It was so clear, it cut like glass. Just Sex, Nothing Else. At least theoretically. Needless to say, it deviated in practice. It usually does when you genuinely care for each other.
But as it turns out, B ends up taking me on various dates where there is little doubt from anyone on the outside looking in, that we are in fact, Seeing Each Other. Not hanging out. Not booty calling. Would you sweetly kiss your booty call on the head like they were a child, suggest a couples' dinner and introduce them to your friends? All of which B did.
At one point during an evening out at a soccer game, a professional photographer asks if he could take pictures of us for the stadium website. "So, you know, people know it's a good place to take your woman for a date," he explains grinning widely. B looms over me, flashes a dazzlingly symmetrical Libran smile and clutches me with such a force my feet come off the ground. We smile obligingly, all charm for the paparazzi.
But inside, I was like that Double Rainbow guy sobbing in half-wonder going, "OMG, What Does It Meaaan??"
There are expectations of course in relationships doing a repeat/return, that things are vastly different from how they were before. That suddenly there would be a gushing connection, maybe all consuming conversations held long through the night. Some new shared passion we didn't realize we had before, like me morphing into a metal head like B, or B actually asking me thoughtful metaphysical questions all leading to the meaning of life. None of that happened.
Once, his roommate called me to complain that B wasn't responding to his texts and I had to explain to the poor guy who happens to be a Virgo Engineer, that turn-around response times for us with Mercury Anything don't apply to the likes of B. "But what am I supposed to tell the landlord," the VE whined. "Tell him that B works in a highly secure area where they're not allowed comms with the outside world till they leave," I suggested. He actually doesn't, but might as well.
B, for that matter started to say and do things which made it evident that despite his lack of words, he'd been listening to me all this time. And watching very closely. If in the greater scheme of things, it's with reluctance that I matter to him, for the times we're together, that doubt isn't in much evidence. At least, not until he would try to blunt the blow of a poignantly tender goodbye by saying something coyly stupid like, La-ter Crack-er.
I think we both just..relaxed and trusted each other more. A year can do that for you.
THIS was like finally knowing what the hell to do with it and going into a Rachmaninoff concerto. Everything was amplified, and there were simply things no longer there to be cautious about. No more Sewer prompted nightmares to keep me up at night. No more doubt for B that I wanted him - not after he threw an unholy tantrum when I wasn't free and I'd pointed out there'd never been a time I refused to see him as long as he asked me early enough.
Maybe time and familiarity simply gave us more confidence, and our bodies certainly confided, saying you want this now, here, that a little later. I was grateful for all the wordless belonging.
Carmen San Diego was supportive, yet tentative,"It's GREAT he's back, baby, just be careful," she reminded then tut-tutting, "I don't want you getting clobbered again." She wasn't off base at all. Yeah, I worried about getting "clobbered" again, but I felt it wasn't ready to be defined. B after all, is a double Libra. Sun and Moon alike. That pendulum will swing back and forth before it rests at a point that makes sense.
I just thought she was talking about how absurdly stubborn I was being about the brand of pop I liked to drink. You can't know in youth, what you can only learn by getting wounded by. Still, B's boat is uncharted and better taken without a specific destination in mind. I find it simpler to think this way, if I don't what results is an obsessive pondering about what HE's not doing, or being, or saying. Or what he MIGHT.
It would be easy to forget the parts that are really just all about ME. In the search for a handy conclusion. I am after all, the only thing I can control and even then, I'm usually only successful about half the time.