Alexander

I can’t really discuss the details of this one. I’ve been intentionally avoiding mentioning him… well forever. Alexander is a bit of an enigma in my life and has been for years. Through all my stories he’s remained an intentional void that I’ve trying to brush off as insignificant. My closest friends know he exists, but almost no one knows who he is. He’s my secret.

I’ve been drawn to Alexander since the moment we met. He seduced me five years ago and I’ve been unable to walk away since. I was young, and infatuated with his dominance and charisma. His soft blue eyes saw through me faster than anyone previously or since. His arrogance fascinated and scared me. His manner would float between flirty and attentive, and condescending and dismissive. He was charming and manipulative, and I fell into his seduction. I loved the feel of his soft blonde hair between my fingers, his strong hands caressing my soft body, the smell of him, and the taste of his skin.

That was forever ago and now it’s just different. I don’t know what to say about him. I don’t know what to say about how I am around him… The reality is that once I accepted that The Musician and I had probably run our course I stopped avoiding Alexander. I hadn’t seen him in almost two years but we had been flirting over email for the past few months. I finally gave in and let him back into my life a couple weeks ago.

I expected it to be a no good very bad idea but things have changed, as I guess one would expect after five years, and I’m surprised. I grew up and the games we used to play have matured into something I can’t define.

I want to hate him simply because of what he represents and how impossible he is but I melt in his arms, wrapped in a false sense of comfort. I’m simultaneously powerful, content, and vulnerable. I feel exposed, weak, and intensely calm when I’m his presence. I alternate between adoring and despising him. I want him to kiss me and hold me, torment me, challenge and restrain me. I want him to caress me. I just want to feel his energy around me.

I’m apprehensive talking about it, but it’s real now and I’m having trouble avoiding the trepidation in my mind. I’m scared of him. I’m scared of how I feel about him and how I could feel. I like being around him. We’ve existed in such an isolated bubble that really we don’t know each other. I don’t know how to properly define it anymore but fuck-buddy is still probably the most accurate. I’m in unfamiliar territory and my level of vulnerability worries me. I doubt he wants me for anything more than a play toy but if I’m honest with myself I know I’m actually curious to get to know him. I could get hurt—I know.

Another one bites the dust

I just found out The Drake will be closing its doors for good on June 9, 2007. I burst into tears when I heard. Those of you who have followed this blog know that The Drake has been a home and a sanctuary for me and an incredible venue for events like Dancers for Cancer. Nick is probably one of the best mangers I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with and I’m devastated by the loss.

We really are an endangered species in Vancouver. We’re not going to last long. I suggest everyone get out and support the strip clubs in Vancouver before they’re all gone. I’ll be at The Drake on June 9— saying goodbye, sharing a drink, and likely crying.

I won’t be on that stage again… I’m really going to miss it.

Dating vs. Fucking

Well most of my friends are aware that I’m “dating” again and know how incredibly unique my perceptions are. Spader was asking me about how my most recent date had gone and after my detached report he broke it down for me. “Most people don’t think of “fucking” and “dating” as two mutually exclusive worlds that shall never meet. Most people actually fuck the people they date.”

Ick. What?

I’m totally busted on that one. I guess the key to my learning how to date, or eventually even consider a relationship will be in convincing me to fuck the men I date, or date the men I fuck. This looks like a pretty big challenge.

Here’s my logic.

Say you meet a guy in a bar, decide he’s good enough and take him home and fuck him. Everyone can acknowledge that as a one-night stand. It is what it is and it works well for some people. But say you meet a guy in a bar and you like him. You make out with him a bit but don’t have sex because you like him. First date goes well. Second date is lovely. By the third date the expectation of sex is there. So say you fuck him because you’ve been wanting to do him since you first met him, but one-night stands are ‘dirty’ or whatever.

The way I see it the difference between fucking the first night or on the third date is about six hours in time spent together. In my mind it’s still fucking a stranger and it doesn’t do anything for me. Most guys aren’t willing to hang around without getting laid for the months it takes for me to decide if I’m even interested. After three dates he’s not someone I know, or trust. Instead of some guy that bought a couple drinks- he’s some guy that’s bought a couple dinners.

If I wanted to have sex with men I either don’t know, or barely know, I’d be an escort.

I have no desire to have sex with a man I hardly know. At this point I’m envious of the incredible women that do. I’ve been off work for a month now because of this stupid accident and honestly I am wishing I was comfortable fucking strangers because then I wouldn’t be in such a financial free-fall. I could just fuck for money and be done with it.

I don’t know why some women are able to do it and others aren’t but I know it’s not something that is an emotionally healthy option for me.

The Musician was someone I trusted and someone that I actually took the time to know. I was comfortable with him, and I felt safe in our isolated affair. I knew his life and he knew mine and it was a very honest relationship. The rules changed and the affair ended but I can’t just replace that with some random guy I hardly know.

The few men that have earned the title “fuck buddy” in my life have been long term (years) affairs with a man that I feel to be a kindred spirit and with who I share a powerful connection. Granted I’ve certainly lived through my share of heart breaks and disasters but at least it was always honest and real. Attachments do develop after years of being intimate with someone but I’d still rather have that than a 3-week fling with some guy I hardly know.

I still wouldn’t recommend dating me. I’m complicated.

Change.

My life is changing again. I’m not sure how I’m dealing with it, but I suppose I am. Nothing feels too drastic, except the lack of work-- but when I step back and look at my life I’m struck by how rapidly my world has shifted.

I’m hurt and no amount of demanding to be better is helping. I’ve had to accept that it’s going to take time and even though I want to be healed and back at work yesterday- that’s just not realistic. My circumstances have changed significantly and I know the financial repercussions of this accident are forcing me to make some tough choices. I’ve already spent next year’s tuition and even once I’m back at work it’s probably going to take me a while to get myself back on track.

My personal life is different. All of a sudden I’ve run out of excuses, and I have free time. I’m dating again. Nothing serious but I haven’t seen The Musician in a while and this time I think we might be done. He and I have certainly gone longer without speaking and we’ve had our share of ups and downs over the years-- but this feels different. Some things were said and some things have just changed. It’s one thing for me to just not care. I’ve been emotionally unavailable for a long time. It’s totally another for me to try to force myself to pretend not to care.

I know many people will be glad to see that affair fade into the past, but I’m not. I miss him and I’m hurt that he’s dropped off the face of the planet when I’m so bored and isolated in this city. I know it was just an affair and that I never really meant anything to him… but there were moments when I thought maybe I did.

Sometimes I feel like so many people want something for me that I don’t want, that wouldn’t be what I need. I know I have some friends that just want me to find a “nice guy” that will treat me “right”. I probably shouldn’t be so annoyed by that desire. But it’s impossible to convey that their idea of a good relationship is simply not what I need.

I don’t want or need a nice guy. I need something different and I’m not willing to settle for a stand-in or warm body. I’d rather be alone than give myself to someone that has no chance of ever understanding or appreciating me. I know what I need. I’ve known for years what I actually need. I just expect it to take years for Him to find me.

What I need is rare and there are very few Men that are powerful enough to be with me. I want my soul mate. I don’t know who He is. I don’t know what His face looks like or what He smells like but I know what He is.

I saw The Brat

I saw The Brat tonight while I was out for dinner with a friend. He was with some blonde girl and they looked absolutely miserable. I watched from the shadows of my booth as he drummed his fingers on the table and she stared awkwardly into her lap.

From the corner of my eye I caught some gesture that triggered my memory. My mood sank as I turned and watched him, allowing my mind to float over memories. He saw me. I saw him. We never made eye contact. We didn’t speak. But I saw him, and that’s all it took. I remember that I liked him. I remember that he didn’t want me. It was just weird seeing him again. I didn’t expect it.

I’m so tired of being a secret. I don’t know what I actually want, or what I’m capable of… but I’m just tired of being disposable. Seeing The Brat brought back a multitude of memories, how much fun we used to have laughing and arguing together, how peaceful I felt walking along the beach with him, and how disappointed I was when he chose someone else. They all choose someone else.

I want to be with someone I trust enough to fall asleep with. I want to be with someone that I know actually cares about me. I don’t know how. Really, I don’t believe it exists- not for me.

It's different

It’s been a strange week. I don’t really know what to say about anything. I’m incredibly frustrated that I can’t just snap my fingers and heal my body. I’m not used to being so limited. I don’t know what to say…

The sun is shining as I wait for the ferry to arrive. It’s a beautiful day and I’m incredibly thankful to be living on the West Coast of Canada. It’s surreal, but I’m lonely. My best friends are on the island or far away, and being off work has really made me realize how isolated I can be in Vancouver. I have a few stripper friends, but… I want to be around the people that really know me.

I don’t feel like a stripper right now, and there are parts that I really enjoy about being in the “real world”. I like waking up in the morning, being out during the day and not constantly checking the time to make sure I’m not late for a show. It’s been different interacting with the world as me, rather than the stripper. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, just different. I miss work desperately. I’m craving the stage like an aphrodisiac. I miss it. I need it. I love it.

I’m feeling a little lost. I’m not feeling whole. A huge piece of my life has been taken away from me, my passion. I just want to dance. Everything will be okay once I’m back on stage.