends would be there – people I’d met at his birthday bash about a month ago. We were merry after the outing, walked back to his and watched a bit of TV together and then he kissed me and one thing led to another and for the first time in a long while we did more than just fall asleep in the same bed. He made me coffee the next morning and I came home after that. Will we be able to survive a holiday spent in each other’s company for eight days and nights?
And then there was the date with Goran when he’d come back from his family weekend break slightly in the wars having needed 10 stitches in his shin after it clashed with a piece of metal on his garden shed. He was rather the worse for wear and we stayed in and watched some John Oliver. I was going to make us dinner and when he said surprise me I’d rather taken him up on it and surprised the both of us by putting together a rather decent Vietnamese salad based solely on my dining experiences. I think he was fairly impressed by my culinary intuitiveness. Earlier in the week there had been a possibility that he might have postponed the date but when he was alerted to the fact that I might be making arrangements to meet someone else instead he had rather quickly confirmed our date.
Goran and I have been messaging each other over whatsapp almost daily. It’s occasionally salacious but more often than not mere genial exchanges. I puzzle over what we are to each other. Why won’t he sleep with anyone else? He says he’s still very much physically attracted to an ex-girlfriend who he still sees but who has foresworn intimate relations in the hope that the love of her life (another married man) makes an honest woman of her. I look back at our exchanges which go as far back as mid March this year. He is going away for a fortnight on a family holiday but tells me that he would continue to stay in touch. I am not used to the attention and am a little flattered.
Last night I met Ramon and we had another of our movie and dinner dates, this time in the West End. While waiting for the film to start he’d shown me a picture of his arm tattoo in the process of having the one symbolic of an old girlfriend – the one who had got away – covered. What am I to make of that – is it significant that he is in the process of getting over her? At the end of the date he kissed me on the lips which was rather lovely but with all that has passed between us I wonder again what the point of this was.