Author’s note: This is the final installment, after a long hiatus, of a series of pieces that reflect the first year that I realized I like women. I was married when I first made this realization, and my husband and I explored both my sexuality and polyamory. The first part begins here. Part two is here, followed by parts three and four.
Oct. 30
The electricity is palpable. Our bodies undulate and press closer together in the dark club, faces just inches apart. It's all I can do not to collapse into M's beautiful mouth, drinking in kisses. It takes all my willpower to hold back. But she looks so hot in my gothic belly dance costume that I lent her for our Halloween clubbing adventure. Wait, but no — N and I are just going out with her tonight as friends. She's getting over a brutal breakup and we're supporting her. Yet, I haven't felt this kind of burning desire and passion since T. Immediately, part of me tries to feel guilty, because I should feel like that towards my actual girlfriend. Because even if something does happen tonight, I know that it absolutely would not mean a thing. This is M. She is very much like T in a lot of ways. I think I understand certain things about her. And this probably means nothing.
But I think I am okay with that.
Even just a few months ago, I wouldn't have gotten that. Everything had to be centered around a relationship or a potential relationship. I've never before understood making out just for the fun of it, because for me, I need that spark — that chemistry — that something that whispers, "Okay now, kiss. This person is special and you should kiss now." Although I still need that trigger to make me want to kiss someone, I think now I'm at the point where I can want this without necessarily making it into a thing.
But still, why don’t I feel this same intensity with either my girlfriend or my husband?
This article appears in Feb 24 – Mar 2, 2011.