Stuff is Really Just Happenin' All Over the Place

Last Saturday morning, I was doing my usual...fiddling around on my trusty, ole Mac, working on the blog and typing e-mails and stuff. I had my IM screen up but wasn't talking to anyone. I heard that "ffft" sound which indicates that one of my "friends" has signed on or off or something and I looked over to see who it might be. A wave of compunction contaminated my complacency when I noticed that it was my beloved Mark, and it's not as if I haven't seen him sign on and off like a million times before, it wasn't that, the reason I got kinda wigged out was because for the first time ever - he had changed his profile pic. from a city skyline to an actual photo of his glorious face. I was now in nothing short of a dither, because I hadn't seen him in so long and I was ecstatic to ogle this tiny picture of his puss. The problem was that I suspected that he was most likely chattin' it up with one of his recent conquests and that he must've put the pic. up for her benefit. But I pondered the miniscule possibility that perhaps, maybe just maybe...he'd done it for me, either to maliciously torment me, or better yet, to coax me into breaking our silence. So, what to do now? Should I ignore him and respect his privacy as I had done for all of those torturous months since being banished from his life? Or act on the confounding impulse to drop him a line? I decided to write, "I'm sorry! I just can't take it anymore! Especially since you put up that new pic.. Are you gonna be mean to me if I just say HI?" He wasn't mean to me at all. It was great to see his voice again, I was aflutter with excitement and anxiety the entire time, in fact my agitation increased the longer we talked. I have missed him more than anything. You guys know that I've been unsuccessfully forcing myself to try and block him out of my head and my heart since we severed ties, and in turn to transfer my obsession onto some other pour soul. But no man has filled Mark's shoes, in any regard, and we're talking about a guy who I've never even touched and who I still may never actually meet, which makes my adoration seem preposterous, doesn't it? Here's where Frances would interject that for me - it's all about the chase and Mark, being the ultimate challenge, captures my attention like no other, for the simple fact that the task of catching him, for real, is formidable, to say the least. Anyway, Mark and I shot the shit, as if we'd never stopped talking in the first place, and once again I was over the moon for him. Throughout the next couple of days we were back to our trademark frolicking, teasing each other with revealing texts and tempting messages, he even bestowed upon me the most delectable mini-video, which I must've replayed like 55 times, sweet jesus! I loved finally feeling alive and forgiven and missed. I wondered if we would continue to pick up exactly where the good stuff had left off, months ago...and if we did, well then, what about my continued online dating and indiscretions and the dreaded blog? Did he still read the derned thing? I didn't even want to bring it up with him, when we spoke, hoping that maybe he'd forgotten about it. Should I keep meeting and dating and writing explicit entries about my follies at the risk of being harshly dismissed by him, yet another agonizing time? I can't explain why I am so protective of his feelings. My sensible head tells me that certainly he should expect nothing other than for me to date and be the single girl that I am and look for a man with whom I could share my life, after all he gets to snuggle up with his woman each and every night, you know...seems only fair. The trouble is, that I can go through the motions of meeting and flirting and dating and screwing, but will I allow myself to fall for someone if Mark is in the picture at all? I am seriously hung up on this perfect stranger. In hindsight, I'm thinking that when I wrote to him I fully expected to get shut down definitively which would've sucked but it also would've provided a little closure to know that there was no chance of perpetuating our inveterate improprieties. I think then I might've been able to more easily move on. But that's not what happened and I was delighted and dismayed at the same time that he actually gave me the time of day. See, here's the trick...before mending fences with Mark, I had already made plans to see Soldier Boy Jack, remember? And sometime after reuniting with Mark I nearly derailed the plan to meet Jack by passive-aggressively accusing him of philandering, which would be fine with me as long as he came clean about it. He was clearly irritated with my reproachful comments and even though he admitted that he still wanted to give me the fucking of a lifetime, he wasn't all that excited about dealing with my erratic behavior and unfounded accusations, if I was intent on persisting. I sent him a somewhat heated note defending my suppositions and evidently my fiery attitude, infuriated him but also caused quite a stirring in his loins. We ended up getting things straightened out and I couldn't help but contemplate the possibility that I had somewhat subconsciously (or even consciously) tried to sabotage our plans in an attempt to stay true-ish to Mark. I know, it makes absolutely no sense to protect the feelings of a guy who I'll most likely never meet. I decided to go through with my plans to meet Jack which I am doing tonight. The sexual tension between us online has steadily accrued and if I am as attracted to him in person as I have been during our conversations, I know we will fuck..a lot. Since my instincts are chronically off the mark though, I realize that there is the very likely possibility that I will not feel it for him when we meet. So now the predicament, what to do about Mark? Shouldn't I continue to galavant around the internet and elsewhere in search of the man of my dreams? Can I carry on relations with a tangible human but continue to mess around with Mark, online? What if by some stroke of magic, things actually take off with me and the Soldier Boy, can I carry on simultaneous "relationships" with cyber Mark and real life Jack, or will I be cheating on them both? Can cyber sex even be considered cheating? (borrowed that one from you, Matt...hope you don't mind...) Cuz if it is than I'm in deeper doo doo than I ever could've imagined. Things are a little more complicated than I think you might realize. There is still another factor in this convoluted equation...I haven't yet told you about Brennan...

Brennan and I have been IM'ing each other for at least a month now despite the nearly nil probability that we will ever hook up considering he lives all the way out in friggin' Indiana. He's young, late twenties - but displays a perspicacity in regards to relationships and humans and life in general which belies his actual years of experience and spurs on many in-depth conversations about our individual journeys and our personal philosophies. Frances gives me the hairy eyeball each time I endeavor to rationalize my far-fetched excuses for galvanizing this bond with Brennan. She cannot comprehend why I pour so much energy, time and attention on a person who makes no sense for me age-wise nor geographically, when I should be cultivating a relationship with someone more sensible, like with Steve or Stuart, say. I do believe there is value in the fact that I sincerely enjoy his company though, 650 miles between us and all. Bottom line...I love to talk to him. He is so damned sweet to me, I can literally feel his affection like a real caress, through the tender way that he speaks to me, and astonishingly, we've always kept things proper. That is until Thursday, the day before my date with Jack. Brennan had the day off from work and I am, as you are well aware, indefinitely laid off, so we luxuriously wiled away several hours, daydreaming about how nice it would be if we could cuddle up on the couch at one of our houses and shrug off the damp cold with hot tea and mushroom soup and a movie and tootsie rubs...I had no warning that he would go there, but outta the blue he asked if I had any idea what I was doing to him. Not fully certain of what he was implying, I said that I did not and he asked if I wanted to see...The hair on the back of my neck and the base of my scalp bristled and a hot wave of anticipation tore down my middle, ah ha! Now I knew what he was talking about. I accepted his generous offer to show me what he meant, curiosity had gotten the naughtier of me. He hooked up his webcam without asking me to turn mine on and lo and behold! There he was, as three dimensional as I'll probably ever get to see him...his fabulous body - naked on his bed, thin but athletic, with just the right amount of hair and tattoos. And don't even get me started on his face...doe-like, haunting, green eyes, nose like an arrow, full, berry-stained lips and an angular chin with a dimple in the middle. He is extraordinarily good-looking. Needless to say I was beyond pleased with everything I saw, and then I felt the blood drain from most everywhere in my body and pool into one singular spot...Christ on the cross - Brennan's was a most prodigious pole, he put "Propel" bottle to shame! I beamed over his enormous compliment and after picking my jaw up off of the floor and setting it on my desk for the time being, I did my best to return the favor by typing an inspired stream of consciousness about what would be happening if I was right there with him, skin to skin. He did it, he took my little tale and ran with it - all the way home. I nearly did as well, just sitting there in my desk chair fully-clothed, never having even touched myself. This unexpected episode was titanic, to say the least. I think what I liked the most was how Brennan did not hurry off post-eruption, the way every single other guy has done before him. He was content to keep visiting with me, messy tummy and all, it made me like him in triplicate. I now believed that the kindness he had consistently demonstrated towards me was bona fide. It was I who eventually ended our conversation, I needed victuals, something fierce, so we bade our bittersweet farewells and set about to feed our faces.

I still didn't make it to the kitchen...literally the instant I hung up with Brennan, I got an e-mail from Jack asking me if I'd finished myself off the night before following our second libidinous telephone jaunt. I assured him that I had but not until the next morning, yet there I was, poised to go at it again as soon as I was nourished. He had no inkling that this was because of my torrid rendez-vous with Brennan. There isn't any harm in him assuming that my current condition was residual from our own spicy interlude the prior evening, is there?