Sleeping with Girls

Playing Hard-To-Get

I put my jacket on as I wiped the tears from my eyes. She didn't know I was crying. She had no idea I was sad. How could she? I rarely shared that information with her. But I was. Because all I ever wanted was for her to love me.

I scooted to the side, my back was to her, as I grabbed my jewelry off her night stand. I was leaving today and I wasn't coming back.

"Hey," she touched my back, "When will I see you again?" She was in her sweet phase. 

It was not the time to have the talk. Besides, I didn't want her to see me crying. I didn't want her to see me this sad. 

"Maybe this weekend?"  I managed to get the words out. But, I was lying. I was leaving for Belize in a few days and hadn't told her yet.

"Okay well, I'll have to check my schedule."

And just like that the tender moment was over. I could hear her turning away from me. Erecting her walls. Putting the block up that she had that kept everyone out. There it was glaring back at me again. All of a sudden she was going to be unavailable. For who knows how long. 

But I was over it. In fact I'd been done for a long time. 

This game of cat and mouse was taking its toll on me.  Maybe it wasn't a game for her, but it sure felt like it to me. 

I straightened up and continued gathering my belongings. I was aware of what this looked like. I was packing up. Not to mention, I had gone silent. The typical morning banter we would share on the rare occasions when she was available and we would spend the night together, was missing today. I was in my head, and she knew it. 

She hurt me in so many ways, but if anything, she wasn't stupid. She knew something was up. But, she would never ask. She would never inquire directly if something was wrong. Her aloofness, her unavailability, her playing hard to get and sleeping around with every girl in town was all a cover up for her own pain and her own fear of abandonment. This I knew all too well. But, I also knew I couldn't save her from her pain. At least, now I knew, because I had spent the last several years trying to win her over, only to be left with this: a few pieces of my clothes, my jewelry, my belongings strewn around her rented room in an old Victorian house. 

I wiped my tears. I could hear the sheets ruffling, and she stood up and casually walked out of the room. I head the door to the bathroom shut and the water start running. I sat down on the bed, my head full of conflicting emotions. 

Should I tell her now? Should I wait?

I would miss her. I would miss us. 

This bed. I had spent many nights in this bed. I turned my head, and touched her pillow. The evidence was there. We did love each other. We had a thing. 

It started out as a casual fling. I was studying for my Law exams and was meeting up with some of the girls after work to grab happy hour drinks at our favorite lesbian dive bar.  I was cozying up with some of my favorite folks in the world, my best friends. The fire place was on and we all had just sat down with our hot whiskey totties and alcholic cider that we'd secured from the bar, to catch up on relationship, work, family stuff, you know, life. 

Living in the city was hard, but having a great place to go, to catch up, and especially to feel supported was key. We did this every week on Thursdays. And, it was girls night at the bar. It wasn't a popular club night by any means, and we liked it that way. As working professionals, we didn't want a meat market where we could pick up on women. We just wanted a quiet place where we could catch up and simultaneously feel at home. Finding good all women queer spaces wasn't always easy, but we had it lucky. We lived in a big gay city!