So. I have a situation here.
The Mathematician saw me three times this week and invited me to watch him play squash on Thursday.
This is getting way too intimate. We spend a lot of time together. He is always texting me and talking about his life and he does lovey-dovey shit like petting my hair and holding my hand. He brings me little presents, like a Starbucks card, and he e-mails pictures of his pets. Last night when he came to my apartment, he voluntarily changed two burned-out lightbulbs.
After he left last night–we’d spent about three hours together–he texted me from the train and then sent me a link to this video. Too funny! I thought you would like it! It reminded me of you! he says.
Well, I don’t drink beer, so it has to be the hawk. I told him about my Vermont falconry vacation over a month ago. Know what that means? It means that the man is actually listening to the words that are coming out of my mouth, and not just waiting to get the sexual attention he’s paying me for.
I was describing it to a friend at the Studio: “I think he has a crush on me.”
“Sounds like a lot more than a crush, Margo. You think a client invites you to a squash game where you are going to meet his friends?”
“My shrink says that he didn’t pressure me for sex when I spent the night because he’s repressed.”
“He didn’t pressure you for sex because he respects you and he’s not an asshole. And yeah, he’s probably a little scared. He gets a hot chick like you in bed and he doesn’t want to blow it. And it’s not like you’re some tease who is stringing him along for kicks and trying to hustle him for money.”
But here’s the thing: he’s still paying me.
I called up my friend, V., in Jersey. She is also a domme and she’s older than me and has a lot of experience with men.
“If you like him, fire him as a client! Tell him ‘Session’s over, math geek!’ and go have dinner and have sex with him! You don’t need him as a client. There’re always more clients.”
“No man wants a dominatrix for a girlfriend! No man is going to put up with that!” I wailed.
“That’s how he met you. If he holds it against you, it would be the very definition of hypocrisy.”
(Here, gentle reader, do you know what just happened? Literally, just now? Mathematician texts me to ask if I want to go see the new James Bond film with him! ARRRGH!)
Look, I don’t know him well enough to know if things would work out between us. But I do know that I’m attracted to him and I like him a lot. I also know that, objectively, he has everything I want in a partner. He does have kids, and that kinda sucks, but they’re mostly grown and don’t live with him, so it’s not a deal-breaker.
But…it’s the same damn conundrum I’ve been writing about since I started this blog: I cannot have a loving relationship with a healthy man and live the way that I do.
And I still owe the Surgeon money.
I have to change. I’m going to have to do it sooner or later–why not sooner? Because the way that I live is unsustainable.
Maybe things wouldn’t work out with the Mathematician. Couldn’t I at least try?
“I think that I have a lot of love to give to someone,” I told my shrink.
“Yes. But I think it is more important that you experience being loved.”
That made me cry and I don’t know why.
So. I have a situation here.