What turned me on part 13
Divorce has a way of taking its toll on both parties. Even if you are the one filing, it separates you from the norms and life you once had. Like many others before me, when the game is over for a married couple, you lose friends. Some stay with you, some with the other party involved. It just goes that way. That was the phase I was in.
The friends and groups we once had were now divided between two people and as much as everyone said, "I'll be there if you need me," that was not the case when I did. Even more saddening, the friends I maintained were still married, still had jobs, had children, and had other responsibilities in their lives, which came well before me.
Maybe in some way, the loneliness and depression led me to where I was. Maybe the lack of common, continual, supporting friendships had led me down the road I had chosen in the last year or so. Perhaps that sudden, mind-blowing alternative reality, led me to start fantasizing about Jane. Led me to pursue Mary. Led me to those vastly different, unique, and surprising lesbian experiences and interests. None of which cured me when I was sitting at home on a Tuesday night, with no one calling, no one stopping by, no one asking me if I wanted to do something this upcoming weekend. Nothing.
I knew in my heart I wasn't a lesbian. It wasn't some prolific, sudden realization that I liked women more than men. But somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, my body longed for it. Perhaps as I stated in previous chapters it was "man hating." It was the anguish of being left by a man with three kids and nowhere to go. No love. No excitement, no sense of direction. Wanting something different. Something better. Maybe a part of my brain was activated the moment I saw Jane and thought what a powerful, strong, independent, no-bullshit woman she was. Maybe I wanted to be her. Maybe I felt I needed that sense of direction, her strength, her glorious looks, her powerful, yet supportive being. And that wanting didn't come from becoming that powerful woman, but wanting to sleep with that powerful woman.
And as much as I fantasized about her, saw a video with a porn actress who looked like her, which enhanced my obsession. I needed to move forward. And I did. I crossed that line, I got lucky enough and had that short - tedious at times - lesbian relationship. And as much as I loved it, and needed the time, the talks, the attention, the excitement, the pictures, and the videos, I still wasn't getting what I needed. I needed to be that strong, powerful, sexy-looking, yet supportive woman. It was time for a change and it was time for me to move forward.
Mary had slipped away, slowly but surely. I knew it was happening and as much as I wanted to fight scream, yell, or even beg her to stay. I knew where she was at in life. She was never going to come out as anything but straight. We were never going to be a committed, living together, out-to-the-world couple. Maybe I wouldn't have either. And perhaps we could have kept the secret a while longer. Maybe found more creative ways to sneak in more time together. But it wasn't going any further. I had come to accept that. As painful as it was watching her slip away because I did love her, I gave her the respect and dignity, she needed and just let it go. I missed her company, our talks, and our alone time, which led me to the feeling of being left behind again, and it sucked.
This time, however, even the porn movies, the fantasies of Jane, and the frequent masturbation I was enjoying, weren't cutting it. I had gone from someone not getting laid very often in my marriage, to someone who couldn't keep my hands out of my panties, to fantasizing about women, to having a woman, and back to having nothing. There was no one else I could hate, or be turned off by. Both men and women had busted my bubble of loving committed relationships. Of fun pleasurable nights. Of experiencing the lust, love, and passion of love-making. I gave up on relationships. I refocused on myself, my health, my life, my family, my children and I had given up pleasuring myself. I figured when the right moment arose, at the right place, at the right time, with the right attraction, I'd know.
As much as I wanted to get off. As much as I needed to be fucked, I set that aside. I needed more than to be fingering myself senseless viewing some porn movie. I needed the real thing. I longed for love and a relationship. But as time passed, I started to believe in the end, I would probably end up being the bitter old cat lady, who hasn't been laid in twenty years that all the neighbors bitch about. I didn't want it to go that way. I didn't want to be the cat lady. I needed excitement, I needed comradery, I needed communication and I set out to find it.
I joined several adult friendship network-type sites, looking to meet new people. Go on new adventures, from wine tastings to concerts in the parks to taco Tuesday fiestas. I needed new friends. I needed new hope and I needed to change who I was. To become that person everyone needed to talk to, wanted to be around, and wanted as their friend. And by God, I was going to do it.
It took some time and some dedication on my part, but I started going to events and hanging out with the same groups and slowly developed friendships with a good amount of people. It was a fun group that had, at its core, a host of men and women who depended on each other for support. One lady in particular was a full-on bull-dyke lesbian named Rita. Rita was older than I was by about 15 years. She was a nice lady. She was overweight, had a short man's style haircut, had more tattoos than any man I knew, and was clearly into women only. She was a sweetheart and carried her emotions on her sleeve. I had no interest in her, nor her to me, but as time went on, I'd see her more and more and we would sit and talk and we developed a trust and friendship for one another.
Rita would call and text me a lot. I guess she knew as well as I did, that being alone, more importantly, being alone without good friendships sucked. Let alone a lover. And from her vantage point, she was no better off than I was. We probably communicated more than I did with any of the other new friends I had met. And I didn't mind. It was nice to hear from someone more often than not and for her to extend invites for me to join her at the bar, or a party. We weren't as close or as deep as some of my other (so-called) friends, or even Mary, but at least we could communicate.
One week several months into our friendship, Rita was blowing up my phone asking me to go with her to the lesbian bar, because they were having a Saturday night 80's dance-off party. I wasn't overly intrigued. I really had no desire to hang out in a lesbian bar on a Saturday night, with loud music, spend way too much money on drinks, and most likely go home alone. After she begged me for days, promising me dinner before and drinks during I reluctantly agreed. I met Rita for dinner and she was so excited to go to this bar. I guess it had recently opened and was becoming the hottest nightclub for the "women' in the area.
I followed her to the bar and went inside. The atmosphere was nice, the lights were flickering, the music was pumping and the place was crowded. I found a seat at the corner of the bar and was having a drink with Rita. Looking back, I could venture to say it wasn't a bad experience, just somewhere I never expected to find myself. What upset me that night was every time I turned around, I had some rather hellacious dyke broad with her shaved head, or wild-colored hair approach me and try to pick me up. I felt like I was in one of those meat market-style bars for singles and that was never my scene.
After being there a while, a wild, loud obnoxious, "woo'ing" wedding party came rumbling through the door. The entourage had to be 25 deep, with the bride, her bridesmaids, family, and friends. The DJ was announcing them like Kim Kardashian had just come in. It was rather obnoxious. And being that I hated the idea of marriage (at that point) I was almost sick to my stomach. The girls in the wedding party danced, drank, screamed, yelled, and took over the entire room.
After a while of watching this drunken shit show, I needed to go use the lady's room. I was sitting alone at that point because Rita was chatting with another - what I would call - Hells Angel Lesbian dyke and had left me alone. Which I knew was going to happen, but I just let her have her fun and was playing wing-woman for her.
As I started walking from the bar, trying to maneuver around the crowded dance floor, I walked past a woman coming in the opposite direction. She had her hair up and one of the bridesmaid's silly wedding party hat on. I recognized her, but I just couldn't put a name to the face. I almost froze as she walked past me. We made eye contact; I know she saw me. As I just started to walk further, I was running every face, name, or place I had been trying to think of who this was. Was it someone from my gym? Someone I worked with years ago? A lady from the lesbian dating site I was on for a while. I just couldn't place her.
