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February 14, 2015


Happy Valentines day. Valentine's Day celebrates being struck in the heart by the arrow from Cupid's bow. Struck down and in love.

Which I'm not... haven't been for almost 10 years - taking time off just because I'm occupied with other things these days, I'll be moving soon and it's complicated. Soon I do hope to be struck down by the arrow of love. As has happened many times in the past.

How to achieve a successful relationship once it happens? Or in my experience, how to fuck it up unintentionally?

My first relationship was when I was in 8th grade. A girl named Brenda. It was a very sharp hit by Cupid's bow. We kissed a lot, talked on the phone for hours - the subject of what she was wearing, her breasts came up. I gave her my fathers chain bracelet he'd given me. She gave me one in return. Other than kissing we didn't know what to do... the thought of sex didn't occur to me, nor do I think to her. For one week we were in paradise together.

Then, for reasons I don't remember we broke up. My first broken heart. I was surprised when two weeks later she wanted to make up with me. Something my naive mind said, "once broken up there is no getting back together". So I told her, "no". Then, several years later, a surprise phone call from Brenda. "How was I? Thinking of you. Do I want to meet?" 

Again I said "no". Idiot. And when several years after that when I realized I was an idiot I tried to call her. I got her mother; she wouldn't allow me to talk with her. She was stable, in a relationship. Go away and don't call back.

Alrighty then... mommy speaking for her 40-something year old daughter. I had wanted to apologize. That's all.

Oh, but I didn't spend my life mulling and pursuing Brenda. My first relationship that lasted was when I was 16, her name was Diane. Her cousin who I worked with fixed us up. It lasted 3 years. I was 19 when I broke up with her and I only remember two things we did together. I remember sitting on the couch in their living room with her. I remember her parents would go upstairs; out of sight, out of my mind. Sometimes they would be out. We would embrace and kiss and I could feel her body outside her clothing only. In 3 years I never actually was successful getting my hand on her naked breasts. The other thing I remember is she would only kiss closed mouth; no French kissing.

I asked her about it once while we were on her porch. I asked, "why won't you French kiss?"

She said, "I had a boyfriend before you who I did that with and he left me".

Water under the bridge.

By age 21 I had met Sue. I had been living on my own for two years and it was inevitable that this virgin meet his match.

Sue was a woman-kid, full of energy and vitality. It was a miracle, our having a relationship.

I met Sue at a party. Somehow we were introduced or I or her said "Hi". I didn't have a car at the time... I was on a minimal living overhead rebellion at the time. I asked her for a lift home.

Sue had dark brown hair, big, dark brown eyes, stood about 5'2" and was built. She was very amiable. I felt very relaxed with her, and I was in her car as she drove me home. I was in love, only I didn't know it then. I didn't ask her for her phone number though I knew what town she lived in. I won't admit to being an idiot, I mean things ended up working out (more about that in few seconds) and that wasn't the last time that happened, that I didn't take advantage of an opportunity.

I was raised during the 1950's. A pretty weird time. I was too young for "Happy Days" or to know anything about the Rock and Roll revolution. I learned prejudice (which fortunately by age 21 I had chucked away) and rigid moral/personal restriction. Finding a woman, dating, getting engaged and married, having 2.5 children, buying a house with a white picket fence in an upscale part of town, that was life.

Every situation I would find myself that impression would act upon me. So no, I didn't ask Sue for her phone # because something within me told me not to. So days later I was hurting to find her. I had some info... I don't recall what... I made a phone call, got a woman who I thought was her and we talked for 15 minutes until she realized I hadn't called to speak with her... we laughed and she gave me Sue's phone number.

I called her. We arranged a date, at her house for dinner. Wow, meet the parents the first night. I arranged a ride home with a friend when later came, and set out for a ten-mile walk to her house. It was a walk that would take me a quarter of the way around the southeast end of a lake. A storm blew in and with it torrential rain. I was soaked to the bone by the time I arrived at Sue's house around 7PM. Her mother took my clothes giving me some temporary ones while she dried my wet clothes. We sat down to a great Italian spaghetti dinner, where I was reprimanded only once for using my bread to swipe up sauce.

We agreed to meet again, but of course I didn't set a date then, instead I went home and lamented upon my situation which was really a non-issue.

I bent my friend Keven's ear, telling of my fears that I was imaging her interest in me. That she must have a boyfriend, she was just being nice. My mind was chugging away at all the reasons it couldn't work. Then my friend said, "well if you don't call her surely someone else will". The answer appeared suddenly in the front of my eyes. Call her and ask her out, gee, why not?

Sue was my first "real" girlfriend. We did everything together. We fucked like rabbits. Then she got the idea she wanted to fuck other guys too. That was after we'd found an apartment together which upset both our parents. My mother accused me "of playing house". Living in sin in a make believe house. Other men were attracted to Sue, and would invite her out and call. At first she said, "no". But it was on her mind. What should have been on my mind was asking her to be my wife, forget other men, be mine. But that is what our parents were drilling into us. So it became the "Valentine's Day Rebellion" when she went to have lunch with an ex-boyfriend and came home crying that he'd raped her. She filed charges and the relationship was off to rough waters.

She had other relationships after that she would tell me about. I would tell her, "I don't own you, I love you".

The relationship actually lasted 3 and 1/2 years... and we parted as friends. Over the next few decades this "open relationship" concept would come up many times in many ways. Sometimes I was the other man and other times it was the same old, "I don't own you". I was adamant that jealousy would not be a part of my relationships.

I think now at age 60 it's not about "ownership" at all. That is just one more odd idea I've had over the years. Sure it's easy to say, "I just never met the 'right' woman". But I have. And I let them go. Too many times.

I'm not suggesting jealousy is good for a relationship. I'm not even saying an "open-relationship concept" can't work; it can. I have a long time friend, who is married to a woman I met years ago. I was leaving to move to Arizona at the time from New York State where I grew up. Her name was Joni. She was of South pacific origin, black hair, tan skin, slender with small breasts and big dark eyes. I didn't move away for long and when I returned she had ironically been matched up with Earl, my best friend.

Joni was like me; very hesitant to get wrapped up into a relationship, or marriage. The 3 of us ended up living together in the country and often Joni and I would gt naked in bed and play, getting each other off, but without ever having intercourse. I had other girlfriends at the time - this was simply something we did.

What I'm saying with regards to open relationships is we are an immature species when it comes to relationships. We are still mostly going by instinct and behavioral models. Relationships are way more complicated than with what resources we are provided in life to deal with such a thing.

In 1981 I moved to Boston and one of my first out of state guests were Earl and Joni. They stayed for a weekend. Earl told me while Joni went to the bathroom that Joni wanted to have sex with me. So the three of us ended up falling into bed to have a weekend of sex.

After that weekend Earl and Joni got married and have lived happily ever after.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

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