Monday, September 20, 2004
Ongoing Epistolary Exploits
At any given time, I've usually got about three of these going. Generally they are guys whom I hooked up with a few times and then became friends with - never anybody I actually dated. (And never anybody I never fucked, or fucked after we were friends. The friendship totally has to come out of fucking, for whatever reason.) Also, these are guys who do not live in the same city as I do. (If they did, the whole thing would be ruined, because part of what keeps my interest is that it's all about reading (into) their emails - if they were here then that wouldn't be enough.) One of these past conquests has been in the picture for about the past five years (yes, even when I was with Jerk), and another one has been around for about a year (Rocket Scientist, whom I have mentioned a couple of times). The third slot is ever-shifting, and currently I've got a vacancy. If Freud moved away, he could well end up being in slot #3. The point to these correspondences is that there is still some spark of sexual tension there but that there isn't any real likelihood of acting on it. I've managed to become friends with these guys, but at the same time we're not friendly enough actually to call each other up on the phone or to plan to visit one another. If I get an email from one of them, I feel wildly attractive because since we're not really friends I can surmise that they only email in the hope that someday we will be together (cheesy, I know), and if I don't get an email I'm not hurt because I realize that I'm not really in their lives. All in all, any time I get one of these emails it gives me a little boost, and the presence of these imaginary boyfriends has often helped me to focus on work and/or to get rid of real attachments that are going nowhere fast. Oh, and key to all of this is that I've got to really like/respect/want-to-bang the guy in order for him to be an imaginary boyfriend. Nevertheless, the sex that we had previously does not have to have been mind-blowing - in fact, generally that is not the case.
So. The email was from my pseudo-ex, Rocket Scientist, who had been living in my hometown but moved to Florida in May. We were out of touch all summer, and we haven't been in consistent touch since he emailed me at the end of August. Well, apparently he still thinks of me (fondly) as he wrote the following to me:
Hey cutie, i'm drunk so i thought i'd e-mail you. you should come down to
you've got an ass that won't quit (simpson's
reference). :) anyway, come down soon
talk to ya' later
He sent this email at 3:43 AM Sunday. I love him! He is my favorite! (And yes, I realize this is a lame email, but the fact that A. he thought of me when he was drunk and B. that he invited me to Florida when he was drunk, even though we're not in any way close friends tells me that C. he has fond memories of banging me and D. he would like to bang me again.)
So, when I read the above I got a goofy grin on my face and emailed him back the following:
Hello, drunk boy :)
Hmmm.... an interesting proposition, this invitation to
visit you in your hurricane-riddled state. I wonder whether in the sober light
of day this offer still stands.
Must go prepare for student conferences. xo,
And I thought to myself, I would go visit him in a heartbeat. With a song in my heart and a spring in my step, I would go visit him with the express purpose of fucking him senseless. In spite of the ongoing drama with Freud. At the end of the day, I don't feel like I don't want to fuck other people, and that's what I feel when I really care about somebody in the beginning. And I like the fact that things with Freud are ill-defined, because it means that I am free to do whatever the fuck I want without having to explain it or justify it. I know that if things were defined with Freud that he would expect monogamy from me (hell, he seems to expect it even though we're not), and I'm not in a monogamous place right now (clearly). So. Once again, an imaginary lover has helped to clarify my real-life situation. And to think that I had been feeling guilty for making out with Stupid Freud's Friend.