Friday, 07.06.2018 - 9:13 pm.
I realized two days ago that I have a serious crush on my Mexican friend, the one from last entry. It's funny that before I arrived to that realization I had fantasies about her that I'm not going to share here. That's the history of my bisexuality, anyway: first comes the tingling, then comes the label.
I was brushing my teeth, thinking of what we'd done in my head the night before and went: "Oh. I do like her that way" (I think I've mentioned her name before, but I can't even do that at the moment).
My bisexuality has been at the forefront of my consciousness this past week because I was taking part in a study about it. I kept a photodiary for two weeks, and this week I had the interview about that. The second to last day of the photodiary, this past Saturday, captured how I dressed for this Mexican friend's birthday party. I got all dolled up for that. She complimented me, but then again, she's very vocal about her appreciation for other women.
It's taken me a lot of time to develop this crush, not that I was seeking to develop it. It's just that I'd ask myself, over and over, if I liked her "that way" and I'd easily respond "nah". Nah, she's my friend. She has the coolest tri-colored hair (Jesus Christ, one time Tilda Swinton was in town and she approached my friend to tell her she loved her hair), and I like how she dresses, and I like her body, but that's about it.
I meant it, I felt for her as a friend. But here and there I'd find myself attracted to her, like a few weeks ago when we met at her flat for an all-girl night of wine tasting, and I felt like putting my arms around her waist. I didn't, obviously. It was a fleeting urge, but a piercingly strong one, too.
Since she's vocal about her liking how other women look, I once asked her if she'd be open to dating one (this was when we were watching Love Island and she seemed to be lusting after the half-naked women more than I did, and I'll get to that). She's been single for a few months now and she's on Tinder, so I asked if she'd consider looking at girls there, too. She said she'd tried once with a girl, but it didn't work out for her. Fair enough. A part of me wasn't convinced, though, maybe because of her hair.
I like her sister, too, you know. They look like identical twins, but my friend is older. They both have bubbly personalities, but I know the sister's personality is more, say, complicated. So I like my friend and I like my friend's sister, but the latter I'm also...jealous of? I don't know, I feel very, very bitter when I see her.
I suppose it's because my friend's sister *is* bisexual. If I dig deep in my bitterness, I think I resent that she's in a relationship with a woman so she definitely passes as not-straight. So when my friend's sister walks into the room (or into the beer garden, like she did at my friend's birthday last weekend), I feel threatened, I feel invisible, I feel I'm failing a test. A test of what exactly, I can't tell. I know performing one's sexual orientation is not a competition, it's just a very visceral reaction of mine.
My friend also threatens me in that sense. I was telling Andrew that she seemed more queer than I am when we were watching Love Island last week, the three of us and my male Colombian crush. And yes, I resented that. Listen, although I appreciate all the half-naked bodies on that God-forsaken reality show (I don't follow most of what they say), I have standards. But then my friend would say something about how beautiful those girls and boys were, and I just wanted to stand on the couch and say "No! I'm the bisexual one here!" At least Andrew knew what to say to soothe my bitterness because he's amazing.
Anyway. The morning I realized I had a crush on my friend, I was at the office and I silently paid attention to her when she came into the office some time later. You know that feeling, the gravitational force changes between you and that person overnight. Today I came to her desk to say hi, and I was talking to her but my brain was picking up on her arm slowly moving to to reach me and touch me, "oh, oh, here it comes", and she did touch my arm and said my skin was very white. To me that felt like flirting, and that's probably going to be the peak of what I'll get from her.
Not that I won't aim for further exchanges, if anything, to bask in the thrill of a pointless, half-assed chase. I still can invite her for coffee or to the movies and pretend in my head that it's a date. We might go see a movie next week, actually, but I had to invite my friend Eric (also her friend) because I'd promised him we'd see that movie together.
I do feel like flirting but I don't want to freak her out, she knows I'm bi. Oh, yeah, and I'm married, so it's best that's straight and pays no attention to me, so I won't have to go through the uncomfortable deed of asking Andrew for permission to explore (no way I'd do such a thing behind his back; and I do say ask for permission because he's my partner; I love him, I respect him, and our marriage is a contract).
Right. Love Island is almost on.
BUT: speaking of bisexuality, I GOT A WRITING GIG! Yes, I was approached! Yes, about bisexuality! It's for a one-time anniversary-issue magazine that will be edited by a major, influential online medium in my country and a cultural institution from another country (which, incidentally, published my second book so many years ago). I have to write a pitch this week.
I'm scared but I'm excited. If the piece gets published, it's likely that my parents and other assorted people will find out I'm bi. Fuck that, I'm in my fucking 30s. I'm a decent daughter who's made gold out of the education they provided, AND I married a different-sex partner. I'm all you could want in a child, and more if you're not conservative.