I love Robbie enormously. But everyone, Robbie especially, agrees that I ought to spend time with myself right now.

Hard CandyThis means cleaning house, organizing things, earning money, rediscovering real life friends, and all the other things people with full existences do. It also means “cultivating laziness”, as I persist in believing that the writer Robert Penn Warren once said despite a total lack of evidence that he did. It means silliness and time with my cats and grandiose projects and free rein to my curiosity. It absolutely means downloading Madonna’s Hard Candy.

And it means something deeper. For the last two years I have devoted at least half of every conversation to talk of Robbie. (This might be why I am short on friends, by the way.) He takes up a tremendous amount of my mental space. He is my best friend. But for quite a while it has felt like there’s no one in here, inside me.

June Miller untitledBuried in work and frittering away my spare time, I infrequently noticed my increasing sense of emptiness; when I did, I expressed it as feeling either tired or busy. All the things I might have done for myself when I was down got pushed to the side—not because of D/s or because of distance or because of anything else between us, but because I was letting my relationship with him take up the place where my relationship with myself used to be. I haven’t had true leisure in my life apart from the time we spent together. I was counting on him, funny, exuberant, and adventurous as he can be, to provide relaxation and sunshine as well as many of the other kinds of support we expect partners will cough up for each other.

I suppose this is common enough; I certainly don’t want to make it sound tragic. The tragedy for me will be if my failure to balance my needs and our needs has torpedoed us (though believe me, there were plenty of other missiles in the water).

The point is that for the moment, instead of focusing on Robbie, I’m mostly trying to date myself.

June Miller Pink Dress

* * *

June Miller BliznietaMyself and I have only been dating for a week, so any predictions I might make about myself would be totally out of line and probably disrespectful to me, as well. On the other hand, I’ve dated me before—we are one of those on-again, off-again couples that end up together in the end, no matter how rough the ride may be. I mean, I went for years in college and after graduation not really being very close to me. I’m sure the fact that I didn’t treat me right didn’t help, but the larger problem was that I wasn’t sure how much I cared for me. Looking back I see I loved me all along, though neither I nor myself saw that at the time.

Of course, many relationships later, I realize it takes more than caring and closeness to make a good couple. It takes commitment, for one thing. I haven’t really been there for myself lately, and vice versa. And then there’s compatibility. There are lots of times where I honestly can’t stand what myself is doing. Myself can be a real bitch, and me says I can be uptight.

June Miller Roxanne

But this week, I’m diggin’ me. Mind you, I haven’t had sex with myself yet. Oh, yeah, I’ve done it with me—tons of times. I’ve had a rocking, rolicking sex life June Miller Sukubuswith myself. And I could get busy with me–sure I could. But I just don’t have the urge, and me hasn’t been sending out any feelers either. I’m guessing its awkwardness, nerves, shyness– plus the fact that myself and I haven’t been back together long. Maybe this weekend we’ll feel like getting it on. I bought some stuff for cocktails just in case, and I think I’m going to give me a nice, long, steamy shower tomorrow night—that should spice things up for me, I think.

Until then, I and me have just been hanging out. I’ve made myself lots of meals, which me really appreciates—I can neglect feeding myself well, and me understandably resents that I’m not willing to put in that effort for myself. I’ve taken myself on walks, made efforts to dress up for me—those little things that really count. I even bought a few books for myself today; me seemed pretty touched by it, although me thinks me might return them because me knows I can get them cheaper on Amazon.

The one thing I stress about is how Robbie will deal with things between me and I. Like I said, I want me in my life and I want him, but me doesn’t feel that way. Myself is kinda possessive, I have to say. Sometimes, listening to me, I think that I could happily spend the rest of my life just with myself. Most of the time, though, I see clearly that I need all kinds of relationships besides my relationship with myself to feel fulfilled. Me gets pissed off then and says I’ve been reading the Ethical Slut too much—me really doesn’t have a lot of time for poly. The important thing for myself and I though is that we’re talking. Communication, communication, communication. I feel good about where I and me are going these days.

Miss Fly

Irresistible portraits by June Miller, via fluffy Lychees. More irresistibility at her blog.