Exclusivity Before Commitment

I thought girl talk was supposed to clarify, sort through, and expand on man issues. In France I've missed out on this kind of banter for the past 2 years, and now I can say, returning from an evening of presque non-stop man/dating/interpreting of hidden messages chatter, I have never been more confused. 

Tonight I was told that the "girlfriend/boyfriend" thing works for guys, because they can date a woman for years and never consider marrying her, but it doesn't work for women. Women apparently don't have monogamous sexual relationships without attachment and a goal of commitment. The open-ended intimacy doesn't work with us. So! What is the solution according to my gal pals? No committed relationships until marriage: in other words, no exclusivity until someone is willing to offer commitment in exchange. 

Apparently it's ok to stop having sex with other people, but dating should remain open until the one "steps up" (I prefer sacks up) and is ready to give you commitment in exchange for  your fidelity and exclusivity. (Which, as the theory goes, would work since women can't give that without getting attached.)

This tends to go against my current belief system which tells me good love and good relationships come from monogamy and intimacy, so go for it, but my attached and insecure side wonders if I'm doing it all wrong.  

Is it ok to give it all? Or are we giving it all to soon? 

Giving up the Ghost

When we have our hearts broken, or lay victim to unrequited love, do we ever really give up the day dreams? The shoulda-woulda-coulda's and the ghost of our feelings? Do we ever completely shake the glimmer of hope that they'll come back, years later and begging for forgiveness? When it comes to Handsome Parisian, I can say that I'm thoroughly erked that I wasn't able to ignite any embers of commitment in his heart. But after three months between us, what remains of him in my mind has waned to an image of his ENORMOUS dinner plate hands. Big hands make me absolutely weak in the knees, and, if nothing else, it's the ghost of those hands on my body that would lead me down the path of infidelity, if anything did.

Last night, I Skyped with TMI for the first time since he left. He was standing under a street lamp outside the vineyard and his face faded in and out of focus. I was surprised by how handsome he looked. Like new lovers usually do, we talked about nothing and smiled foolishly at one another for 45 minutes until his battery died. Before he went he assumed a serious face and said "I love you. Really, je t'aime." He says it sparingly and never just throws the words around; always adding my name at the end.

I was affected by his sincerity. Today, while working in the cafe and passing a lull on Facebook, Handsome Parisian prodded me flirtatiously about visiting. In a sudden act of righteousness that surprised even me, I told him I'd decided we should skip it. Something inside me finally gave way and I saw him in a different light: a devastatingly handsome jerk and probably the end of a relationship with a man who truly loves me. And so, just like that, I resolved to forget the hands and give up the ghost.

Kissing or Telling

Yesterday I surprised myself when, in a frisky frenzy and ironically amidst very fond thoughts for TMI, I messaged Handsome Parisian. And, like the worst kind of vixen, I announced that my boyfriend was out of town. I couldn't resist the thrill of the flirt and, assuming a position of non-commitance, asked if he might be traveling in Dijon's direction anytime soon. To my simultaneous horror and delight, he said he could probably figure out how to "swing something."

Then I had to take a startled pause. What the heck am I doing? Am I really deliberating planning to cheat on TMI? How is it that I can go around all day missing him and telling myself that I love him and in the same state of mind casually ask Handsome Parisian if he's up for casual sex?

Somehow I always hoped that love came with a handy dandy eraser of any desire for other people. YES I'm sympathetic, YES I desperately want to avoid hurting TMI, and yet, I can't shake the solid belief that it's not the cheat that does the hurting, it's the TELLING.

Casual sex with someone else wouldn't erase my feelings for TMI; it wouldn't dissuade me from being in a relationship with him. In fact, the only thing that would have any conceivable effect on our future or happiness together would be assaulting him with the terrible truth.

....

......

..

Right?

Seriously which is the crime here, the kissing, or the telling??

Cave Dreams and Jesus

Last night I dreamt I was Ayla from Clan of the Cavebear and having all sorts of hot pre-historic sex with a blonde, virile caveman. Then, without warning, he turned into a surfer dude and left me for a woman of modernity, driving away in a mini cooper all the while I protested that he would never find another girl who came from the time of mammoths.

Six days since TMI left for his three week internship, and I interpret this dream as the beginnings of some painful sex withdrawals. I know I mentioned an intention to be an honorable girlfriend but promiscuity seems to glitter through my veins regardless of where I firmly set my brain.

I'm spending my mornings pulling espressos and sugaring waffles, trying to pass time and keep myself safely distracted. Everyone who works in this cafe is insane. Firstly because they are all a rare breed of French Jesus-freaks; and secondly for a hoard of individual quirks and eccentricities. Alex, who I'm working with today, is staggeringly cross-eyed. He moves around the kitchen flawlessly, but just looking at him can induce a headache.

We're in a lull at the present moment and he's sitting across from me intently reading "La Bible, Le texte original avec les mots d'aujourd'hui." His computer next to him has the words "Jesus et Alex" rotating in 3D for his screensaver. Meanwhile, and unbeknownst to him, I sit mere feet away reliving sexy pre-historic blasphemy.

The Number

About a month ago, when TMI and I took a day trip to Beaune, I asked him his number. I'm at 5. Or.. 6, if we allow it to be complicated by a bit of gray area. He surprised me by responding that he had lost count; accredited to the fact that he was often victim to casual tristes and flirtation that got a bit out of hand. I was a little taken aback by this, maybe even a little jealous or concerned, but probably enjoyed thinking my partner was well liked and well in the game.

Last night, however, as it was the night before he leaves for his three week internship, we got in a little tiff about him not trusting me. He seems fairly convinced that in his absence I'm bound to have sex with anything and everything that moves in Dijon before he gets back. (I think I can partially blame IFFTP for this. If you're not in the know, TMI has found it and, as I for the most part REFUSE to be censored, it's often a strain on our relationship.) Anyway, I was eventually driven to protest that he had had a much more devious history than I. And then, face partially smooshed into his pillow, he said, "no, actually, I lied."

"What? Really? Why? ..well give me a number."

"What like, a real number?"

"..Not a fake one."

"Do I have to count you?"

"No. -Yes. I don't care just tell me."

Turns out, the answer was one. And she had come shortly before TMI and I met. Frankly, I'm shocked. But that would explain a lot. Does it matter? Should it matter? It takes a bit of a transition to go from thinking you were dating someone with one lifestyle only to discover it was one totally the opposite. But who's to say this isn't better? -That it doesn't speak to an honorable character or.. something?

All the same, I put him on the train an hour ago and kissed him sincerely on the platform. Time to stretch my muscles of fidelity for the next 3 weeks; despite my rugged past I plan to put my best foot forward at being faithful.

The R Word

Things are definitely on the brink of domestic with TMI, which, I'm gonna be honest, has me concerned for IFFTP. Yes, I desperately want to go to back to Paris and share my passionate encounters with the French God of Sex with the blog world. Yes, I want to go out and make eyes/brush up against/ and be shockingly forward in the language of love with the young and hot French populace.

But lets be honest. When a guy, THE SAME GUY, is sleeping in your bed 3-4 times out of the week, throwing a modest tantrum when you accidentally call him by another man's name, and frankly stating that he will A "hate you" and B "never see you again" when you ask about sex with others, exactly how single can you be, really?

So what is it? What exactly defines a relationship? When the jealously starts? When the exclusivity starts? Or did it start somewhere back there with the sex?

There was no verbal confirmation, but I have to say it: I think I might be in a relationship. And what's worse, when he isn't around, I'm starting to miss him. I predict an abrupt readership plummet by at least 15%.

How Much Compromise for Courtesy?

I've been communicating with some potential Paris roommates who seem like lovable and accomplished kids. So! I sent Handsome Parisian a message asking if I could stay with him for a night while scouting the place. He said I was welcome anytime.

The next step was to ask TMI if he'd stop seeing me if I did the above with the almost-certainly subsequent sex. It was an honest question and, I felt, a necessary one, since whatever the outcome he'd be reading about it on the blog. I said it with a smile and expected a casual "yes" or "no."

He said that if I slept with someone else, he would A) "hate me" and B) "never see me again." Well. As cut n' dry as that answer is, it took all night and a lot of drama just to get it out.

It surprised me how many times my mind returned to attempting to do the whole thing on the sly. What kind of person does that make me? I still have a pretty substantial soft spot for that Paris kid. I told TMI that I'm simply not ready for exclusivity, but that I didn't want to stop seeing him either.

I want to get one thing straight here: I am sympathetic to the concept and perfect plausibility of fidelity. I think it comes naturally with a certain kind of love. And I mean the really good kind. I would have been effortlessly exclusive with Harry. Love just does that. It inspires a team mentality; refusing someone else, even the most handsome of someone elses, just feels like a score or a goal. You go out for pizza afterwords and celebrate.

I'm still unconvinced that TMI is good for me and concerned that warming up to him might be a mistake. "When does the art of compromise become compromising?" How much of ourselves should we be willing to compromise, out of respect, if we risk loosing our own values? Is a potential relationship that may not be a perfect fit worth it? Or, for that matter, are TMI and I already in a relationship and I'm just being a jerk..?