A week ago, I told you about Suzie’s long, complicated conversations with Carrie, a girl friend [not a girlfriend … the space between the two words is critical] to whom Suzie felt profoundly attracted and who acted like she [Carrie] was at least as attracted to Suzie. And I told you that I found myself giving Suzie advice on how to date girls.
So last Saturday I got an update. No, in the end Suzie didn’t implement any of my advice directly, but she and Carrie had had some more long conversations and had arrived at a place they could both live with. Suzie was in a much better mood when we met for our volunteer work.
A much better mood? Sure … she told me all about her conversations with Carrie. She also laughed too hard at my jokes. Afterwards we were walking home, and we came to the intersection where she turns one way and I turn the other. In the past we have often sat down just off the sidewalk and talked for a couple of hours before each of us has gone our own way. Once or twice she has come with me. Once or twice I have walked her home. But I wouldn’t have thought to say that we’ve established a pattern. Anyway this time we got to the intersection and I asked, “Shall we sit or walk?” She answered, with a tone of slight surprise in her voice, “Well can we go to your place?” (As if to say, “Why are you even asking me such a thing?”)
Of course we could. Did.
Funny thing … she’d also been complaining that her back was stiff. She’d been trying to do some kind of exercises or dance moves or something earlier in the week and found that her back was absolutely locked up so she couldn’t. What’s a gentleman to do? Of course I offered to rub her back.
We got to my place, and almost straightaway she lay down on the floor. And I started to massage.
Her back.
Her shoulders.
Her neck.
Her scalp.
Her feet.
Her calves.
I pointedly skipped her butt and her thighs. Maybe next time. But I think I got every other part of her body that I could reach without rolling her over. At the end I was softly stroking her back and running my fingers through her hair. Apparently she was fine with all this. But finally it was getting late and I was about to doze off so I offered to drive her back to her apartment. She gave me as fond a hug as she could from the passenger seat before disembarking. And I assume that next Saturday, as we walk home, I won’t even have to ask what she wants to do at the intersection. I assume we’ll head to my place and I’ll give her another massage.
It’s funny. She tells me about breaking up with her boyfriend. She tells me that she doesn’t want to have sex with men – didn’t even when she was with her boyfriend – and that she feels more comfortable with women. She tells me that her father molested her when she was younger. (And while I don’t know how old her father is, I do know she’s about the age of my kids! Or just enough older to be of legal age.) And yet she’s obviously very comfortable around me.
Of course it would be flattering to tell myself that it’s just because I’m somehow better than other guys. More likely is that she doesn’t have enough experience to compare me with that many guys, and I’m probably slower and more patient than her boyfriend … or her father, apparently. Also, I really don’t assume that we’ll end up fucking. Yes, I’ve imagined it sometimes when I’m looking for a fantasy to whack off to. More soberly, I recognize that it is one plausible end point to the arc that our friendship has taken so far. But it’s not the only possible endpoint. In fact, since I’m not looking for another relationship right now, I really won’t be sad if we keep our clothes on. In the end it would be a lot better than some scenarios that involve fucking but only at the cost of high emotional drama.
Anyway, I started to wonder just how much courting behavior I have performed for her over the months, leaving aside the question how much she has returned. And the list I came up with is not trivial.
- Probably the most important courting behavior is that I listen to her. I ask clarifying questions, but then I listen to her at great length. I make it clear that she is seen and heard.
- I invite her to join me at receptions for local artists. (One a couple months ago, and another this coming weekend.)
- Occasionally – when it is makes sense – I offer her rides. (She doesn’t own a car and scarcely drives.)
- I give her food. (Dinner at my place, homemade jam for Christmas, meals at our volunteer work.)
- I give her drink. (Wine with the dinner she had at my place, brandy at least once when she came over to talk … and I think there has been more. Not sure.)
- I hug her.
- I touch her casually in conversation, as if to make a point.
- I rub her back.
- I rub her scalp.
- I rub her feet.
- I stroke her hair.
Those last four date only from last weekend, but I think they are significant. She accepted them all without so much as a murmur. What’s more, I break them out distinctly because I think each one represents a different level of intimacy. Certainly to rub her scalp is a full step more intimate that to rub her back. To rub her feet is a full step more intimate than to rub her scalp. And to run my fingers softly through her hair … well, tell me if you disagree but I figure that is almost foreplay. Or damned close.
I’ve been watching this friendship for some time, to see where it goes. For my part, I know that these days I’m really not interested in the baggage that comes along with a relationship but I deeply love flirting and courting behavior. For her part, … well, I know what she says but I also know she’s really young. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she doesn’t know herself terribly well yet … God knows, I didn’t know myself when I was twenty-two. Is it possible that we might end up in bed? Yeah, it’s possible. I’m not sure it would be a good idea, but that won’t stop me from rubbing her back and stroking her hair in the meantime.
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