annie

WOMEN 78
Strap yourselves in for a tale of two people trying (and in many ways succeeding) to love each other, in a society not really designed for such.
I met Annie in a most bizarre way. I had long been a participant in the craigslist online personals world. I frequented the W4M romance section, and would sometimes browse the casual encounters section if i was feeling the need to tap into rawness, or the ridiculousness of this vale of tears. "Casual encounters" is a strange world. A small percentage of the ads are actually genuine, which is fascinating. Once in a while i would send off a silly response, never for a moment expecting to meet anyone.
But that's where we met.
She'd probably hate that i'm mentioning that right up front...but hopefully, she'd expect no less of me.
Her ad said she'd never had anal sex. Wheee! I answered, saying i was similarly inexperienced. After a few days of letters, i began to suspect that she was real. After a few weeks, we met, and began a long romance (though humorously, anal play hardly played a part...i kissed her hiney hole once, and she said it felt more funny than sexy). At first, i was a tiny bit disappointed she wasn't more exotic. She was of indian descent, and i had long been curious about cross-cultural intimacy. She was, however, a born and bred Brooklyn chick (complete with fun accent). It was months before i came around to mentioning that initial disappointment. I don't know whether it hurt her a bit, or she shrugged it off as another example of my idiocy.
It wasn't a huge crush, but i was attracted. She was fun, intelligent, a bit jaded, and very giving. After a rough romance that year, i told her i needed something very simple and true, or i'd probably run. It did end up being complicated, but anything else is almost always a fool's dream.
She smoked, which tasted yucky, and was a bit out of shape. But we had delightful points of compatibility. She seemed to really understand and envy my free spirit. She worked for a law firm, and though she didn't hate her job, she secretly longed to be among those laid off, so she could take her severance and wander the country. We loved much of the same music and shows, especially Sting and STAR TREK. A lover who loves TREK?? Sigh. Many's the episode we shared together. I miss that part of us so much.
Perhaps our greatest compatibility was our semi-hermit inclinations. In general, i preferred writing to social interactions which possess any hint of shallowness or wasted time. I met some of her family, with whom she was close. She had friends, but after years on the social scene (drinking), she was pretty well done with it. We fell into a routine where we got together each weekend, for a day or more. I would have preferred one more intimate time per week, but her work hours were long. We holed up, usually at my place, listening to music and making love and eating and watching shows and sleeping and making love...
She occasionally had trouble with my online openness about us, but mostly our easygoing ways meshed. I was comfortable offering her monogamy. I knew from the start that i was attracted to other women, whereas she eventually wanted no one but me. That imbalance was central in our eventual breakup. We only had direct trouble once, when i spent a weekend with a friend for whom i had been an enormous part of her emotional growth - i was the first man she was able to talk with about her childhood sexual abuse, and express feelings of attraction for. That weekend, it felt like it was a part of her healing to finally express physical love with me. For Annie's sake, i stopped short of intercourse, but unhappiness resulted nonetheless. Annie and i had said we'd tell each other if we wanted to be with someone else, so it was the first time in my life i've been "unfaithful". I was proud of who i'd been, though. We seldom get a chance to heal or help another human deeply. I even hoped that Annie might be proud (yay sisterhood?), and understand there was no threat to her. We talked about the cinderella complex, which she did reject in many ways, but i couldn't help thinking that there were parts of it still holding her back. I understood her pain, though...i knew from personal experience that it wasn't easy rising above jealousy and possessiveness. At times monogamy feels perfectly natural, but most times it feels like the most destructive, unnatural thing ever invented.
Our sexuality was wonderful and troublesome, mostly wonderful. We'd both lived low-risk sex lives, so we didn't use protection. Neglecting birth control was perhaps reckless, but i knew that as a taoist i wasn't going to ejaculate. We created some of the most beautiful sexual memories of my life. We had long penetrations, sometimes over an hour. Once, we had the most intoxicating, extended, sweaty sex you could imagine, our bodies just awash, slipping and moving together almost in slow motion. It lasted perhaps three hours. We also did doggie style for the first time in my life. Another time, while she was having her period, she came simply from kisses and embraces, fully clothed. That had never happened to her before.
She was devoted orally. I didn't reciprocate much. She'd said that it usually didn't do much for her, and early on, i got a little mouth yeast infection, which i knocked out with antibiotic ointment. After that, she seemed content without direct oral. I may never know whether our communication was lacking there, or whether our non-verbal communication was working fine. Physically, we didn't "fit" as perfectly as i'd like. Her vagina seemed lower than others. One of my favorite sexual motions is gliding my penis up and down between the lips without penetration, but i never got that going with her. At one point, she hinted that i was the best lover of her life. I was touched, but a part of me disowned it, on two levels. Emotionally, though i loved her, my wounded headspace kept me from ever being 100% in the moment. And sexually, i felt i hadn't been my best. I found it unusually hard to not ejaculate, so i was always slowing down our penetrative movements, even when she was on top. And more perplexing, my erections were unreliable - there were times when my stiffy simply wasn't there. This became even more troubling during my "unfaithful" weekend, when my erections were vibrant and unfailing. As devoted as i am to honesty, i never told Annie that detail...it just felt like it could create any number of negative energies and walls, with no resolve.
Or maybe that was just one level of hurtful truth beyond what even i was capable of.
She was always adamant that once she and a man break up, there's no going back. That made me sad, as i knew she and i probably wouldn't last if she fell in love. We talked about it, and i always wished she'd been open to re-exploring with me down the road, when i was in a better place of balance.
She knew she never wanted children. In one of my possible paths, this made her and i alike. But she was also realizing that she very much wanted a life partner. This was one of the spikes that eventually divided us...and if you ask me why, i might discredit the very premise your question is based upon. In any event, my headspace was so wounded that living in the moment was even more imperative than usual.
Another spike between us was her hair. When she dyed her grey temple patches a few months after we met, i wanted to curl up and die. I'd thought they were charming, and even made a few good-natured jokes about them. It fills me with mortification to think that my jokes affected her the wrong way. She said that my ribbing was one of several pressures which had compelled her decision. Understand, there are few issues that resonate in me greater than our society's horrific, self-loathing attitude on aging. She didn't understand how the button she pressed in my spirit was almost beyond measure. I mean, it wasn't so bad that it was all i could think about...but the wound ran deep.
Toward the end of our time, there was also a herpes episode that muddied the reasons we were breaking up. The confusion arose because of my ignorance. Early on, she had mentioned that she got cold sores. I simply hadn't known that all cold sores were herpes. Months later, she threw out the word herpes, and my brain did a double take. I spent the next week educating myself about viral streaming and such. She hadn't had an outbreak in years, so the chances she passed it on to me are almost nil. Still, the timing couldn't have been worse, coming in the midst of a gradual breakup. It did make it a tiny bit easier for me to say, "Let's not torture ourselves any more", but i had trouble getting the message through that herpes wasn't part of the reason we were breaking up.
One of our most beautiful moments came on our last night. We had agreed that our romance was over. It was late, so she stayed. She told me that one of the things she had always wanted to do was hold me while i masturbated. She asked whether we could do that. I was happy to oblige. After some minutes, she suddenly moved from my side, mumbling "I want to sit on you". She did so, quickly took me into her, and we made love. Her behavior was inconsiderate...but for some hazy, primal reason, i loved her for it. I also was happy to rib her the next day, over her semi-articulate choice of words.
After the breakup, i was torn between giving her space and missing her. I would call or write, usually unanswered. Once i showed up at her door unannounced, to hug her and tell her i love her. Another time, she basically urged me to ignore her "go-away" sentiments.
In trying to be with other women since, i'm reminded of how nice we had it. I told her once that if she showed up at my door, i might quickly give in to carnal healing. For a year after we broke up, i didn't browse a single romance ad. She was my best friend for over half a year, and now she's gone, like she was never there...because our society has no clue how to deal with sexuality and intimacy.
Like she was never there.
I miss her.