Y'know, once upon a time when I still had friends, there was one particular amongst them that I mentioned probably somewhat frequently. I referred to her as my Lesbian Best Friend (LBF), in order to distinguish her from the guy I referred to as simply Best Friend. Who, as it turns out, is almost certainly Repressed Gay Best Friend. But we're not talking about him at the moment.No, we're talking about LBF, because she actually called me yesterday. Called and left a message, as my cell phone was not turned on. (It never is.) Left a message suggesting that I never answer this phone (I don't) and that I should call her if I've any desire whatsoever to do so.
Ah me. You know, even in this, my online diary which is supposed to be all anonymous and such, I still mostly tried to refrain from pointing out that LBF and I had a pretty screwed up sexual relationship that had been going on for a couple years. It wasn't screwed up because she was a lesbian sleeping with a guy, really who any of us sleeps with is definitely our own prerogative, and plenty of people I imagine stray across the lines of their declared orientation when the situation so suits them. No, it was screwed up because she wouldn't admit to sleeping with me to save her life.
Which, as well, would tend to be one's own prerogrative. Yet, if you've ever been a lover to someone who would absolutely never want to admit that you were, you would yourself realize it's not the best place in the world to be.
Pretty much, she ended up on my Friends I'll Avoid list when it got to where I felt I'd just been relegated to her own private booty call. Basically, I never saw her unless it was gonna end that way ... which, maybe, I still wouldn't have had a problem with, except again for that secrecy part. Sorry, I can't be the person anyone is ashamed of. Hell, if anything I should be the person someone is bragging about.
Anyway, I'm supposing I really should call her. Our friendship predated the sexual complications by several years, and honestly I myself rather lamented that it turned out the way it did. Still so, when I was thinking the other day of not having had sex for months upon months ... yeah, she would be the last person I had been with. And, I actually don't want her (in that sense) these days. So I wonder if it can't help but be a little awkward.
Hm. By the by, I do wanna say this: Pretty much, the celibacy thing for my self is easy enough to accomplish just by not trying to have sex. Gorgeous tho I may be, of late I haven't had any too many women simply physically attacking me. Don't really know if I want a world where I have to try and resist any advances.
But, ah me. How exactly simple can life truly be, so long as we live in the world?
