Kizz & Tell is a combination of item #17 on my Life List (Develop an erotic fiction web site) and a continuation of the G-spot column I used to write at The Women's Colony. From fantasies to frank discussion I'm just trying to re-create a really great conversation with your friends. I hope you'll join in!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Instead I was thinking about beginnings. I was ready to be all sweet and sappy and talk about first kisses and first feelings and first nights on the bear skin rug by the fire with the champagne and the strawberries and no socks. Then a funny thing happened.
While thinking about beginnings I got sideswiped by my fucking brain with thoughts of a recent ending. There's this guy (every story starts out like that) and we've been off and on and off and on and oooooofff and on for decades. Through an accident all my own we got sort of back on last spring. The first night we were together was...adequate. Where adequate means you really want to get back together with the person to erase that memory because it's totally fucking bumming you out. We met up one more time after that and in the space of less than an hour were somehow crashing and burning so historically that I ordered him out of my house and no one got laid. It was an ending. Admittedly we're people who've seen a lot of fake endings with each other over the years but, I tell you, after that I continue not to be sorry to have seen the last of him.
I will, however, be sorry for those two evenings to have been the last of it. How many movies have we seen where someone gazes off into the middle distance and says, "If only I'd known that was going to be the last time..." In this instance I'm left wondering if I'd known would I have slept with him again at all? I'm a girl who eats the crust of her toast first because the middle of the bread tastes better and I like to finish the meal with the better taste in my mouth. On the other hand a night in the sack is usually far and away better than any day digging ditches so where's the harm?
There's a cost to some old memories for sure. Even if said memories were shot with a vaseline covered filter I'd almost rather have them at the forefront than this, let's call it highly uncomplimentary, one. It makes me sad about the guy, sad about myself, sad about the whole relationship which, while nowhere near perfect, held a lot of great things for me.
I guess the conversation starter is two-pronged this chilly November morning. 1. Regarding my situation, if I'd known, do you think I would or should have gone forward? 2. Do you have any last times that make you look back (for any reason) and say, "If only I'd known..."?