Interpretation

The avoidance marathon continues.

Sam’s got it down to an art form.

After giving up around 3am due to falling asleep on the sofa, I crawled into bed only to be awakened to sounds of him rummaging around in the kitchen a little after 4am.  Too exhausted to deal with his shenanigans, I went to the bathroom, turned off my light and proceeded to listen as he idled restlessly about in the room next to mine.

There was so much activity in fact, that I started to wonder if he brought company.

I still might discover some this morning – so – fingers crossed…

But when I finally drifted off to sleep this morning again at nearly 5am, I had some strangely linked dreams that included a rather steamy lesbian sex scene in one.

I had found myself at some sort of Summer Stock actor’s camp – or at least that what it seemed to be.

It seemed like there were a few different ‘teams’ of actors (we would actually call them troupes in real life, but this was after all a dream.)  We competed in weird camp-style and Survivor-style games and then got show and casting assignments at the end of the games.  Even though I am an actress in real life, in the dream I was just filling in temporarily for one of my old friends – who coincidentally is NOT really and actress…

But in one part of the dream, I found myself in a bath tub with two other women.  The one woman was the HBIC – or Head Bitch in Charge of the whole camp.  In my dream she had been sort of bullying the other woman in the tub, a slightly more reserved and much less confident woman in a rival acting troupe.  The HBIC was naked as the tub was filling up.  A handful of people from the team I was playing on sat on the other side of the ‘bathroom’ spectating – sort of…  The shower curtains were closed, but ironically they had an opening in the middle like stage curtains would.

“Be sure to fill it all the way to the top!’ they hollered as I stepped into the tub and behind the curtains.

Seeing the HBIC naked I assumed this was a primitive bathing situation where we had to share baths because it was camp.  I stripped down too.  The other girl (I’m not making up names for random chicks in my dreams that I’ve never seen before!) was in a swimsuit and looked rather uncomfortable.

As the water rose higher the HBIC stepped out.  I don’t remember what she said, but it seemed like it was sexually derogatory to the other woman.

“All right,” an unseen voice from somewhere around the tub coaxed.  “Give it a go then.”

I looked at the other woman for some sort of guidance.  She just stared back at me nervously.

“Kiss her,” someone jeered.

Then I guess I just assumed that this was another camp competition.  We were all actors after all.  I started making out with the chick in the tub.  She was terrified and trembling, but she didn’t fight it.  Needless to say, I did wind up doing pretty much all the work until her sexual identity was thoroughly shattered to the point that she got out of the tub.

Did I win immunity?

The HBIC who had been watching in close proximity the whole time mumbled something about wanting to be next contender and I shrugged, got out of the tub and dried off and in true Inception style jumped to the next scene where we were all somewhere else and fully clothed.

I don’t remember much else as vividly.  Although it seems like I did keep asking if I would be getting paid and asking if I would be getting cast in any of my team’s shows.

So does that make me a thespian lesbian?

Was my dream urging me to audition for more theater, get cast on a reality TV show, begin a career in lesbian porn or just switch teams for a while so I don’t have to put up with bullshit from guys like Sam?

This was not the first ‘lesbian erotic’ dream I’ve had.  And as one might have guessed from earlier mentions in my blog, my sexual encounters with women have not been limited to steamy bathroom scenes in my dreams.

I don’t really feel like going into all the dynamics of what led me to same-sex sexual experimentation at this moment, but I feel like I can say with some certainty that I’m not really gay.  I don’t even think I qualify as bi.  In my mind, a person who is truly bisexual would be open to a committed relationship with both members of the opposite sex ala Callie and George or members of the same sex ala Callie and Arizona.

Motorboats, strip clubs, threesomes and hookups aside, I can’t ever envision being in a relationship with another woman – unless it was a Big Love sort of affair in which there was a man involved.

And how f-ed up does it make me that I think I might be down for a polygamist relationship if there was at least another wife or two that was hot and also ‘played’ with girls?

But that’s fodder for a whole different blog right there;-)

I think I fantasize about male exclusionary relationships with women at times like these just because my heart is so over this shit.  But in my brain I know women can be just as bad if not worse.  And I have a very unsettling fear that I would probably treat women just as badly as any guy has ever treated me if I tried to be in a relationship with one.

You see, it’s undiagnosed, but I believe that I am a Dick Addict.  I suffer from Penile Dependancey. A Cock Compulsion…

Call it what you will.  It just seems to indicate that steamy bathtub dreams are just a fairytale escape from an all-to0 phallic reality…

The good news – for guys at least – Reality blows…

Intuition

Uhg…

So I guess I need to give just a touch of back story sooner than I’d anticipated.

You see, Sam and I almost hooked up about a month ago – make that an even 28 days ago.

When he first moved in he had a girlfriend – lets call her Suzy (and you WILL hear more about her in the future as well) who really wasn’t a good match for him, but she was excessively hot.  I will give her that.  And she has an AMAZING rack.  Perhaps my deepest regret about her is that I never took advantage of any of the times she was recklessly drunk around me to motorboat the hell out of those titties.

After about a month or so though, things headed south for Sam and Suzy and they broke up.  And then he and I started spending a little more time together.

Although Sam just moved in with me in March, we’ve been friends for a number of years now through our performing group and mutual acquaintances.  So although I never really entertained the idea of either a romantic or a physical relationship with him, I’ve liked him in that easy, breezy, platonic way for a while now.

So on that night in Mid-May when we stayed up all night talking and he was showing me old year-book photos of some of our mutual friends and telling me stories about them that had me gasping for air laughing, I was more than a little surprised when he very seriously asked me if it would “be weird’ if he kissed me.

“I don’t know.”

I really didn’t.  After slightly more discussion it was agreed that there was only one way to find out.

It was several things, but – at least for me – weird wasn’t one of them.

After a little bit of making out, we parted ways into our respective bedrooms and I woke up feeling surprisingly chipper and not weird at all.

It wasn’t until later the following evening that I got up the nerve to ask him what his ‘intentions’ were.

He was blunt.

He wasn’t ‘interested.’  He thought I was hot and felt there was a good deal of sexual tension/chemistry between us, but he didn’t ‘like’ me like that.  In fact there were a couple girls he did ‘like’ but nothing was going on with any of them at the moment. Soooo…?

I was torn.

Half of me was relieved, because as nice as it was to have Sam express interest out of the blue, the other half really wasn’t sure how I felt about him.  And so I was glad that he wasn’t about to pressure me for a relationship or commitment.  However, a little nagging insecure voice in the back of my head that was still trying desperately to get over my most recent heart-break squeaked in my ear, “But why DOESN’T he like you?  What’s wrong with you?  Why doesn’t anyone seem to actually like you?”

I yelled at the voice telling it to shut the fuck up.

Sam could be a distraction and that’s about all I really wanted him for anyway.  Something to get my mind off of a memory that just kept resurfacing with every stupid text from an asshole that just didn’t…

But that’s another story.

I told Sam I’d be happy to rock his world.  In about 4 more days.

I had my period and even though Sam assured me it was no big deal, I’m a little old-fashioned about a few things.  One of those being, the only way I’m putting a guy (and myself) through the embarrassment of period sex is if we’re already in a relationship.

We had a particularly steamy make-out session Thursday night.  Friday our schedules didn’t line up very well, so I really only saw him in passing until I left Saturday for a friend’s wedding out of town.  But I told him I’d be back and ‘in the clear’ Sunday night.

He did not come home Sunday night.  Monday he pretty much dodged me all day too.

Yep, it was late Monday night – or maybe Tuesday even that he came home saying how exhausted he was from work, wasn’t even going to shower, going straight to bed, good night…

And I realized he was blowing me off.

A couple hours later, I was still awake, and pretty pissed and hurt because I realized what was going on, when he ‘woke up’ and came to my room and confided in me that he’d gone on a date while I was out of town and this was with one of the chicks he ‘liked’ and he was going to see her again, and he thought he’d better tell me because he didn’t want to be douche and fuck me and then tell me a day or two later that he was seeing someone when he knew it was already heading in that direction.

Let’s call this new girl Reggie.

The thing that surprised me the most in the next couple of days was just how devastated this whole thing made me.

Granted there were other factors which I’ll embellish upon down the road, but the deal is, if he’d never kissed me, if we’d never had that conversation, if he never told me he wanted to get into my pants, I would have been fine.  I would have been MORE than fine.

I didn’t ‘like’ him or want a relationship with him, or even particularly want to fuck him.

But he showed interest and I kinda needed that at that moment and it really did feel good and I had just enough time to get used to the idea of having this fun little short-term secret fling while we’re playing house together and I decided it would be really nice.  Only, I didn’t get the chance.

I made it though an excruciatingly depressing week and then I left town for a week long family reunion.

When I got back the dust had settled and everything felt more or less normal between us again.

Last week we even went to see a movie together.

Then Monday night I came home from a night out with our friends remembering why I’ve been feeling so rejected and alone lately and I was just about to go to bed and hide my stupid girl tears when he got home and told me he and Reggie had just broken it off that night.

I felt bad for him.  I felt ashamed for feeling so sorry for myself when he really had an actual reason to be bummed out.  I wanted to make him feel better.  I sat close to him on the sofa.  I let him put his arm around me – maybe even encouraged it a bit and before you know it…

Fast forward to last night.

The string of texts asking me to bring his clothes to the show and one thing that I hadn’t planned on – Reggie showing up at the end of the show.

Monday night, he told me that Reggie had told him she probably wouldn’t come to shows for a little while.  He told me that he’d encouraged her against that decision.  But last night, there she was.  They didn’t really seem to talk or interact.  I said something to him and he kind of ignored it.

And then he came home tonight – ‘exhausted.’  More bravado about how he didn’t even want to shower, he was just going to drink his beer in his room and go to bed.

And a couple hours later as I was cleaning shit up in the kitchen, it hit me like a Mack Truck.

He’s giving it another chance.  Somewhere between me leaving for my Tuesday afternoon appointment and seeing him at the show Tuesday night, they’d had a ‘talk.’

And instead of just coming out and telling me the son-of-a-bitch is playing it off by avoiding me instead.

Whatever.

My period started again today anyway.  It’s two days early.  But obviously it doesn’t matter.

No more ‘hush hush nookie’ for me.

Not with Sam anyway.

And no – I don’t think I’m jumping to conclusions.  I believe it was Jewel who called it – Intuition…