This is what I reckon a Barbelith Sex forum would be like...
Attempting to be objective, I think when we talk about our own love experiences, there's a fair amount of retro-mythologising going on: every glance and chance encounter is reevaluated and formed into an increasingly polished How We Met narrative.
Having said all of which, I think yes, I did have it and I still have it. Prior to properly meeting Xoc I'd seen him around the place and noted that he was particularly striking, in terms of appearance. It's hard to put my finger on what, exactly, and I don't think it was the same thing as 'love at first sight'; more a feeling of... being intrigued, wanting to know more. I'd come out relatively late in life for the era of gaydom - in my early 20s - and only shagged four men, not really enough to have a 'type' (unless one counts the fact that they were all older than me). Anyway, I'd asked people who he was, established that he was a gayer, etc., etc.
When it all happened (and it took a lot of not-so-surreptitious manoevreing on my part), I'm not sure that I had particular expectations of the encounter: male bodies were still enough of a fascinating novelty to me that the reveal and exploration were enough. First date was at Xoc's place, and I remember that sense of intrigue being further stoked by his flat, the books and CDs, the pictures on the walls, the way he'd put it all together. I wanted to ask loads of questions, and I did. And we both got very, very drunk.
The thing that clinched it for me, I suppose, is the fact that, even from that first date, I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay, be around, talk, touch, lounge on the floor with him. I didn't feel my time or my space was being invaded; I wanted to be around him. It's difficult to convey just how out of character this was for me: I'd always felt claustrophobic sharing living space with someone for more than 24 hours, 48 tops. None of the previous four had been one-night-stands (one in particular had gone on wayyy longer than it should've) but, mornings after, I'd invariably want to be gone, or want them gone. Xoc was different. I craved his company, I didn't want to be parted.
It was all quite stereotypically lesbian, really: move in straightaway; get mail redirected after a week; rent own flat after a month...
Impossible to generalise from one's own experiences, but that's how I felt - and feel - with Xoc. I continue to be intrigued, to want to talk, to want to know more, to fret if we're apart too long. I can imagine us old and doddering together, and it doesn't bother me.
*shrugs*
There y'go, Smoothly. Emotional Exhibitionists R Us. |
