And so it began, aka What we are
"I bet I could whup your ass, Trevor."
I'll go out on a limb and suggest I'm bigger and stronger, but I have no doubt you more than edge me out on skill and viciousness.
-Trevor"
I found that old conversation from way back in 2006. And it cracks me the fuck up. Because it so perfectly encapsulates what we are to each other.
People keep asking me to define Trevor and I, what we are to each other. And I keep using words like Friends with Benefits, roommates, companions, lovers, friends, NOT dating, NOT in a relationship, fuck buddies... and they all come up short. And the people I'm explaining this to end up looking at me pityingly, thinking "uh huh. Not in a relationship. Sure."
But the thing is, what we are can't be defined like that. We're not in a relationship. We're not each others true loves. I love Trevor, but I'm not in love with him. I'm absolutely positive he feels the same way about me. We talk about it on a regular-ish basis. Making sure we're both on the same page, acknowledging what we are to each other.
In another, geekier world, Trevor and I would be companions of the road. We'd both be Paladins, seeking our worthy adversaries, our precious endeavors. We'd start out as uneasy allies, and end as battle scarred, world weary veterans who bicker like an old married couple. He's the gruff, cynical one, convinced that love is a fallacy, hard bitten, lied to one too many times, and content in his bachelorhood. I'm the bright eyed, optimistic, secretly cynical one. Content to wait for love, happy in the moment, unabashedly horny and comfortable with the knowledge that sex is fun and sex with friends is funner. Trevor is a ranger and I'm a thief. There. I said it. We're nerds.
We're also a ridiculous amount alike. We're both driven to take care of others. We're both stronger than we're comfortable with, we're both uncomfortable with being taken care of. We're both brutally honest and distressingly close mouthed. We neither of us like to expose too much of who we really are to the world, but don't put on a front. We're just a lot alike. Trust me, you'll just have to take my word for it. I can not TELL you how many people are baffled by my choice in this guy. There was this sense of "What. The. Fuck, Sarah. What the hell is this anti-social, gruff, intimidating, snarky, Southern, conservative dude doing in your bed???" every time I introduced him to friends.
And I don't always know what to tell them. But it all started with that conversation up there. I've known Trevor for... going on 8 years now. Our interaction was minimal, and all online. I was dating Jake when I first got to know him, and he was in Iraq. I was attracted to him, to his sense of humor and honor, to his extremely self aware yet constantly self deprecating knowledge, to his well thought, intelligent posts about things that I COMPLETELY disagreed with him about. But, I was dating someone. I didn't flirt, I didn't encourage. Well, I mostly didn't flirt. I flirted a little bit. But a hell of a lot less with him than with other men, because he was dangerous and they weren't.
If you'd have told me in 2006 that he'd be coming out to live in Portland, in my house, in my bed, I'd have told you you were fucking insane. I payed more attention to his posts than to most, but that was the extent of our interaction for a long time. He'd go for long periods of time between posts, because he was in active duty, and I'd be aware of how long he was gone for. The forum we were (are) a part of was an extremely tight knit group. I knew more about these people than I did about most of my meat space friends. I consider them friends, with the knowledge and comfort that goes along with that idea. Because of that, Trevor felt like a friend right off the bat. A fun, flirty friend who said things like "Darlin'" and meant it.
So, the foundation was laid.
And then Jake and I broke up. And I went on a freedom bender. I was like a tightly coiled, wound up spring that had been suddenly released, and by god did I enjoy myself. And I started to flirt a little more with Trevor. And he started to flirt a little more back. You wouldn't know we were flirting, looking at our posts. They're mostly tongue in cheek argumentative. But that's another way we're alike. We both get turned on by combative sparring. Thank god. Anyways, we started to interact a little more. I went about my life, posting WAY TOO MUCH information about my sex life in this forum, and he was aware of most of it. Though I think he avoided the sex thread... but it leaked out all over the place, and he couldn't help but be aware that I was exuberantly living La Vida Loca. And he'd come back from Iraq a little different. Darker, a little more cynical, and tightly wound inside with no outlet for release. I could sense it in him, and it troubled me. I realized I was thinking more about this person than I was about the people actually, physically in my life. So, I sent him a facebook friends request. And we starting chatting online, in different venues. We sent messages back and forth for a long time, just talking shit. And then he crossed the line and made it sexual. And I breathed a sigh of relief and thought "finafuckingly". And it got hot. Oh, so hot. We think alike, and we have excellent imaginations and communication skills. God damn, was it hot. I get all bothered by it even now, just thinking about those first weeks of serious... I can't even call it flirting. It was something, and it got me insanely frustrated. He pulled out parts me that I'd hidden away in the dark, afraid of and ashamed, and he made them strong. I could tell him things that I couldn't do with lovers, and he could do the same with me. And in the middle of all this hotness was the same level of camaraderie and comfort I'd felt with him for years.
After a couple of months of this, I started to hint around that he should come visit Portland. He was looking for ways to get out of the miserable situation he was in, either by re-enlisting or going to school. I encouraged school. He explored getting his masters in Library Science. I got wet just thinking about the awesome nerdiness of that, and sent him a link about a Masters program in Portland. I'm not sure which one of us actually got that ball rolling. I have a feeling we both thought we were sneakily manipulating the other, though he'd never admit it. I got nervous at the idea that I might be pulling him out here under false pretenses. I was VERY, VERY honest about not wanting to be in a relationship, and he was just as adamant. I still talked too much about my many and varied partners and positions. He knew where I was in life. And I knew where he was, and was reassured by the knowledge that he was a curmudgeonly, confirmed bachelor with an intense distrust of women. I wasn't really women, so it worked.
Anyways, the ball started rolling towards Portland faster and faster. We started looking at houses for him to rent rooms from. I sent him hilarious, oh so typical Portland ads, hippy houses where he'd stick out like a sore, bright red thumb. Hipster houses where he'd be miserable. Strangely enough, I didn't send him very many realistic ads. And I offered to let him crash at my place till he found a comfortable situation.
And then came the day when he packed all his shit in his truck and started driving across the country from Fort Bragg. And I started hyperventilating. What THE FUCK was I thinking? This guy, freshly back from Iraq, most likely with PTSD, almost a complete stranger... a large man who could pick me up and snap me in two if I made him angry, who I'd never met before, and I was fucking inviting him to SLEEP IN MY BED. I can not tell you how constantly nervous I was. Well, torn between nervous and intensely excited. We'd tormented each other for MONTHS with graphic, wonderful depictions of what we'd do to each other when we met. And all those fantasys were now going to be given the chance to become reality.
Ok, this is way too fucking long. Part two tomorrow!
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