Previously, Saying "No" Had Always Meant Suffering
A trip from Silverstag Eco Hamlet to Snowland with Paladin and talking about Metheus. A raw potluck reuniting me with old friends which included a powerful experience with Gavreel. Then a night beside Eagle, a lover of mine from 2014 who I had not seen in over a year.
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Saturday, October 1st 2016
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Paladin loaded my small suitcase into Hibiscus's car as well as a bag of clothes for himself. I carried out two insulated freezer bags containing our food. The car rumbled along the gravel road as we left Silverstag Eco Hamlet. We headed to the farmer's market first, arriving there at nine-forty-five in the morning. The sky was gray, and the air was crisp. There weren't as many people as usual.
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We went directly to the stand of the farmer who we had our CSA (community supported agriculture) share with. He gave us apples, tomatoes, grapes and ground cherries. I was particularly pleased about the ground cherries.
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"We can bring the tomatoes and grapes to the potluck," I said to Paladin.
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"I'd like some too," he said.
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"We can reserve some for you for lunch tomorrow," I said.
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"Okay," he said.
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We returned to the car and began the four-hour drive to Snowland. My heart and words were full of Metheus as I took off my shoes and curled my sock-clad feet beneath me. I was wearing jeans, which were not my preference for long car-rides, but they were my preference for facing the terrors of my parents' house.
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"I looked at my phone records this morning and did the math between the multiple calls - we talked for nearly seven hours last night," I told Paladin. I was referring to talking with Metheus.
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"Wow, you were up late," Paladin said.
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"Yes. Long after you went to sleep. My exhaustion was loosening me up, making it easier to talk longer," I said.
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"Might I suggest something?"
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"Of course," I said.
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"It might trigger you," he warned.
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"Okay," I said, shifting my feet beneath me.
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"You're using exhaustion as an emotional intimacy crutch," he said.
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"That seems true," I agreed, observing the greenery out my window. A few trees here and there had begun to turn yellow, brown or red. "But I don't see what I can do about that, do you?"
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He switched lanes to get around a car going less than the speed-limit. "No, not really," he admitted. "Just observing."
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I nodded.
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A little later I said, "He's so cocky. It is rather remarkable. He isn't intimidated by my already having two men. He feels confident that he has more to offer me that I don't already have." And I like that, I added to myself. "He said to me last night - this will probably sound egotistical or some such, but I know you love me - and then he went on from there."
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"Wow, he is a cocky son-of-a . . . I'm envious," Paladin said, laughing.
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I smiled and chuckled my agreement. "I didn't tell him that I loved him. A few times I feel like he was waiting for me to say it. I felt the resonance of truth when he made his observation, but saying it actually changes something for me."
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"How so?" Paladin asked.
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"It is similar to what happened with Hibiscus and I. I told him that I loved him for at least a week, if not two, before he told me he loved me. And I even asserted that it didn't bother me that he didn't say it because I felt his love when he bought me things, when he rubbed my back, when he had sex with me, when he noticed my feelings, when he listened to me deeply. I didn't need him to say it because I already felt it from him."
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"So you think Metheus feels it from you?"
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"Yes, undoubtedly," I said. "Hibiscus's reason for waiting to tell me was because he felt that you shouldn't say it unless you were certain it wasn't going to change. He got that from an ex of his, the girl he dated for a year-and-a-half who he had a deep connection with." (It was her leaving him that bothered him so much, and her that he would talk to me so much about in the beginning. Not his more recent ex of seven years. Bodicia leaving him was more like relief than anything.)
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"So you do hold the same requirement as Hibiscus?"
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"No," I said, "But it is similar. I tell someone I love them usually when I am looking for commitment, and I'm looking for commitment because my love carries so much attachment within it. I am enjoying my relationship with Metheus, but I can't yet say where it is going, and how far it will carry. I guess when I tell someone I love them . . . I'm hoping for or expecting a daily connection."
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I thought there were probably exceptions to what I was saying - that I had occasionally told someone I loved them when my feelings didn't run so deeply toward attachment, but I didn't explore that tangent at the time. A few days later I reflected that my reluctance also had to do with the ritual of saying "I love you." The ritual involved waiting for the perfect timing - where both its reception and its presentation could carry its fullness of meaning.
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A while later, I said, "I could feel his energy last night. I don't know that I've ever felt someone's energy who I've never met in person, much less across such distance."
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We pulled into a gas station. Paladin filled the gas tank. I tucked the receipt into Hibiscus's gasoline-mileage-logging thing.
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"Did you remember the corn-free gas?" I asked.
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"Yes. It costs more," Paladin said. "But it makes sense not to support GMOs. Then again, I'd rather be using GMO corn for fuel than for food."
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I nodded. Later, I said, "He is much more like you. Like if Hibiscus was pulling me one way, and you another, then Metheus is between you and I," I said.
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"It scares me," Paladin said. "It feels like he could replace me."
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I nodded. "That makes sense. After all, you and Hibiscus have little overlap. There is little that you do for me that Hibiscus could do. I mean, sure, he could do my laundry, but anyone could do that."
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Paladin nodded. "Exactly."
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"But I think it will actually make our relationship easier," I reflected. "It will mean I am closer to you when I am with Metheus. Too often, Hibiscus has pulled me so far away that it feels hard to connect with you."
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"I know," Paladin said.
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. . .
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In Snowland we observed some positive changes to the neighborhood - a raw snacks and juice bar had opened up. This thrilled me immensely, so I spent eight dollars on a fresh, organic juice of cucumber, ginger, apple, and spinach. I felt it was important to patronize such a lovely place opening up just a block from my parents' house - the house I'd lived in the majority of my life.
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The juice was delicious. I shared some with Paladin.
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My parents' house was a disaster, as usual. My apartment was being slowly taken over by boxes of mom's books, and Mermaid's food and furniture.
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"More motivation for us to get our stuff out of here," Paladin remarked. We worked together to extract a rolling metal cart with a wooden top that was in the kitchen. We brought down a shelving unit from the attic to fill the empty space and then piled the shelves with the Mermaid's squashes, garlic heads, pasta and other foods.
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"I must be feeling more optimistic about living with Hibiscus," Paladin said.
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"Why do you say that?" I asked.
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"Because I feel like I really want to bring my stuff there," he said. He placed a few utensils into a plastic bin and added, "Or maybe I just feel more pessimistic about leaving my stuff here."
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I nodded, thinking that both were true. He felt safer at Hibiscus's place now than he had six months ago. But now, with the house devouring our possessions into the endless clutter and dust, he definitely felt more pessimistic about his stuff being left in my parents' house.
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I'd never had any illusions about it. My energy was what protected my stuff. If my energy wasn't in the house, then my stuff wasn't safe.
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I spent a great deal of time straightening up, preparing for the inevitable turnover of my old apartment. In truth, I had no attachment to being there anymore. I was so negatively impacted by the air-quality of the house that I had made made arrangements to stay with Thistledown that night. When those arrangements fell through, I contacted Eagle and made arrangements to stay at his place.
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In the attic I pulled out Paladin's bed to access the wooden drawers behind. In one drawer were dozens of manila envelopes I had compiled back in 2011 or 2012. They were labelled things like, "My first novel written when I was twelve," and "A silly comic I made in high-school," and "Prom photos." My eyes widened in surprise. "So that's where this stuff went," I murmured. There were at least two dozen envelopes in the drawer.
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"Can you believe I still have this stuff?" I said to Paladin. "This here is the first draft of my first novel. This is the original notebook."
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"Wow," Paladin said.
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I carefully packed them into a bin. Ten or twenty minutes later I discovered an entire binder full of original artworks of mine. These weren't my best artworks - those I had retrieved eight or so months ago. Still, they were my original drawings and they mattered to me. How had I overlooked them before? It must be because I'm sorting and hiding things away more, I thought. Cleaning up makes the remainder to be dealt with much more obvious.
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After several hours of sorting possessions, I cleared space in the room that had been called The Game Room for many years, although in 2015 I had called it my bedroom, and prior to 2009 it had been the living room of my Aunt Snowshoe Hare who had lived with us for several years. Before the attic fire in 2005 it had been my dad's office.
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We set up a card-table and my mom, Mermaid and Mermaid's boyfriend joined me for a game of Splendor. I focused more on playing quickly and making sure that Mermaid and her boyfriend enjoyed the game than on winning, so I wasn't surprised with my mother won.
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. . .
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That evening we went to a raw vegan potluck I had coordinated with a friend to host while I was in town. Thistledown and Ficus were unable to attend due to a death in Ficus's family, but many other familiar faces were there. My parents came, and Mermaid her boyfriend. Including myself, seventeen people attended.
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A woman, Gavreel, who had been at my very first raw food potluck in 2009 was there. An hour after arriving I was seated at the table and Gavreel was sitting to my left. Rapid-fire small talk was taking place all around - at the table, in the kitchen, in the living room.
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"I eat an intuitive diet," Gavreel told me, beaming radiance. "Sometimes my intuition tells me to eat all raw for a time, and sometimes it tells me something else." I smiled, quite familiar with the concept and admiring her. I noticed that she was eating slowly where I gobbled my salad and tamarind-turmeric-oat cookies I had brought. (I also brought cacao-oat cookies, plums, tomatoes, and concord grapes.)
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"Sometimes I can hear my intuition clearly," I said. "But other times it feels distorted by cravings, childhood associations and emotional coping mechanisms."
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Gavreel nodded sympathetically and went on to tell me how kim chi and sauerkraut had healed her gut. She warned me against kombucha, since it lived on sugar, meaning that it would cause more sugar cravings. I took her advice with a crystal of sea salt. After all, for Neem, it had been kombucha she credited with the healing of her gut.
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Dinner was being cleared away and a raw vegan apple-cheesecake was being served when Gavreel said to me, "We're all on a journey from our heads to our hearts - some of us are just doing it more consciously."
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I agreed, taking a small bite of cheesecake off my plate. I felt self-conscious that I was still eating and she wasn't. So I stopped eating and focused on our conversation.
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"I'm really attached to my sadness," I told her. "I've learned to associate tears with healing and relief. I feel distrustful of happiness. I have this sense that it might be fake."
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She nodded knowingly. "I've been there," she said. "But you don't have to stay there anymore. You can step into the light. You're a being of light."
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"I don't feel like it," I said. "I feel more like an angel of darkness."
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"Close your eyes," she said.
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"Okay," I said, closing my eyes.
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She took my hands in hers. "Now bring your attention to your heart-center."
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I brought my attention down, and felt my heart. It was glowing! I am a being of light! My jaw loosened up a little and I inhaled a deep breath into my heart. I felt overcome with awe.
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"You're right," I said, wonder in my voice. "I am a being of light. I need to spend more time with my eyes closed. It is more obvious when I'm within myself." My eyes flickered open and met hers.
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"Okay, let's keep our eyes closed then," Gavreel said, closing her eyes again.
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I smiled, closing my eyes. I felt giddy. I wanted to wrap the good feelings tightly around me, harness their energy and ride away with them.
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. . .
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After the potluck Paladin brought me to Eagle's house. His room-mate was supposed to let me in if Eagle wasn't back yet from his Dance Troupe Reunion Performance, but she was so soundly asleep that she didn't hear my knocking, or the doorbell, or my text messages. It was eleven-thirty and Paladin and I were both exhausted.
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I sat on the little porch love-seat. Paladin sat beside me and I curled myself around him.
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"There is something about Macaw and Knotweed having been here in this morning, but just missing them . . . How I managed to miss Knotweed's Thanksgiving potluck last year, even though it had been me who asked her to host it . . . The way the clutter of my parents' house has invaded our apartment . . . Aloe Spine and Pea Sprout are gone . . . Starfish too, and Dolphin doesn't come to potlucks anymore . . . Even Thistledown and Ficus couldn't make it . . . And now, being on this porch with nobody here . . . It is like we're clearly being shown that this chapter in our life is closed," I said.
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"Yes," Paladin said. "I was just thinking about that too. Those must be Macaw's things on the curb there. I felt uncomfortable about the prospect of seeing him knowing that I never did that project for him. Now I may never have the chance to see him again."
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"Yeah," I said. "But at least the air quality is better here on this porch than it would be if I were in the house right now."
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"That's true," Paladin agreed.
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Eagle didn't get back until twelve-thirty in the morning. I slept away most of the intervening time on the porch. I was thankful for the little outdoor love-seat with its synthetic padding. It would have been a much less pleasant wait otherwise. Paladin wished me well and got into Hibiscus's car to drive back to my parents' house.
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Tired, I made my way into Eagle's home. I unloaded my cooler bag into his fridge and stowed my suitcase at the foot of his bed.
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Curled up beside Eagle in his bed, enfolded by darkness, I found myself reflective and awake.
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I told Eagle about my experience with Gavreel at the potluck. I told him about Metheus, and how my dad had felt that I would be finding a third partner about now, since he had found someone to be his second partner.
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Eagle's painted walls looked almost eerie in the dim illumination from the pink-salt-crystal lamp.
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"I've thought of you often," I said.
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"Really?" he asked. He seemed genuinely surprised.
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"Yes," I said, "I've often wanted to contact you and tell you some of my reflections, but text messages just didn't seem like the right medium."
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He looked at me, his eyes contemplative but his expression mild and unreadable. Had he thought of me? How did he feel about me in my underwear beside him in his? Did he expect me to have sex with him? I didn't know.
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"You're very beautiful," I said, touching his face. "And very afraid of being seen deeply."
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Eagle started to squirm and turned his chest toward the bed. I smiled. "And I've made you uncomfortable, so you turn your heart toward the bed to feel protected. I do that too when I feel uncomfortably vulnerable."
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"Or maybe my shoulder just needed shifting," he said. Then after a few moments of silence, he added, "Or maybe that was just part of my discomfort."
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I grinned. After a while, he turned back to me as we talked. His hands roamed my body as we spoke, and it felt good. Sometimes I quieted and just enjoyed his touch. I felt particularly good when he touched my face, or touched the insides of my thighs. He came close to the edge of my panties, seductive. I felt desired, but also self-conscious.
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"I must be flabby to you. To imagine you with all the beautiful dancer-chicks makes me think I must seem rather fat in comparison," I said.
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Eagle chuckled. "You'd think that. But actually, I like women who are deep and complex."
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"I'm sure you could find a dancer-chick who is complicated," I said.
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"Complicated, yes. But I also like them to be smart. So that tends to lead me to geeky girls."
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"Really?" I was surprised, but then, should I be surprised? Here I was with him, wasn't I? I had assumed I was in a very different category that his usual fare. Perhaps I had been wrong.
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"I like geeky girls who are deep, complex, and also hot. They're rare," he said.
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"But they exist," I said, thinking that my own existence proved my point.
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We talked of many things in our lives, and I told him many of the thoughts I had mulled over since our time together in 2014. "I remember how you complimented my smooth skin again and again, but then in the shower when I told you how I made my skin so smooth with my scrub brush, you didn't want to use it."
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He chuckled. He didn't remark on my memory, despite its remarkability. Of course, the secret to my remarkable memory was in conveying that which I did remember. Of course, there was much I had forgotten. But I forged ahead and replayed for him all the snippets of memory I had of him, and how they had touched me.
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"I remember how you said you felt like they never utilized you fully. They always put that other guy in the spotlight, because he was a black guy with a mohawk and had more novelty value," I said.
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Eagle chuckled. "I totally believe I said that. It sounds like something I would say."
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Sometime shortly after that, I was trying to convey to Eagle how I saw him; "You're a skilled painter, and you're well-spoken. You're the sort of person who will pick up a drum and improvise along with everyone, and you'll get into it and be entirely at home. And when you laugh, there is fear hiding in your eyes behind the joy. That fear hints at a vulnerability, and I think that is part of what lures me in when you laugh."
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I felt Eagle squirm a little uncomfortably beside me, his breathing pattern becoming erratic for a few moments before he calmed again.
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"There is the way you carry yourself, and then," I paused, my voice suddenly taking on an awed tone, "There is how you show yourself when you dance."
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"Ah," Eagle breathed, murmuring in a way that let me know he found my tone revealing.
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I smiled. "I'm quite moved by you when I see you dance. Perhaps because your heart shows through then. Even through the choreography, your individual passion shows."
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Eagle murmured again, nuzzling my shoulder just a little.
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"Perhaps artists can only close up just so much, but they can't close up all the way. If they did, they would no longer be able to perform," I mused.
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"Yes," Eagle agreed. "That makes sense." Later he told me of his ideal life, living in an artists' colony. I asked him a lot of questions about his ideal situation, his ideal partner. I wanted to know him, to feel him, to get inside his heart. I had no ulterior motive so far as I could tell. I just wanted it because he was there, and he felt good beside me.
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Eagle's touch had gone back and forth between being simply comforting, and being suggestive. Now he was touching the edge of my panties again. His erection, obvious and imposing, pressed against my thigh. I smiled, remembering the times we had fucked before. It had been quite pleasurable.
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He began to kiss my shoulder and moved on top of me. I felt the stirrings of desire in me, but I also knew I was not in his heart. Why do you want me when you don't want to let me in? I wondered.
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He kissed my lips, and I kissed back just a little. His cock pressed against my pelvic bone. He was so hard that it hurt. It felt good to be desired, but concern began to rise in me. Would he feel angry with me if I said no? Would he feel like I had played him by asking to spend the night and then not having sex with him?
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I ran my words through my head for a while, trying to decide what to say and how to say it. His motions were growing more urgent, his hands roaming hungrily over my body.
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"Eagle, I'd really rather have your heart than your cock," I said softly. He stilled, and listened. "You're sweet and you're beautiful, and the times we shared before were very pleasant, but I've learned a lot about myself and what I want since the summer of 2014."
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I had been trying to feel his energy, and now I felt a stabbing pain. I knew it was his pain. It was the sting of rejection.
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"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "I can feel your pain."
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He lifted his weight off of me and laid down again beside me. I wrapped my arms around him. I gave him some time to feel and gather himself.
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"What do you get from sex if it isn't opening up? I remember I was very disappointed that you didn't open up further to me after we had sex before."
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Eagle made some thoughtful noises. "I feel more relaxed," he said. "I always have so much control. It is hard to find rest. It is hard to relax. I want that. I want to have sex with you."
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"Surely you bring gorgeous women into this very bed fairly often," I said.
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"You'd think that," Eagle said, "But sadly, no."
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I frowned. "But you must be able to get beautiful women pretty easily."
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"I can, but then they follow me around like stalkers. Then they call me the bad guy when I won't marry them."
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"There is a lot of programming in women around that. We're told to find a man who will marry us. If he won't, then he isn't really serious. He doesn't really love us. Then he isn't really committed or invested."
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"Exactly," Eagle agreed.
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A little later he reflected: "It seems like my life has had a string of women who were all much more attached to me than I was to them. Always wanting more of my time, more of my attention and energy,."
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"I feel like my life has a string of relationships where I always wanted them more than they wanted me," I said, smiling wryly. "Hence why I feel happier being polyamorous now. Sometimes after Hibiscus goes to bed, I curl up with Paladin - my evening continues. I like that."
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We speculated that it must be after two o'clock in the morning, but we continued talking. I told Eagle how I had learned from my experience in 2014 with him: "There was you - beautiful, strong, and creative - with your easy laughter and blue eyes. And I had another lover that summer. He wasn't beautiful in body, but he had a strong character, and he was very charismatic." I was talking about Panda. "In both cases I found the sex good, and satisfying for a short time, but ultimately not fulfilling. I wanted more. I wanted another relationship outside of Paladin, not just sex.
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"I reflected on how you said you didn't like how women were so clingy. I recall you saying that people contacted you a lot, and that you never had to contact anyone to hang out. They came to you. And I thought about what it would take to keep you in my life. I'd have to call you and chase after you, but never come off as too needy. Always have to present to you my most accepting self if I ever wanted to win your heart."
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"That sounds like a lot of work," Eagle said.
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"Yeah, indeed. Too much. So I didn't chase you, but I was sad. I had hoped that you would be interested enough in the acceptance and freedom that I offered that I would be a magical exception and that you would come to me. But you didn't."
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Eagle didn't apologize, but I could see emotion traveling across the planes of his face. His beauty was of the kind that inspired carved marble statues - a straight nose, shapely lips that were neither overly full nor prudishly thin, a high forehead, prominent cheekbones, cerulean eyes, and curly blond hair that hugged his head in gleaming ringlets. I enjoyed looking at him immensely.
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"It was a lot of work for me to restrain myself as it was," I said softly, watching the tremors in his face that spoke of long-held grief that he couldn't release. "I already felt clingy towards you after having sex. I can't help but open my heart to someone during sex. But I've found that it is better when the emotional intimacy comes first, and the physical intimacy follows it, one step at a time."
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"That seems like a very mature philosophy," Eagle said. "Not one that most of us are able to live up to."
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"I learned it from Paladin. And it took a long time for it to resonate with me. I was rejected a lot when I was a preteen. I chased after boys, and they said no. When I finally found a boy who would say yes, I leaped for it. I knew I didn't love him, and it was obvious he didn't love me. Years later I looked back and I felt used, but still I had a hard time saying 'no' because so often I had faced rejection when I so desperately wanted that connection. I feel that I've come a long, long way."
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Eagle pulled me closer, his touch empathetic. There was no clock, so I didn't know how long we talked, but when Eagle finally began to still and fall asleep, I felt replete. During those wee hours of the night I had felt curiously awake and alive. I felt I was further into Eagle's heart than I'd ever been. I felt sure that not having sex with him was the right choice. And best of all, it had been an easy choice - a natural one. For the first time in my life, saying "no" to sex didn't feel like suffering.
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It feels like freedom, I thought. I fell asleep in Eagle's arms and slept peacefully past the dawn.