Ah, sexual dysfunction, my old friend...

I've still got the "Holy SHIT, Universe" vibe going on, but it's mellowed out a little bit.

I bought plane tickets to Phoenix and back for the 19th through the 21st, and reserved a car rental. I've talked to Peter, and am staying at the house, in the master bedroom suite I'd be renting. Checking the place out before packing up my shit and driving halfway across the country seemed like a good idea, even though it cuts pretty deeply into my moving budget.
I've also decided to keep the apartment in PDX for now. It's cheap-ish rent, and it's a safety line. Part of me wants to cut that line completely and just free fall, but the other part of me realizes that I fucking LOVE Portland and I'm about to try and move to the desert. The exact opposite climate of what I've been living in and loving on for the past 12 years. So, a nice little line back to sanity if I need it sounds like the adult thing to do. I keep going back and forth on this, telling myself that it'll only be a couple of months in Arizona, and then feeling like I'm moving away forever. I do know I have to give myself at least a couple of months. I'm so slow to accept change that I probably won't even start feeling happy and normal till after the first month. Giving myself time beyond that adjustment period to really figure out if I love it or hate it is important.

It's been interesting (and by interesting, I mean wildly fluctuating), my moods and thought processes over the past couple of weeks. It's been a rollercoaster ride, and I've been hard pressed to figure out WHY. I'm in a situation where I don't HAVE to do anything I don't want to. I'm fucking a friend, not a boyfriend. The syntax might seem like a small distinction, but it's an important one. Because I have to remember what the term "friend" means to me is not what it means to other people. For me, there is very little distinction between friend, lover, family. That sounds SO CREEPY. But it's true. When sex gets taken out of the equation as the defining characteristic between friend and lover, what separates the two? Is it responsibility? Is it what you owe them? What about when love gets taken out of the equation between lover and partner/family? Not being in love with your lover, but living with them, treating them like family... it blurs the lines into barely distinguishable smudges. For me. But not for everyone. And I needed to remind myself of that fact. Because a huge part of the rollercoaster of my emotions and thoughts over the past... fuck, MONTHS, has been T not living up to my expectations of friendship/lovers. I sat down and wrote him the following him, but I never sent it. Because re-reading it forced me to acknowledge some basic facts. I'm copying it here because I need to remember it. I realize it's very specific, and I'm genuinely sorry if it makes anyone reading this (I need to remember more often it's not just me) uncomfortable.

"I'm going to assume you have no idea why I'm so mad at you, and that's why you're acting so fucking oblivious.
I'm not mad at you because I'm jealous. I REALLY like C, and I can see you two having a lot of fun together. You're probably highly sexually compatible, and have a lot to give each other. I see her hickies as a job well done, and want to giggle with her over how much fun they were to get.

I'm fucking furious at the way you went about making sure this happened. You brought someone into my home for a week who you were planning on having sex with, and you gave me notice of that fact only after I told her I'd be thrilled to have her come out. When I tried to talk to you about it, you stonewalled me. You got angry when I said that I have boundaries, and expressed them. You got angry that I didn't want you to fuck her in MY ROOM. Seriously. I don't care if it's our room. It's the only space I have, and you got angry at me that I need to keep it safe.
You then proceeded to stress me the fuck out for the weeks prior to her getting here. I know you have a convenient memory when it comes to you acting like a dick, but you've been a dick, off and on, for weeks. And no, I don't have specific examples for you. It's not my job to catalog all the times you made me angry or stressed. You don't have to take my word for it, I don't give a fuck. I figured you were nervous, and I was stressed, and what the fuck ever.

But then she gets here, and I can't handle seeing your smug. Because not only did you not treat me like a lover in this process, you didn't even treat me like a friend. You treated me like a roommate who was getting uppity. You treated me like someone who leaves passive aggressive notes about stupid shit, instead of like someone who has tried her god damn hardest to communicate honestly with you for the entire fucking 3 years we've lived together. If you had unclenched your fucking asshole for 5 minutes and talked to me honestly about what your needs were in this situation, none of this would be happening. I wouldn't have been blindsided, and I'd have been able to plan things out and make sure everyone was happy and comfortable. Instead, I can't handle being around you right now without wanting to smack the smug from your face, and I'm trying desperately to make sure that none of that bleeds over on to C, because she doesn't deserve it. She deserves to come to Portland and have adult fun with whoever the fuck she wants, without the stress of other peoples drama.

You know why I gave you way too much information about my dating life over the years? Because that's the only way a true Friends with Benefits situation works. Trust, respect, and honesty. You gave me none of that the one time you really needed to. I'm not hurt because you're interested in somebody else. I'd want to high five you and do my damndest to make this situation fun and sexy for both of you.
I'm hurt because you have no fucking idea who I am if you can treat me this way, expecting me to act like a jealous girlfriend instead of an adult. That is, quite literally, the only reason I can think of for you to have been so freaking sneaky about C coming out. You were afraid that I'd try and stop you, and you avoided conflict the only way you knew how, by refusing to deal with it. I don't care if you don't get it, if you don't see it. It's not like I'm insightful about everyone else in the world but you, T. You can't tell me I'm good at reading people, and then expect me not to read you.

Make this better. Apologize, and mean it, and find a way to act like an adult in getting what you want from this situation. Take C out and about, take her to a hotel and fuck her brains out, have a ridiculous amount of fun with her, and still be capable of treating me like your god damn friend who's shared your bed for three fucking years."

Yeah. I might still send it, modified a bit. Because I still feel it. But... everything about that letter screams MY expectations. My idea of what our situation is, my definition of the right way to treat each other. It has very little to do with him. Having his own idea of our situation shown to me so honestly and bluntly was eye opening. Because the way he went about making sure he got what he wanted out of this situation showed me, very clearly, how he defines our friendship. It's not family, it's not lovers.

The fact that we fuck, and sleep together every night, and go out of our way to make each other comfortable... it just doesn't mean the same thing to him. It cracks me up, how very girly that sounds. And the fact that I consider differing expectations in a relationship, especially when they have anything to do with emotions, "girly" tells me how very, very far I still have to go to get away from my ridiculously sexist background. Anyways. The fact that we define friendship differently should not come as a surprise to me. The fact that I treat him the way I'd want to be treated, but don't get the same in return, should not be a surprise that took 3 years to fully see.

And it's not a horrible thing. He's not a bad person for it. He's a "guy", and a monogamous one at that. We very clearly defined our boundaries, AT MY INSISTENCE, very early in the relationship. And he stuck to his definition of them. That's it. For the most part, he still treats me like someone he doesn't know very well, someone he's comfortable sleeping with, but not someone he has any sort of emotional connection (that I understand) with. Anything else would not have worked for him. He needed a much stronger emotional barrier between us in order to deal with my absolute unwillingness to engage in traditional monogamy than I had realized. I'm a dork for not realizing it, and a selfish brat for deliberately not seeing how his needs conflicted with mine.

My honesty about my dating life, my continuing to fuck whoever I wanted to fuck, whenever I wanted... all those things made perfect sense to me within the boundaries of a friendship. I defined our relationship a certain way, a way that made me comfortable and happy. And he did the same thing. And the fact that I felt disrespected because I didn't get the honesty and openness I give when it comes to sex doesn't mean I necessarily had the right to expect those things from him. I should have KNOWN I wouldn't get them, based on what I know of him. And I should have realized that these things were a deal breaker for me, and taken steps to make sure that this didn't happen.

I do feel like I understand better now what I need from a relationship. I feel like I'm just starting to dig into the meat of my issues with love, my need for it and my distrust of it.
And I'm really, really sick of talking about myself. It feels like I haven't had anything interesting enough to focus on other than myself lately, and it's driving me a little insane. Because it's not like there aren't a BILLION INTERESTING THINGS going on outside of my head. My friends are dealing with some major shit I should be helping them with, there's a lot of beauty to focus on out there, and I have got to stop investing every resource I have in my own emotional development. Yes, it's important to give yourself enough attention, enough resources to grow and thrive. But god damn, Sarah. Where do you think you get those resources from in the first place, you closet extrovert, you?