About eleven years and eight men ago, I dated my neighbor. He was the first man I dated after my husband died. I wanted him. He was great. He laughed. At himself and the goofy antics we got up to. He sang, he wore CK, he smiled. I saw a future with him. We sat in the hot tub, he slept over, he feed my baby son, he put my toddler daughter to bed. We watched football on the family room couch in our pajamas. He kissed like a dream. We drank together, did errands together, compared music, and talked talked talked.
I wanted to marry him.
But, he wanted to be just friends. Which was confusing to me because whenever he'd come over to "watch a movie," we'd end up fucking. And every time we ended up fucking I thought, "Maybe now he'll want to be my boyfriend." He always felt bad after we made love. Not right then, of course, but the day after. He'd call me or email me and explain again that it just wasn't fair to me to keep having sex, because he didn't see a future with me. He just wanted to be my friend. I'd say, "Yeah, yeah, sure, okay." And the next time we'd get together, I'd ply my femininity and use my hands, and he would breathe faster, and we would join again.
One day I said, "I wish you liked me more." He pulled me to him and pulled off my clothes. "I like you too much. If I didn't like you as much as I do, I would have sex with you, no problem." Somehow his didn't seem contradictory to us making love right then.
"Let's just try it. Please. I know I could make you a good girlfriend. You know you already like me, you know you already like what I do to you...."
So he finally caved.
For two weeks.
Then he said, No. No more. I just want to be friends. Period.
We stopped having sex. He didn't visit much anymore. We started dating other people.
One day my boyfriend at the time broke up with me -- by sending me a letter in the mail! It felt like such a loser way to break up with someone that it spilled over to me. Now I felt like a loser. I didn't love him, but I was still despondent over being dumped, and I wasn't even worth a verbal dumping. He'd sent the US Postal Service to do his dumping.
I called my neighbor over. He cuddled me. He made me laugh. He took my mind off the other guy. And, we ended up fucking. It was glorious. Inevitably the thought came back, "Maybe now he'll want to be my boyfriend."
I smiled all next morning. I smiled all next afternoon. I smiled all evening. Then I went out to my car and drove out my driveway. On the way out of my cul-de-sac, I saw him driving back in. We stopped and rolled down our windows to talk. I don't remember what was said now, but whatever it was -- ordinary enough I'm sure -- I had a true to god Epiphany. So true, in fact, that it didn't hurt. I even smiled when it hit me, strictly because of its Truth.
He didn't want to be my boyfriend.
It was a pity fuck.
He assured me years later that it was not, in fact, a pity fuck. He'd wanted to do it, for him, too. Not just me. It wasn't because he felt sorry for me. But regardless of the reason he fucked me, the reality was still the same.
He didn't want to be my boyfriend.
And I finally believed him. That was the kicker. Somehow I'd tricked my mind into thinking, if I just could convince him with the right words, the right moves, he'd see me. But no. The realization was sweet and simple, and there wasn't any heartache afterward. It was just simply the truth. He didn't want to be my boyfriend.
So now. Current time. 2012. I find myself in a strangely parallel storyline. Though the backstory is much different.
Zi is in NJ, I am in OR. We love each. I'm totally certain of his passion and soul-shattering love for me. But he is without a greencard. And the only reason that he is in this country legally is because he is working for a company that is getting him a greencard. Once he's gone far enough into the process, he can move to OR and we can be together.
"We could get married! We know we love each other. We've even briefly lived with each other. We KNOW we're great in bed. I could get you the greencard. Quit your job and move. We can be together now," I said many many times.
His answer was never yes.
His answer was never no.
It was always a mix of ego and fear, and wait-just-a-minute-that's-not-how-it's-done.
I kept thinking that if I just said it in the right way, with the right words, with the right moves, he would see me. (Sound familiar?) See what I'm offering. See the life we can have. The life he even wants. I know he wants it. He says he wants stability. He says he wants roots, and to come home from work to the woman he loves. He imagines our future together -- even though he says it brings him pain and anxiety to do so. He sees us in Bangalore on the top floor of his parents' house, he sees teaching cricket to us, he sees having a baby with me, he sees telling his parents about me, he sees us living together, and having my pussy around his cock every day.
But I guess I wasn't saying it hard enough. So we've stayed alone, on opposite sides of the country from each other, and repeated -- like a mantra for the broken-hearted -- "the universe just has other plans for us right now." We've been waiting for this un-ending greencard process to continue continue continue.
But it is taking so long, and there is still months and months and months and months to go, that we are both breaking. The distance has proven too much for us.
We decided six weeks ago to start dating other people. I'm not sure what we hoped to accomplish -- dating unsuspecting honest people while we were still madly in love with each other. A recipe for disaster is what that looks like.
The message in my brain keeps saying the same thing over and over and over. It's two messages actually. Looping around each other, like the rounds my daughter's friends sing at her school functions.
The first one is the marriage message. If he would just consent to marriage, we'd be together.
Logistically it really could work! It's not illegal if you love each other, and you were going to do it anyway -- just later. I'd even figured out a way around the timing of the leaving of the job (which is keeping him in status) to the marriage and subsequent paperwork. We could be engaged while he looks for work over here. I could go over to NJ and we'd have the wedding there so he could still be employed. The family greencard paperwork would start and once it was final, he'd move to OR. Or even sooner if he'd secured employment over here. I'm convinced that would be faster than waiting for the employment greencard.
The second message looping in my brain is: If you love someone ... really truly love someone ... then you make it work no matter what.
Why is he really saying no to getting married? Yes, it's not the way he/we envisioned it happening. It's not as organic as we though it would be. It's got some legal red tape wrapped around a couple of the edges. But it would still get us in the same state. In the same city. With the same future ahead of us. Marriage and Family and Foreverness. If he is repeatedly saying 'no' (or more accurately 'not yet') that must mean he doesn't love me as much as I love him. It must mean, on some level, he's just not ready for marriage. Or maybe he's not ready for marriage with me.
Yesterday, I was out of town without internet access, so we were texting a fairly serious conversation. We both prefer to have those in person (which means Skype) so we can hear voice inflection and facial expression. Less chance for misunderstanding.
Nevertheless, here was our conversation via text:
"The only reason I'm not right there beside you is because I think it's not the best place for my kids. It would hurt people if I went there. But I often wonder who it would hurt if you came here? Why aren't you here for me, my aashikji?"
"Because of a cluster fuck."
"When you explain it to me on Skype, or in person, I mostly understand. But here, all my myself, I don't. Doubts creep in and I get confused and feel like there just must not be enough love, if you are in NJ. Why do I feel that? Do I not understand because I don't want to?
"It is because you love me and you want me very much."
"Those things are true, but what does that have to do with me not comprehending how you could stay away from me, by choice. I need my man. I don't just want and love you. I need you. You are my blood and oxygen."
"I understand. I am struggling with this situation."
"I have fantasies about you showing up on my doorstep or outside my work, saying, 'I'm here now. Forever. You said to come, so I did.' And then actually staying."
"I am sorry. We both have to accept our current situation. You know my visa situation."
"This is the part where the hearbreak and not understanding come in. I know you need a greencard to stay in this country and I know I could get you that greencard, but for some reason you don't want it. :( I don't mean to sound naggy or bitchy; it's the tape that's playing over and over in my head though."
"What tape, baby?"
"The recording in my head that repeats and repeats that you don't want me enough to marry me and get the greencard that will allow us to be together."
[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is where I would have expected him to jump in and contradict me. Something akin to, "No no. I do love you! It's just that ...." Instead, this was my response.]
"Do you have the heart to accept our current situation and live with it?"
[Wow. But maybe it was the impersonal method of texting. In Skype I could see his eyes while he said it. Maybe it was said with compassion and angst. So I try again. Telling it like it is from my heart.]
"What else is there to do, Zi? Except convince you otherwise. Sometimes I feel like I'm just not making my wishes and love known well enough to you. Like if I try harder you'll suddenly say 'OH, how foolish I've been.' And then you'll come to me in my dreams AND in my reality."
[Again, I need some reassurance here that he really does love me and that this separation is terrible for him and he dreams of marrying me and that the only reason he's not doing it is .... etc. Instead, he responds with:]
"What is preventing you from accepting our situation and being happy with it?"
[Smack. Maybe that's still the text medium not allowing his lovely voice to caress me with his honest curiosity and concern for me, but that sentence just hurt.]
"Because it's not what I want. It's what I'm begrudgingly settling for. I want you to be a part of my life everyday. Not four times a year."
My battery died at this point, and I was frantic to know his response. I couldn't get to my car to charge up my phone and hear his answer. I took a few deep breaths and let go of knowing for awhile. And what came to me was this: my neighbor.
Zi doesn't want to be married to me.
That's it. It's simple. The Truth. Simple and clean.
I've been begging him to marry me for almost a year. I've asked him, like, eight times. I've figured out legal angles and pleaded with him. I've started losing self-respect -- how many times do you throw yourself at someone before you see yourself?
And just like that day in our cars when I smiled with the Truth of my neighbor, 'He doesn't want to be my boyfriend,' I sat in the country meadow watching my son in a relay race and smiled with the Truth of Zi.
He doesn't want to marry me.
No heartbreak. Just the truth. He's my lover. We have love for each other. We are in love with each other. We fuck like we invented it. We have luscious memories. We have mad travel and porn adventures planned for the future -- if it ever comes -- but we aren't getting married. And I'll stop asking. And he'll stop hedging.
:)
But one more thing.
I'm really worried about Zi.
I'm sad for him.
Because what I see is this. My gut feeling for the future is this story: I will start dating other men. I will fall for one of them and we'll start getting serious. Zi will be sad (as will I) because it's not him, and he'll start seeing someone, because it's time. I'll get even more serious with this other man, maybe we'll even move in together, and Zi will suddenly, and quite seriously, REALIZE.
He will see, in hindsight, that he should've gotten married to me when he had the chance. Just like he wished that he hadn't moved to NJ when he did. He's told me he wished he'd stayed with me while he was looking for work. Or that he wished he'd just concentrated his job search in Portland and Seattle, instead of all over the U.S. Or just like he wished that he'd never asked me to date other men last May. Or when he wished that he'd just stayed with me for a month last summer while he was waiting for his job to start.
He told me once that he used to be a planner. He meticulously planned ages in advance, until he realized that nothing he every planned worked out. So he stopped. He began an era of just going with the flow. Which is nice for lessening anxiety, but ... I wonder if this is now the consequence of that 'not planning.'
Always wishing you'd done something different.
When I finally got my cell charged up, the long awaited text response was this:
"So you don't want to be a part of this relationship where I am your lover?"
I never responded. I was still thinking. Processing this parallel Zi/neighbor thing.
But here's my response now.
"Of course I do. I love you, and will for a long time. Probably forever. You are an amazing part of my life. You've taught me so much about myself. And your cock is to die for. I want to fuck you for as long as can.
It might be ... and I think I'll be able to tell this summer when I visit in July ... that continuing the physical connection may be too hard for me to distance myself emotionally enough to date other men successfully. Sex is sex, yes, but with you it is so much more.
And it might be that if I continue having sex with you, I may find it hard to have a normal life in OR; my heart will still be in NJ. But I don't know that for sure.
And I'm willing to wait and see.
I do love you. So so much, Zi.
You are almost everything I want.
:)
It's ok that you don't want to do what it takes to be together.
I forgive you.
I forgive myself.
I love you and I love me.
No bitterness.
As it always will be.
As far as this transition goes, I no longer sob myself to sleep every night. I've stopped starring at your picture and listening to Julia Stone's This Love or Allie Moss's Something To Hold Onto. But there are tearful moments in the day -- as many as 5 days a week if I'm honest -- and I still see you everywhere I look. And I have activated my OKCupid account.
But that's all the progress I've made so far.
Well, and the moment of Truth I smiled at yesterday in the meadow.
I love you, Zi.
Forever.
Even if we never marry.
And I'll fuck you for as long as I can."
I wanted to marry him.
But, he wanted to be just friends. Which was confusing to me because whenever he'd come over to "watch a movie," we'd end up fucking. And every time we ended up fucking I thought, "Maybe now he'll want to be my boyfriend." He always felt bad after we made love. Not right then, of course, but the day after. He'd call me or email me and explain again that it just wasn't fair to me to keep having sex, because he didn't see a future with me. He just wanted to be my friend. I'd say, "Yeah, yeah, sure, okay." And the next time we'd get together, I'd ply my femininity and use my hands, and he would breathe faster, and we would join again.
One day I said, "I wish you liked me more." He pulled me to him and pulled off my clothes. "I like you too much. If I didn't like you as much as I do, I would have sex with you, no problem." Somehow his didn't seem contradictory to us making love right then.
"Let's just try it. Please. I know I could make you a good girlfriend. You know you already like me, you know you already like what I do to you...."
So he finally caved.
For two weeks.
Then he said, No. No more. I just want to be friends. Period.
We stopped having sex. He didn't visit much anymore. We started dating other people.
One day my boyfriend at the time broke up with me -- by sending me a letter in the mail! It felt like such a loser way to break up with someone that it spilled over to me. Now I felt like a loser. I didn't love him, but I was still despondent over being dumped, and I wasn't even worth a verbal dumping. He'd sent the US Postal Service to do his dumping.
I called my neighbor over. He cuddled me. He made me laugh. He took my mind off the other guy. And, we ended up fucking. It was glorious. Inevitably the thought came back, "Maybe now he'll want to be my boyfriend."
I smiled all next morning. I smiled all next afternoon. I smiled all evening. Then I went out to my car and drove out my driveway. On the way out of my cul-de-sac, I saw him driving back in. We stopped and rolled down our windows to talk. I don't remember what was said now, but whatever it was -- ordinary enough I'm sure -- I had a true to god Epiphany. So true, in fact, that it didn't hurt. I even smiled when it hit me, strictly because of its Truth.
He didn't want to be my boyfriend.
It was a pity fuck.
He assured me years later that it was not, in fact, a pity fuck. He'd wanted to do it, for him, too. Not just me. It wasn't because he felt sorry for me. But regardless of the reason he fucked me, the reality was still the same.
He didn't want to be my boyfriend.
And I finally believed him. That was the kicker. Somehow I'd tricked my mind into thinking, if I just could convince him with the right words, the right moves, he'd see me. But no. The realization was sweet and simple, and there wasn't any heartache afterward. It was just simply the truth. He didn't want to be my boyfriend.
So now. Current time. 2012. I find myself in a strangely parallel storyline. Though the backstory is much different.
Zi is in NJ, I am in OR. We love each. I'm totally certain of his passion and soul-shattering love for me. But he is without a greencard. And the only reason that he is in this country legally is because he is working for a company that is getting him a greencard. Once he's gone far enough into the process, he can move to OR and we can be together.
"We could get married! We know we love each other. We've even briefly lived with each other. We KNOW we're great in bed. I could get you the greencard. Quit your job and move. We can be together now," I said many many times.
His answer was never yes.
His answer was never no.
It was always a mix of ego and fear, and wait-just-a-minute-that's-not-how-it's-done.
I kept thinking that if I just said it in the right way, with the right words, with the right moves, he would see me. (Sound familiar?) See what I'm offering. See the life we can have. The life he even wants. I know he wants it. He says he wants stability. He says he wants roots, and to come home from work to the woman he loves. He imagines our future together -- even though he says it brings him pain and anxiety to do so. He sees us in Bangalore on the top floor of his parents' house, he sees teaching cricket to us, he sees having a baby with me, he sees telling his parents about me, he sees us living together, and having my pussy around his cock every day.
But I guess I wasn't saying it hard enough. So we've stayed alone, on opposite sides of the country from each other, and repeated -- like a mantra for the broken-hearted -- "the universe just has other plans for us right now." We've been waiting for this un-ending greencard process to continue continue continue.
But it is taking so long, and there is still months and months and months and months to go, that we are both breaking. The distance has proven too much for us.
We decided six weeks ago to start dating other people. I'm not sure what we hoped to accomplish -- dating unsuspecting honest people while we were still madly in love with each other. A recipe for disaster is what that looks like.
The message in my brain keeps saying the same thing over and over and over. It's two messages actually. Looping around each other, like the rounds my daughter's friends sing at her school functions.
The first one is the marriage message. If he would just consent to marriage, we'd be together.
Logistically it really could work! It's not illegal if you love each other, and you were going to do it anyway -- just later. I'd even figured out a way around the timing of the leaving of the job (which is keeping him in status) to the marriage and subsequent paperwork. We could be engaged while he looks for work over here. I could go over to NJ and we'd have the wedding there so he could still be employed. The family greencard paperwork would start and once it was final, he'd move to OR. Or even sooner if he'd secured employment over here. I'm convinced that would be faster than waiting for the employment greencard.
The second message looping in my brain is: If you love someone ... really truly love someone ... then you make it work no matter what.
Why is he really saying no to getting married? Yes, it's not the way he/we envisioned it happening. It's not as organic as we though it would be. It's got some legal red tape wrapped around a couple of the edges. But it would still get us in the same state. In the same city. With the same future ahead of us. Marriage and Family and Foreverness. If he is repeatedly saying 'no' (or more accurately 'not yet') that must mean he doesn't love me as much as I love him. It must mean, on some level, he's just not ready for marriage. Or maybe he's not ready for marriage with me.
Yesterday, I was out of town without internet access, so we were texting a fairly serious conversation. We both prefer to have those in person (which means Skype) so we can hear voice inflection and facial expression. Less chance for misunderstanding.
Nevertheless, here was our conversation via text:
"The only reason I'm not right there beside you is because I think it's not the best place for my kids. It would hurt people if I went there. But I often wonder who it would hurt if you came here? Why aren't you here for me, my aashikji?"
"Because of a cluster fuck."
"When you explain it to me on Skype, or in person, I mostly understand. But here, all my myself, I don't. Doubts creep in and I get confused and feel like there just must not be enough love, if you are in NJ. Why do I feel that? Do I not understand because I don't want to?
"It is because you love me and you want me very much."
"Those things are true, but what does that have to do with me not comprehending how you could stay away from me, by choice. I need my man. I don't just want and love you. I need you. You are my blood and oxygen."
"I understand. I am struggling with this situation."
"I have fantasies about you showing up on my doorstep or outside my work, saying, 'I'm here now. Forever. You said to come, so I did.' And then actually staying."
"I am sorry. We both have to accept our current situation. You know my visa situation."
"This is the part where the hearbreak and not understanding come in. I know you need a greencard to stay in this country and I know I could get you that greencard, but for some reason you don't want it. :( I don't mean to sound naggy or bitchy; it's the tape that's playing over and over in my head though."
"What tape, baby?"
"The recording in my head that repeats and repeats that you don't want me enough to marry me and get the greencard that will allow us to be together."
[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is where I would have expected him to jump in and contradict me. Something akin to, "No no. I do love you! It's just that ...." Instead, this was my response.]
"Do you have the heart to accept our current situation and live with it?"
[Wow. But maybe it was the impersonal method of texting. In Skype I could see his eyes while he said it. Maybe it was said with compassion and angst. So I try again. Telling it like it is from my heart.]
"What else is there to do, Zi? Except convince you otherwise. Sometimes I feel like I'm just not making my wishes and love known well enough to you. Like if I try harder you'll suddenly say 'OH, how foolish I've been.' And then you'll come to me in my dreams AND in my reality."
[Again, I need some reassurance here that he really does love me and that this separation is terrible for him and he dreams of marrying me and that the only reason he's not doing it is .... etc. Instead, he responds with:]
"What is preventing you from accepting our situation and being happy with it?"
[Smack. Maybe that's still the text medium not allowing his lovely voice to caress me with his honest curiosity and concern for me, but that sentence just hurt.]
"Because it's not what I want. It's what I'm begrudgingly settling for. I want you to be a part of my life everyday. Not four times a year."
My battery died at this point, and I was frantic to know his response. I couldn't get to my car to charge up my phone and hear his answer. I took a few deep breaths and let go of knowing for awhile. And what came to me was this: my neighbor.
Zi doesn't want to be married to me.
That's it. It's simple. The Truth. Simple and clean.
I've been begging him to marry me for almost a year. I've asked him, like, eight times. I've figured out legal angles and pleaded with him. I've started losing self-respect -- how many times do you throw yourself at someone before you see yourself?
And just like that day in our cars when I smiled with the Truth of my neighbor, 'He doesn't want to be my boyfriend,' I sat in the country meadow watching my son in a relay race and smiled with the Truth of Zi.
He doesn't want to marry me.
No heartbreak. Just the truth. He's my lover. We have love for each other. We are in love with each other. We fuck like we invented it. We have luscious memories. We have mad travel and porn adventures planned for the future -- if it ever comes -- but we aren't getting married. And I'll stop asking. And he'll stop hedging.
:)
But one more thing.
I'm really worried about Zi.
I'm sad for him.
Because what I see is this. My gut feeling for the future is this story: I will start dating other men. I will fall for one of them and we'll start getting serious. Zi will be sad (as will I) because it's not him, and he'll start seeing someone, because it's time. I'll get even more serious with this other man, maybe we'll even move in together, and Zi will suddenly, and quite seriously, REALIZE.
He will see, in hindsight, that he should've gotten married to me when he had the chance. Just like he wished that he hadn't moved to NJ when he did. He's told me he wished he'd stayed with me while he was looking for work. Or that he wished he'd just concentrated his job search in Portland and Seattle, instead of all over the U.S. Or just like he wished that he'd never asked me to date other men last May. Or when he wished that he'd just stayed with me for a month last summer while he was waiting for his job to start.
He told me once that he used to be a planner. He meticulously planned ages in advance, until he realized that nothing he every planned worked out. So he stopped. He began an era of just going with the flow. Which is nice for lessening anxiety, but ... I wonder if this is now the consequence of that 'not planning.'
Always wishing you'd done something different.
When I finally got my cell charged up, the long awaited text response was this:
"So you don't want to be a part of this relationship where I am your lover?"
I never responded. I was still thinking. Processing this parallel Zi/neighbor thing.
But here's my response now.
"Of course I do. I love you, and will for a long time. Probably forever. You are an amazing part of my life. You've taught me so much about myself. And your cock is to die for. I want to fuck you for as long as can.
It might be ... and I think I'll be able to tell this summer when I visit in July ... that continuing the physical connection may be too hard for me to distance myself emotionally enough to date other men successfully. Sex is sex, yes, but with you it is so much more.
And it might be that if I continue having sex with you, I may find it hard to have a normal life in OR; my heart will still be in NJ. But I don't know that for sure.
And I'm willing to wait and see.
I do love you. So so much, Zi.
You are almost everything I want.
:)
It's ok that you don't want to do what it takes to be together.
I forgive you.
I forgive myself.
I love you and I love me.
No bitterness.
As it always will be.
As far as this transition goes, I no longer sob myself to sleep every night. I've stopped starring at your picture and listening to Julia Stone's This Love or Allie Moss's Something To Hold Onto. But there are tearful moments in the day -- as many as 5 days a week if I'm honest -- and I still see you everywhere I look. And I have activated my OKCupid account.
But that's all the progress I've made so far.
Well, and the moment of Truth I smiled at yesterday in the meadow.
I love you, Zi.
Forever.
Even if we never marry.
And I'll fuck you for as long as I can."
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