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The Naked Truth

I hung out with GF and our close mutual friends at Wood N Tap last Wednesday.  It was the first time we all hung out under the new circumstances of me dating a girl.

It was weird.

When I’m with my friends, the people who know me the best and known me forever, I feel completely at ease at all times.  I’m able to be myself.  But when I’m with GF around them, it’s like my old self clashes with my new self and I don’t feel….well, like myself.

The outcome is someone who is nervous and serious and embarrassed – not me at all.  Especially not who I am when I’m with my friends.  It’s like, what if they think I changed?  What if they look at me differently?  What if I can’t see myself in their eyes anymore?

And I never identified with being a lesbian, I don’t identify myself as one even now.  So it’s hard to act like one, but especially hard to act like one in front of the people who never seen me as one.

I don’t want to lose my old self.  I Love that girl.

And GF acts differently too when she’s around them.  Her voice goes up a few notches and she acts all innocent – which I know she is not all that innocent when left alone with me.

But when I take her to my Pool League it’s different.  I’m able to act like my normal self when I’m with my pool league and she can be herself too.  The pool league people are friends, but not close friends, so it’s different.

She wanted me to watch her undress yesterday.  She was changing out of her exercise clothes.  She said it would be good for me.  I didn’t know what to say.  I never know what to say.  I know for certain I never watched any of my friends get undressed before nor have I wanted to, but she is my girlfriend and as a proper lesbian, I have to do these things – I know I have to do these things.  This is what lesbians do.

I sat myself on her bed and I kept looking down at my toes.  I couldn’t do it.  I failed.  I am such an asshole.

All I want to do is make her happy but I fail at the most stupid, trivial things.  I can’t bring myself to watch a girl undress – something so simple.  And I didn’t know what to do with my face.  Should I look happy?  No, that’ll be weird.  Don’t smile.  Should I look impressed?  No, that’ll be weird too!  Just don’t have any expression.  I can’t be expressionless!  Okay, Mona Lisa smile.  Do the tight lip Mona thing you do.

But by the time I figured out my face problem, it was done and she was dressed.  I managed not to see a thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore her, truly, but there’s another thing I’m worried about.  The sex will happen, eventually.  It has to.  And I’m working up all my courage to partake in it but then I realized – it’s not a one time event.  It’s not a wham bam thank you ma’am and I’m off to experience another conquest – no.  It just occurred to me that I will have to keep having sex with her.  It’s not something I can “get out of the way and be done with it” kind of thing.  It’ll be an ongoing occurrence.

How am I just thinking about this now?  Am I a complete idiot?  Don’t answer that.

She’s probably the best thing that ever happened to me.  I know she is.  I’m already 38 and this is the first time I met someone who loves and accepts me completely without playing head games or making me feel like shit.  I’m sticking by my decision to see this through because honestly, if I don’t, I’ll be looking back on it when I’m old and alone wondering what ever happened to that girl that made me feel so wonderful.  I can see it so perfectly in my head.  The regret.

It’s very important that I don’t freak out or have one of my panic attacks in front of her again – it’s of the upmost importance.  And I’ll seriously never be able to live with myself if I hurt her.  So this is it for me.  This is it until she decides to break it off.  No matter what happens in the sex department, I’ll take responsibility and I’ll deal with it.

I don’t know if I’ll ever actually want to watch her get undressed.  Some things can not change and this feels like one of them.  But I also know for certain that I love her and want to make her happy.  Which truth is more important?  The love part is more important.



This post first appeared on Melanie's Life Online | Read It To Absorb My Awesomeness, please read the originial post: here

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