Linda is my lover. She is a couple of years older than I am, and she has had a much more difficult and harsh life than mine. We are as different as our lives have been, but she is the most genuine, sweet person I have ever known. There is no pretence in her. She is simply a gentle, loving woman.
I have heard her stories - usually well seasoned with humour - of being one of eight hungry children, of a depressed mother, an alcoholic father and a stoic grandmother. Tales of life lived with the nuns, things that she and her sister did when they were growing feral around Albert Park in the 1960s. A story she told me yesterday of her first love broke my heart.
I think I may have known Jayne. She was at Lowther Hall in 1974 when I was there, and I believe that she was my friend. We were 12 or 13. I didn't stay in touch with anyone from that school when my family moved out of Victoria. But by the late 1970s or early 1980s Jayne was an impressive lesbian artist, in a band, attractive, charasmatic and popular. And she was Linda's first serious love.
Like most alternative creative people of her time Jayne experimented with drugs. She smoked dope, dropped tabs and mainlined speed and heroin. Linda was always a quiet woman, shy and retiring by nature. Being swept up into the circle of the 'interesting' people, and being the lover of the sparkling Jayne must have been a heady mix for Linda at 20. They had a room in a share house that was well-known in the lesbian community as the place for drugs. When the police finally raided the house, Linda was the only person without tracks. I knew this story. I had heard it before, and so I thought she had only smoked or taken tabs.
So when she told me that yes, she had mainlined - twice - I was shocked to my core. She just didn't seem to be the 'experimental' type. All her young exploits had been choreographed by her sister, she just went along for the ride; the picture of her choosing to try such a thing was so out of character... I had serious trouble aligning this idea with the woman in my arms. It didn't fit. She went on to explain that she just wanted to be part of the group - drawn up by Jayne, wanting to be like her. But she couldn't inject herself.
So Jayne did it for her. She just held out her arm and a needle (was it clean? was it new? who cut the drugs? was the water sterile?) broke her skin, punctured her vein. Her blood flowing back into the syringe, mixing with the drug, and then forced into her virgin vein.
The image of my Linda acquiescing to that violation - by someone she trusted and loved - hurts me for reasons I can't clearly explain. Even though it was over 25 years ago, I ache to think of my love betrayed like that. Hurt by someone who thought it was nothing more than a good time.
She's lucky - I'm lucky - that she chose to leave the house and Jayne, and walk away from the interesting people. But I still see my lover, my gentle, trusting lover wanting to be in Jayne's world, and offering her own blood in exchange for a part of it.
Monday, 22 October 2007
Wednesday, 17 October 2007
Genesis
Well, it's a beginning, so it's a genesis - but I'm nervous of being misunderstood. The title of my blog is 'Still Evolving' because I am. I'm a very different creature now than I was even three years ago ...two and a half years ago...one year. So it's only a genesis of sorts - I'm now an identifiably different species, but my evolutionary path is pretty clear to anyone who chooses to look.
Farne isn't my name, it's my Avatar's name on Second Life. I spent alot of time choosing that name, and I like it, so that's what I'm running with. The name comes from Lindisfarne - known as Holy Island - off the North English coast. I was there last March, and I'd like to visit again one day.
I used to be married, and I've got two kids. My son is 20, is working, and has now moved out of home. He worries me 'cos he rides a motorbike, and like a lot of young men, his confidence in his abilities far outstrips any objective assessment of them. He's a good kid, and I hope he can continue to grow and develop, and keep showing the resiliance that has brought him safe thus far. Well, fairly safe, anyway.
My daughter is 18, and works, too. Next year she wants to study again after leaving school 2 years ago. She wants to be a stage manager. Since her father left she has bloomed, and I'm beginning to believe that she can realise her ambition.
I was married for 20-something years. My husband suffered from major depression for at least the last 15. Finally he left because he said he could no longer live with the kids. I never left him, or even asked him to leave when things were bad because I thought that if he'd had cancer, or diabetes or something, I wouldn't leave just because times were hard. It was the wrong thing to do. I should have left, and taken the kids. They had a much harder life than was needed. Sadly, it's easy to see all that in retrospect, but I couldn't do it to him at the time.
When he left all I felt was relief. I was rather surprised to find that I didn't actually love him, he was a habit. I do care about him, and I wish him well. But, without him I am a better person, a happier person, and I'm not sure that if me-minus-3years met me-today that I'd recognise myself.
I'm earning about 40% more, I have a lesbian lover, my house has had all the work it needs finally done (except painting the fence - that's on the list for next weekend), and I'm happy. My heart is at peace. Next I sell the house and divide the money with the ex. Then I buy a new house, and the transition from 'married' to 'me' is over. I think.
Cheers
Farne isn't my name, it's my Avatar's name on Second Life. I spent alot of time choosing that name, and I like it, so that's what I'm running with. The name comes from Lindisfarne - known as Holy Island - off the North English coast. I was there last March, and I'd like to visit again one day.
I used to be married, and I've got two kids. My son is 20, is working, and has now moved out of home. He worries me 'cos he rides a motorbike, and like a lot of young men, his confidence in his abilities far outstrips any objective assessment of them. He's a good kid, and I hope he can continue to grow and develop, and keep showing the resiliance that has brought him safe thus far. Well, fairly safe, anyway.
My daughter is 18, and works, too. Next year she wants to study again after leaving school 2 years ago. She wants to be a stage manager. Since her father left she has bloomed, and I'm beginning to believe that she can realise her ambition.
I was married for 20-something years. My husband suffered from major depression for at least the last 15. Finally he left because he said he could no longer live with the kids. I never left him, or even asked him to leave when things were bad because I thought that if he'd had cancer, or diabetes or something, I wouldn't leave just because times were hard. It was the wrong thing to do. I should have left, and taken the kids. They had a much harder life than was needed. Sadly, it's easy to see all that in retrospect, but I couldn't do it to him at the time.
When he left all I felt was relief. I was rather surprised to find that I didn't actually love him, he was a habit. I do care about him, and I wish him well. But, without him I am a better person, a happier person, and I'm not sure that if me-minus-3years met me-today that I'd recognise myself.
I'm earning about 40% more, I have a lesbian lover, my house has had all the work it needs finally done (except painting the fence - that's on the list for next weekend), and I'm happy. My heart is at peace. Next I sell the house and divide the money with the ex. Then I buy a new house, and the transition from 'married' to 'me' is over. I think.
Cheers
Monday, 26 February 2007
About 65 hours to go ...
I should be ecstatically excited, and in alot of ways I am, but ... I've only just found her, I am still in the heat of the new love thing, and I don't want to be away from her for 6 weeks (give or take a couple of days).
Friday after work I went home and spent some time with Sarah, then I had dinner with Linda, and THEN ... we went for a drive and had fantastic sex in a park near the Yarra River, Clifton Hill-ish. We were only there an hour, but it was very, very good. Then to a cafe in Fairfield for coffee, then back to her place for the night. And it was a truly memorable night: we had chocolate body paint, and neither of us felt much like sleeping. I think we probably got something in the vicinity of 3-4 hours. That was OK for me - I was going home to wash, iron and start packing (and making the daughter feel that I haven't abandoned her). But L was working Saturday morning, and it was pretty harsh on her.
Saturday evening we met up again a friends house - unfortunately C was terribly drunk and not making much sense. Her partner was trying hard to keep it light, but she was a bit morose and just a tad too full of self-pity for relaxed chats. We didn't stay too long, 'cos we had plans to go to see a jazz swing band at the old firehouse cafe in High St. We had a very cosy spot just in the door, but it was quite discreet, and we sat and enjoyed 'Frankie Wants Out', and each other's company. The new-love-thing, again, I think... Then back to her place again, and this time we had energy, lust, chocolate body paint and a 'massager'. Which we didn't deploy until Sunday, but it was ... there ... lurking. And she did like it when it was eventually put to use. On the downside, all that chocolate has put a couple of new pimples on me. And I don't care!
Friday after work I went home and spent some time with Sarah, then I had dinner with Linda, and THEN ... we went for a drive and had fantastic sex in a park near the Yarra River, Clifton Hill-ish. We were only there an hour, but it was very, very good. Then to a cafe in Fairfield for coffee, then back to her place for the night. And it was a truly memorable night: we had chocolate body paint, and neither of us felt much like sleeping. I think we probably got something in the vicinity of 3-4 hours. That was OK for me - I was going home to wash, iron and start packing (and making the daughter feel that I haven't abandoned her). But L was working Saturday morning, and it was pretty harsh on her.
Saturday evening we met up again a friends house - unfortunately C was terribly drunk and not making much sense. Her partner was trying hard to keep it light, but she was a bit morose and just a tad too full of self-pity for relaxed chats. We didn't stay too long, 'cos we had plans to go to see a jazz swing band at the old firehouse cafe in High St. We had a very cosy spot just in the door, but it was quite discreet, and we sat and enjoyed 'Frankie Wants Out', and each other's company. The new-love-thing, again, I think... Then back to her place again, and this time we had energy, lust, chocolate body paint and a 'massager'. Which we didn't deploy until Sunday, but it was ... there ... lurking. And she did like it when it was eventually put to use. On the downside, all that chocolate has put a couple of new pimples on me. And I don't care!
Friday, 23 February 2007
Friday afternoon - the weekend is coming
I love my weekends at the moment ... I spend Friday and Saturday nights with my new woman, and most of the days, too. Just at the moment, when I'm only days away from a 6 week trip to the UK, we are spending every moment we can find together. It's so intense, and indescribably(?spelling) wonderful. And the sex!! Making love with her is the most fantastic thing that has ever happened to me. I have a fairly active imagination, and had a pretty good repertoire of sexual fantasies before I met her, and I hadn't even imagined the intensity and power of the orgasms I'm now getting... and I can't get enough! I feel like a nymphomaniac. I have been behaving out of character - sending her 'naughty' sms messages, thinking about her almost obsessively, can't concentrate at work ... and so on. I'm hoping that it's just new love, and soon the more extreme elements will burn down a bit. I love the intensity at the moment, but I am having no end of trouble functioning!
Monday, 22 January 2007
Am I falling in love with her....?
I'm tired again. I feel as though I have been continuously tired since about May 2005. But this time … this time it's different; it's 'good' tired. It's that woman I met on New Year's Eve at SheBar. When we are together she can't keep her hands off me (it is SO good), and when we are alone she can't keep her mouth off me… I am buzzing, my soul, my body and my mind are full of the sensations of her.
I can't remember feeling desire as intense as this. I want to touch and taste her: I am lusting for her, and I get a fantastic high from pleasing her. Then she goes down on me. I have never before been with anyone who is also the object of my fantasies. And she exceeds them. When I am with her my mind is just wiped. I couldn't think about other things even if I wanted to.
She makes me feel desirable, beautiful (gorgeous, even), and puts my mind at peace. That is an amazing thing. I don't have to think about how to respond, how much longer this is going on, or anything really. I can't think about anything but her when we are together. And last night was a case in point. My mind was exhausted, I even thought about not seeing her because I was so tired. But I did. And I'm glad I did. All the angst and pain of the afternoon (spent wrestling money with my husband ... from whom I am thoroughly separated) vanished – evaporated away. My mind was left wonderfully rested and calm. There was just her body and her sweet self, kissing me, talking to me, holding me, responding to me. I was so focussed, so absolutely there in the moment. There was no past, no future, just the present, each moment a perfect one.
She is so easy to be with. Completely undemanding: I don't have to 'be' anyone, or anything. She just wants me there with her. I don't have to do anything to please her beyond what I want to do, the things that my own lust is driving. I don't have to think about how to behave or act. My behaviour and my responses come straight from how I feel about her, and what we are doing at the time. It's like being transported to another universe where the sexual rules I've lived under no longer exist. I'm re-learning everything from the beginning.
When my mouth is on her I feel awkward – I'm still working out how to angle my head, handle her, move her about, and my tongue needs to … umm… toughen up, or at least get fitter. When my hands and fingers are on her I feel clumsy – I 'lose' her clitoris when she moves and I worry that I'm not doing things properly. But she doesn't seem to mind that I'm inexperienced. She makes me feel that whatever I'm doing is at least making her feel good. She likes to kiss me.
So I'm tired. I'm tired because it was about 12.15am when I got home last night, then it took me a while to go to sleep. Not because I had to unwind, but because I didn't want to stop thinking about her, and sleep requires that of me. All I wanted was to re-live her mouth and body. Over, and over, and over, again. It must have been around 1.30 when I finally went to sleep, and then I was woken by the alarm at about 6am. I've done this a few times lately, and now I'm paying for it. I don't care. If I had yesterday to live again, I would do the same. Well, maybe I'd suggest going upstairs earlier … but that would be to get more time, not to finish earlier.
I may be falling in love with her. I don't actually know. I haven't felt like this before. It wasn't like this with my husband: much less intense and more driven by his desire for me. I didn't even realise I could feel this intensity of emotion and lust. So maybe I'm just (finally) working out what sex can feel like. Maybe I'm confusing love with gratitude. Or perhaps it is love, but on a whole new level that I didn't know was out there. In the end, I don't care what it is, it is enough to feel it, and have the desire reciprocated. She doesn't have to love me – as long as she doesn't despise me for my feelings.
Right now I don't even care if it all fades in a couple of weeks. It will still have been one of the most incredible, intense, times of my life, and I will be forever grateful to her for everything she has shared with me.
I can't remember feeling desire as intense as this. I want to touch and taste her: I am lusting for her, and I get a fantastic high from pleasing her. Then she goes down on me. I have never before been with anyone who is also the object of my fantasies. And she exceeds them. When I am with her my mind is just wiped. I couldn't think about other things even if I wanted to.
She makes me feel desirable, beautiful (gorgeous, even), and puts my mind at peace. That is an amazing thing. I don't have to think about how to respond, how much longer this is going on, or anything really. I can't think about anything but her when we are together. And last night was a case in point. My mind was exhausted, I even thought about not seeing her because I was so tired. But I did. And I'm glad I did. All the angst and pain of the afternoon (spent wrestling money with my husband ... from whom I am thoroughly separated) vanished – evaporated away. My mind was left wonderfully rested and calm. There was just her body and her sweet self, kissing me, talking to me, holding me, responding to me. I was so focussed, so absolutely there in the moment. There was no past, no future, just the present, each moment a perfect one.
She is so easy to be with. Completely undemanding: I don't have to 'be' anyone, or anything. She just wants me there with her. I don't have to do anything to please her beyond what I want to do, the things that my own lust is driving. I don't have to think about how to behave or act. My behaviour and my responses come straight from how I feel about her, and what we are doing at the time. It's like being transported to another universe where the sexual rules I've lived under no longer exist. I'm re-learning everything from the beginning.
When my mouth is on her I feel awkward – I'm still working out how to angle my head, handle her, move her about, and my tongue needs to … umm… toughen up, or at least get fitter. When my hands and fingers are on her I feel clumsy – I 'lose' her clitoris when she moves and I worry that I'm not doing things properly. But she doesn't seem to mind that I'm inexperienced. She makes me feel that whatever I'm doing is at least making her feel good. She likes to kiss me.
So I'm tired. I'm tired because it was about 12.15am when I got home last night, then it took me a while to go to sleep. Not because I had to unwind, but because I didn't want to stop thinking about her, and sleep requires that of me. All I wanted was to re-live her mouth and body. Over, and over, and over, again. It must have been around 1.30 when I finally went to sleep, and then I was woken by the alarm at about 6am. I've done this a few times lately, and now I'm paying for it. I don't care. If I had yesterday to live again, I would do the same. Well, maybe I'd suggest going upstairs earlier … but that would be to get more time, not to finish earlier.
I may be falling in love with her. I don't actually know. I haven't felt like this before. It wasn't like this with my husband: much less intense and more driven by his desire for me. I didn't even realise I could feel this intensity of emotion and lust. So maybe I'm just (finally) working out what sex can feel like. Maybe I'm confusing love with gratitude. Or perhaps it is love, but on a whole new level that I didn't know was out there. In the end, I don't care what it is, it is enough to feel it, and have the desire reciprocated. She doesn't have to love me – as long as she doesn't despise me for my feelings.
Right now I don't even care if it all fades in a couple of weeks. It will still have been one of the most incredible, intense, times of my life, and I will be forever grateful to her for everything she has shared with me.
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