“Did you make yourself look extra beautiful when you came to see me for your last massage?”

“Mayyybe.”

“Well, it definitely worked. You were stunning. I had the thought that your face resembled Buddha’s and that I could stare at you for the rest of my life….”

Not exactly what I was going for, and this was the strangest compliment I had ever received. In fact, I only knew that it was a compliment because it was coming from Sammy.

Some nights, I texted her from my sanctuary, and some nights, I texted her from bed with Anthony as he fell asleep to his shows. Sammy asked me why he didn’t throw the TV out when I told him I didn’t care for it. The truth is that I hadn’t minded it all that much in the beginning of our marriage; in fact, I had liked falling asleep to the television when I was single. I guess it started changing as alone time became less available and intimate connection became more highly sought after. That hour or two at the end of the day was precious, and I wanted something meaningful to be there. But by then, a pattern had already been established and was not easily negotiable.

Sammy and I were twitterpated. We each had fantasy-inspired slip-ups. My repeat offense was bringing in the groceries and leaving them on the counter where I would forget about them until the ice cream melted. Sammy was in such a daze that she once accidentally slow-kissed her yoga mat during class, mistaking it for me. We were both driving around town 10 miles below the speed limit.

I was in my “own” bed this night, and a good deal of my discussion with Sammy was centered around sex. Sexual practices, sexual preferences, safe sex. (A silent interlude when I smelled a poopy bedtime diaper across the hall and went to change it.) We talked about what this “open relationship” structure looked like logistically, for Sammy and for Superbloom. They had different styles of dating. Sex had been a dynamic experience in some of Sammy’s relationships, but she had come to the realization for herself that sex was rarely necessary or even desired, even in emotionally and spiritually intimate relationships.

We revisited the mistaken orgy incident from the night before:

“I really thought you had four people over to the house for sex, and that this must happen all the time. I don’t know if that’s funny or offensive.”

“LOLOLOLOL”

“Ok.”

“I’m totally tickled that you would still even talk with me. I do have some beautiful memories of connection, which include sex, but hardly with the frequency you were thinking. That’s so, so funny! Thank you for coming to me, even so.”

After a pause in the conversation, Sammy re-entered it:

“Ok. Pop quiz…. How many people have flipped my stomach and made me bashful and shy?”

“Two.”

“Lol, this is like a newly wed show. Bonus question: Which two were those?”

“Superbloom…and me.”

“Ding ding ding ding! You have won!!! New sheets for you….”

Leetl called out from her room: “My mom’s cocoa beans!”
I performed my part: “I do not see!”
L: “Stop! that! BIRD!!!”
M: “Oooooaheeeaheheheee….”
L: [SCREAM]
M: “I do not see!”
Together: “Luuuuuna Luuuuuune….”
[Adapted lazily from Let’s Go Luna! I may never know the correct words.]

Sammy continued, unaware of my other conversation. “I have so so so many ideas of how we can enjoy our time together tomorrow….”

“Tell me.”

“3-mile lake hike and picnic; canoe around the lake; walk along the ocean; stay here and make love for four hours; paddleboard in the ocean; get matching footie pajamas from the store and wear them together in bed while you tell me your stories….”

I laughed. “All of those things sound amazing…. Let’s take a walk near the lake or ocean. Meet at your house?”

“Lovely…. Can I kiss you when I see you?”

I froze. Despite the lead up, this specific question caused paralysis. It’s not the headlights themselves that are terrifying; it’s the not being able to see what’s on the other side of those lights and what the impact will be. There is terror in the unknown, the implication that everything could change; there is even possibility of death.

“You don’t have to answer right now…. Are you nervous about being with a woman?”

I quickly contemplated that to a definitive answer: no. I wasn’t nervous about that. I had kissed a woman before and that was fun and exciting, even with a non-Sammy. It’s just that I hadn’t kissed anyone besides Anthony in over a decade, and it appeared to be the end of this particular era, many other ends which would certainly be riding its tail. All technicalities, but nevertheless….

It was only the “change” thing that made me nervous. But I knew it was worth whatever the risk was. Things, actually, had to change…now that I was engaged with life in this way.

“I’m not nervous about being with you…. Yes, you can kiss me tomorrow.”

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