I realize that my blog is supposed to be about dating, love, sex and relationships – but even though that subject may be something I think about a great deal of the time, it (surprise) isn’t all that I think about. I think I’m going to take some liberties here (not that I never had these liberties) and write about whatever else is on my mind. I realized that the reason behind why I don’t update my blog religiously is the fact that I don’t always have something to say about love and relationships. Perhaps that’d make me a bad writer for a magazine, say, but this is just my blog, so I’m going to take advantage of the fact that I can do whatever I want.

It’s a foggy day out in San Francisco and Berkeley (I am in Berkeley at work, and can see the city from my window), and my crazy boss isn’t here. I could not be happier. That woman stresses me out. Just seeing her face brings my pulse up a couple hundred notches. She may think her presence here is good for productivity, but the fact remains that I get SO much more work done when she’s not around to raise my blood pressure. I am so glad she’s not here.

Anyway, on more of a romance note, I was recently introduced to this song by Jon Brion – Little Person. It’s got a melancholic feel, but at the same time, is strangely hopeful and beautiful. So for all of you out there searching for that other little person- this goes out to you.

It’s 5:30AM, and I’m incredibly sleepy. I’m awake for no reason in particular – other than the fact that I’m enjoying my holiday by doing something that you definitely can’t do when you’re on your regular 8-5 work schedule. I’m staying up and writing a WordPress entry.

I’ve been with my girlfriend for about three months now. Not very long, but it certainly feels like we’ve been dating for longer.  I’ve never been so happy in such a mature, adult way. I suppose my past relationships have prepared me for this point in my life, where I can love someone in a way that isn’t immature, and feels positively amazing.

Sometimes I wonder if she’ll be mine forever. At this point, I love her so much that I can’t imagine anything else. She’s gorgeous…everything about her takes my breath away. She’s thoughtful, she’s playful, she’s passionate, she’s driven, she’s intelligent and she makes my heart melt. I admire her, respect her and adore her all at the same time. Just hearing her voice makes me giddy. I love her for all her thoughts, her love for her friends, the way she loves to cook, the way she hates having too many “things,” the way she loves travel, how she is always trying to practice Spanish, and for how much she loves her father.

Sometimes, when I look at her, I think to myself about how lucky I am that she’s mine. Sometimes she looks so beautiful and radiant from across a room that it feels almost unreal that I’m the girl she thinks about at night. I will never forget taking her to the airport at 4 in the morning, and snuggling with her in the car in the parking lot. I’ll never forget walking her through the airport and having breakfast with her in the terminal. Kissing her goodbye. She’s mine…all mine, and I couldn’t be more proud to say that she’s my girl.

The other day, I sat next to her as she played peek-a-boo with a little girl sitting at a table across from us. She looked so happy, so silly, and at the same time, so  beautiful. I don’t know why, but I fell completely in love with her after seeing her play with the little girl. I couldn’t stop laughing – not because the situation was funny, but because of how happy seeing her like that made me feel. I thought of her as a mother, and I thought of being there with her through that. She would be the most amazing mother in the world. I wouldn’t mind having kids if I got to see her so happy every day. God she melts my heart…

Come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love…

She is amazing. Every day I spend with her makes me fall harder and harder for her. Every little thing I learn about her as the days pass makes me respect and love her more. I feel so safe and warm whenever I am with her, and I feel absolutely happy and content in all our time together – regardless of what we’re doing.

At this point, I’ve let go of all bungee lines and torn apart all safety nets, and I am happier than ever. Just holding her hand makes me feel like the happiest woman alive. Sitting in the car with her, holding hands even while she dozes off as I drive is the best feeling in the world. I don’t think she knows it, but as we talk in the car, butterflies are rushing up and down my body, and my heart feels weak and proud because I know that she’s mine. I don’t think she knows, but when we are together, sometimes I feel so much love for her that it’s hard to contain it.

I remember holding her in my arms as we woke up this morning. I remembered that it was the morning of the one month mark of when we decided to become exclusive. I remember kissing her, pulling her close, seeing her smile and kiss me, and feeling overwhelmed with a hurricane of dizzying emotions. We lay there, snuggled close, and she reached up to stretch, smiling happily. She was the cutest thing in the world.

One of my favorite memories: Cuddling in bed, with her arms around me, holding me close. Listening to “The Nearness of You” by Norah Jones…feeling every word. Feeling her squeeze and kiss me gently at the end of the song. Feeling safe, feeling warm…smiling…falling asleep.

It’s probably too soon to feel this way.

All I know is that I can’t wait for the day when I’ll tell her that I’m falling for her….

(…that I love her?)

I am so happy. I think her lap is my favorite place in the whole world.

I have the toothbrush head. What does this mean? Well, if you’ve seen any Sex and the City episodes, you might know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the scene in the series where Carrie scores one of the attachable heads on Big’s electronic toothbrush at his place. She gets the pink tip, and he keeps the blue one. When you receive the toothbrush head, it’s a sign of moving forward. You have a large enough place in someone’s heart and life that you are worthy of keeping one of his or her toothbrushes at his or her place. There can only be two toothbrush heads. One pink and one blue one, or a pink and a pink or a blue and a blue one depending on your preference.

When she told me I could keep one of the toothbrush attachments at her place for use in her home, I was thrilled. Of course I kept my feelings of delight inside. “Thanks,” I said, feigning nonchalance. My heart was dancing in dizzying circles in my chest.

We’ve been spending a great amount of time together lately. Since I last posted, I’ve met her friends at a backyard pool party, and have stayed at her place countless times. It feels like we are together. At this point, we probably are, but we haven’t talked about it quite yet. Nonetheless, it feels amazing.

It feels amazing to walk down the street with her hand in mine, and it feels amazing to feel her arms around me when we stand on the escalator in the BART station. It feels amazing to have several of her clothing items at my place still, and it feels amazing that I left my earrings, BART ticket and some DVDs at her place. It’s like part of me is hers, and part of her is mine.

“If I left anything at your place, just let me know,” I say.

“Yeah, because you’ll <i>never</i> see them again,” she jokes.

I love waking up with her arms around me, and I love feeling her kisses on my neck and shoulders. I love the way she sighs and giggles into the side of my neck as she holds me in bed. I want to be with her all the time, and I’ve never felt this way before. She is a constant song that I can’t get out of my mind.

Her laughter is like music on a sunny day in the park. Her goodnight texts are the perfect way to end a long day. I don’t care if I get hurt. I can tell that she’s worth it.

One minute, her hand is on your back, stroking your side. One minute, her lips are on yours, and you are lost in what feels like the happiest moment of your life. The next moment, she’s in her khakis, she’s got an adorable button down shirt on, and she’s kissing you goodbye. She smells like flowers and love and…beautiful girl. She kisses you and she smiles. Your heart melts, and you think about how lucky you are to have her in your arms. She climbs into bed with you and holds you close, and you breathe her in. You feel soft, tender kisses trail up your neck and over your eyelids. You smile.

She’ll be gone for two weeks come tomorrow. You leave her a book to read on the trip, hoping she will remember you. The next two weeks will be hard. She picks up her things, and takes everything with her. Her kisses, her smile, her love, and most important of all, the girl you can’t stop thinking about.

It’s only been an hour. Two, maybe. You miss her. You want her back, and you’d kill just to see her smile, right next to you.

Two weeks feels like an eternity, and all you can think is

I hope to hell she doesn’t forget about me.

I met a girl about two weeks ago. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and she smells like cool water. Davidoff Cool Water, to be exact. I sprayed some of her perfume on my shirt this morning before leaving her apartment, just to freshen up a bit, and the scent has been on me all day. It smells heavenly.

We went out dancing last night, and had an amazing time. No one parties better than the gay boys. In her words, “In a lesbian bar, you could probably replace the alcohol with tea, and no one would know the difference.” Never a truer word been said.

Not so in a gay bar. Madonna, Fergie, and 80s music mixed with contemporary beats is the best music for a night of wild and crazy dancing. Gay boys were making out everywhere, gyrating, scoping out the scene, and red lights were flashing over disco lights.

She left this morning to see some friends in the East Bay, so she dropped me off at a BART station in the city before heading out. She gave me a kiss in the car before she drove away. It felt so intimate…like we were together already. It’s only been two hours since I saw her last, and I miss her already. She’s going on a trip for two weeks at the end of the upcoming week, and I already know I’m going to miss her. It’s hard when you like someone so much so soon, and you aren’t even sure if that level of affection is warranted. I don’t even want to date anyone else anymore…all I want is her. This hasn’t happened to me in a while – I’ve always enjoyed dating people casually, while not expecting too much.

It’s been about 3 months since my last relationship, and for the first time, I want to be in a relationship with someone else. I remember being at the bar with her that night while she was ordering drinks for us – my arms wrapped tightly around her from behind. I felt like she was mine. And she was, at least during that moment, and I felt like I was holding the most beautiful girl in the world.

I remember her stroking my leg while we were being hit on by a random straight man in the bar, and I remember feeling very safe, very loved, and very happy. I remember taking her arm and wrapping it around me from behind because I was cold walking through the streets of San Francisco, and I remember her holding me tight and not letting go.

I want to listen to jazz with her, and laugh with her, and watch romantic comedies on the couch with her while holding her tight. I want to smile and wrap my arms around her while she’s cooking in the kitchen. I want to hold her hand while walking around in the Castro. Or anywhere else for that matter. I’m scared. I don’t want to get hurt. But for once, it feels like this could be worth it.

Hey there everyone,

I am going to start password protecting certain posts for privacy reasons, but would still love for you all to be able to read those entries. If you want access to all of my password protected posts, please comment on this entry with your email address, and I will send you the password that will allow you to read all of the protected posts. Otherwise, I will still be writing public entries every so often. Cheers!

xoxo,

sexandsanfrancisco

As promised, I am writing another post, since work did not actually kill me today. A lot has been happening in my life lately, besides working a busy 9-5, or in my case, actually, more of a 6-6, since I commute. I did not anticipate that graduation from college would lead me into a work life with twelve hour days. So please excuse the lack of posting lately!

Lately, I’ve been dating quite a bit, as well as hanging out with the ex. She drove up to the city to visit this past weekend, and I have to admit, I had a great time. I don’t know if it was the comfort from seeing her again in this city that is still relatively new to me, or if it was because we actually do get along very well. It was probably a mixture of the two.

The more interesting part of this story was the reason I asked her to visit. I had discovered a few weeks ago that she was casually talking to a potential romantic interest, and that just about tore me apart. I remember the night I found out, I could not sleep at all, and my heart was racing so fast that I had to take medication to calm myself down. My breathing was erratic, and my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. It’s strange how sometimes, when you let something go, you only let it go in hopes that someone else won’t pick it up. And when someone does, well, you go crazy.

This turned me onto dating many people at once. Casually, of course. I went out on two dates that week, even with people that didn’t particularly interest me. Anything to take my mind off my ex, I thought. If my ex was casually dating, I would casually date. What was silly about the whole ordeal was that I was dating to lessen my feelings of jealousy. Indeed, these people did take my mind off of my ex, but I didn’t know why I was dating them, other than to make myself feel less lonely.

I’m losing my sense of individuality. Being so incredibly focused on finding someone else to complete you, in effect, leaves you feeling incomplete. There is such great importance in being comfortable with being single, and with being an independent person. Only when you are comfortable and happy with who you are by yourself, can you be a wonderful half of a relationship. I’m happy with who I am, and I’m comfortable, but I feel like I’m starting to sacrifice my own goals and interests in order to find someone. It is at that point that you have little to offer in a relationship.

It’s incredibly easy to lose sight of your goals and individuality when you’re feeling lonely. It is incredibly easy to seek immediate gratification through the company of others when you are not ready for a new relationship. Does every great relationship have to be preceded by an excruciating period of loneliness? Does trying to preoccupy yourself while waiting for “the one” leave you ill-prepared to be in the relationship that’s actually meant to be?

The twenty-somethings are such a confusing period of life. I can only hope that I will figure things out soon, either by screwing up royally, or by finding my head somewhere along the way.

[Disclaimer: I am in no way advocating ex-sex. In fact I consider it highly detrimental, and a huge step backward.]

Ex-sex. It’s hard to properly enunciate if you say it fast. It’s also hard to predict what will happen after an encounter of that nature. You know what people say. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. It’s nothing but trouble. For some reason, after a couple of glasses of wine, and some reminiscing about the past, it feels as though there is no other alternative. Particularly when your ex is sitting on your lap, with her legs wrapped around you, practically pleading with you for one (or several) last times.

This is what happened this past weekend, when I drove down to south to visit my friends, and told my ex that I would drop by on the way back up to the city. As it turns out, dropping by turned into more of a night over, especially since I was tired after a long day of being in the car. And sleeping with her arms around me just seemed so appealing, especially considering the alternative – a longer drive home, in the dark, only to fall asleep, exhausted, all by my lonesome. Shame, shame, shame…I know. I am only human.

The feeling of her lips on mine again was intoxicating – perhaps even better than it was when we were together. I knew it was because of the forbidden aspect, but that didn’t prevent it from being an irresistible experience. The more she kissed me, the more I resisted, but after her arms wrapped around me along with her legs, and after I caught the scent of her delicious perfume, resistance was futile. My morals and restraint were all shot to hell. Besides, I thought, I loved her, and part of me loved her still. The soft jazz playing in the background made it near-impossible to avoid the ominous, vilified phrase: Sex with the Ex.

“What will happen if we do this?” I asked, terrified of what it could all mean.

“Nothing…I promise I won’t want a relationship out of this.”

My fears were somewhat abated. I let my defenses fall. I let it happen. It was incredible. Why is sex with the ex always so exhilarating, so passion-filled and so amazing? I’m sure we all know the answer. It’s wrong. And you think it will never happen again. All the more incentive to make it unforgettable. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, I smelled the sweet scent of her pretty hair, and I lost myself in what felt like the passion that only comes from your first love. I was deluded, no doubt, but the rush was undeniable.

We spent the remainder of the night cuddling just the way we used to – her arms around me tight, holding me from behind. I felt so safe. I sighed and leaned into her warmth. I woke in the morning to kisses. I could get used to this, I thought. But I still knew that this was something that would never last. Why the body and emotions will sometimes never align with the mind is something I will never be able to understand fully. I spent the remainder of the drive up north listening to emotional love songs, thinking of her. My emotions ran amok, while my mind calmly told me that I should simmer down, since I knew we were incompatible.

“Sex with an ex can be depressing,” Samantha Jones, of Sex and the City muses, “if it’s good, you don’t have it anymore. If it’s bad, you just had sex with an ex.”

How true she was. And now, I am discovering the consequences of sex with the ex. My entire drive was spent glancing at cute texts filled with sweet nothings from the ex. Now she is a larger part of my life than she really should be. Now I feel more for her than I really should feel. Now my life is that much less open to the woman of my dreams, should she walk into my life.

Emotions are complex. Ideas about always following your heart are fueled by idealistic romantic comedies, books and poetry that wish that the world were perfect. In a perfect world, we could all follow our hearts and live happily ever after. In the real world, it seems that a combination of logic and emotion must mix to create the perfect elixir for finding lasting love.

“Why won’t you just follow your heart for ONCE?!” My ex once exclaimed.

“I do,” I answered. But look what happens when you follow JUST your heart and completely ignore your head.

Not all love works out in the end. Even if it were the most pure, real, and strongest of loves. As John Mayer’s song Split Screen Sadness goes, “All you need is love is a lie, cause we had a love but we still said goodbye, now we’re tired, battered fighters.”

Love may not always last forever, and it does not always end in wedded bliss. There are a myriad of reasons why a love affair can end. But what I think we can be thankful for, in the very end, is the fact that love happened.

« Previous PageNext Page »