Saturday, Jul. 11, 2020 - 2:09 pm.
I never envisioned myself in this situation, but this week it was my two-month anniversary with my girlfriend. It's a great relationship, save for the continent between us that makes this whole thing VERY frustrating at times. I almost told her that I love her last night. I have no reservations about the feeling per se, nor about expressing it, I'm just withholding it for fun.
I finally told Andrew about her. Sort of. His question took me by surprise and I gave, as it's my style, a mumbling, half-assed answer. I think he's making up for all our nine years together in which he couldn't do certain stuff to me in bed, so one of these mornings we were having breakfast after going for a round and he asked me: who is it that I'm talking to. A sex therapist, a sex worker? "I mean, whatever you're doing, it's doing wonders".
I told him I talk to a friend. "I care about her, she cares about me. She's like...my girlfriend. Not that I have a life project with her, we just talk". Shit, life project. That's what I said. I was supposed to say she knows I'm happily married, and I have a soft spot for her in my heart and we drive each other wild by sexting, and she gave me that extra push I needed to finally take full control of my body. I did say to Andrew that if I'd had sex with a woman before, I'd have probably enjoyed sex with men more sooner.
I either was too vague, and/or he's very relaxed and secure about our relationship, but he seemed ok with my answer. Then we moved on to finish breakfast and make fun of our cats.
Last night we had the most fun, he and I. We ordered sushi, made screwdrivers and put on the playlist of songs that a famous club in Santiago would play. It's not the music I'd listen to on my own volition, but not liking the playlist was a lot like being in the club, and thus it was the equivalent of partying. We got drunk and laughed a lot. This man is the best.
In other news, it's been raining and been so cold and miserable for about two weeks now. I miss our house in Sheffield which had decent heating. At times our heaters here can't do enough, and the windows and walls are not made of any special material to keep the heat in. But at least we have a nice apartment. I think of all the people in this country living in camps, and all the stray dogs and cats. It's all so cruel and inhuman, to let living being endure hard-biting winters like that.
This upcoming week I have a literary event to attend, online of course. On Wednesday night. I'm not too thrilled, it's that little nasty world of Writers. But also this event makes me think of my book, which I can't talk about much because it will not come out until next year. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I fear the publishing house is a scam. I did my research but they're taking their time with my book, and I still don't trust them completely.
Other than that, I don't think I have a lot to report. I just look at my life right now and feel overwhelmingly fortunate and grateful. The world is falling apart but I'm doing more than ok. I'm done feeling guilty over that, I'm just wondering if there's a higher reason why I'm doing so well. I have a (so far) stable job, I earn enough money, my family and close friends are healthy. More puzzingly, I have not one but two people so hell-bent on giving me orgasms. I don't know what to make of all this wealth, other than enjoying it and wondering how I can pay it forward.