In love with love

Noah and I talked about this yesterday. I am… not your average hunter. I know many predatory hunters. They want to feel powerful. They want to have a long list of prey because it makes them feel successful. I want to fall in love with everyone.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the fact that a lot of what I seek in sleeping with people is the ability to love someone like you a bit more. I have a number of hangups around “types of people” that I genuinely want to get over. I want to be able to treat people like individuals and I do that best by learning one story at a time in detail so I can understand how it varies from the “general”.

I want to see the patterns and understand the variations. I don’t know about you… but I’m not as smart as I’d like to be. It takes me a long time to figure these things out about folks.

I learn about people best when I fall in love with them at least a little. Is it infatuation? Is it twitterpation? Is it love?

What is love?

Is love wanting to touch someone? Is love wanting people to be happy even if that doesn’t involve you a little bit? Is love wanting people to take up as much space as possible? Is love hoping that this person will do things both bad and good so long as they act and exist and are.

Yesterday a sarcastic joke was made about all the bodies I want to get under. Noah and Pam sat around and kinda counted on their fingers and we decided it was best not to put a number on the number of bodies I want to get under.

If it had come from someone else I might have felt insulted or judged. They were delighted. I felt loved.

How big is my roster?

Err, how do you count? Previous people I will definitely see again? Previous people I won’t see again for logistical reasons but I might if life changed? People I’m interested in pursuing but I’m not sure how they feel? People who have said they are interested but we haven’t followed up yet?

I don’t have permission to talk about very many people at this point. I wait until there is a bit more established before I ask. Some folks are a little funny about how I talk about people. I try to say nice things about you and admit my fuck ups. I’m tracking me more than I’m tracking you. My mistakes are a much bigger deal to me.

Like not negotiating well on HSV. I do great at random pick up parties. I stop someone before they get close to my face. It is more complicated with people I’ve known for a long time. More complicated still if I think someone has read the users guide. I want that to substitute for negotiating and… that’s wrong. That’s so very wrong of me. I can’t do that. I am too god damn experienced to be making bullshit rookie mistakes like that. This has to be my last fuck up. Fine, I can say “I haven’t been negotiating in a few years so I messed up timing.” Ok. One last fuck up. Period. Then never ever ever again.

Yes, he forgave me and isn’t angry. I’m upset with myself. I can’t do this again. I know better.

Maybe love also means wanting people to be able to make informed, responsible, self aware choices instead of waiting until the heat of the moment when someone will feel less comfortable saying no.

That’s why I’m so pissed at myself.

No pressure, Krissy. Give people choices and you cannot pressure them to decide one way or another. They have to live in their body. They have to live with the results of their decisions…not me.

I am a hunter. I try not to be a predator. I prefer catch and release. I just want… to… borrow some of your time in a way that will hopefully be fun for you. If you indicate distress I want you off the line immediately. You clearly weren’t meant to be my prey if I upset you. I’m so sorry.

I want to love you and make you feel better about yourself. I want you to feel even more hot and sexually accomplished. I want you to feel just a little bit more like you can go out and figure out what you want after you’ve bounced off someone with such strong and particular ideas.

You don’t have to agree with me. You don’t have to be like me. (Please don’t be like me. The world doesn’t need more folks like me…)

Be you. You are so wonderful. I love you so much. I like seeing you in the world. I am glad you are here. I do want to kiss you. I am sorry that I am diseased. I have always been kissy. So I’ve had herpes since I was a toddler. Like kissy toddlers do.

Kissy Krissy. That was one of the nicer nicknames from my childhood.

Ok, knowing what I know now about the sexual abuse it’s a little creepy that everyone liked that I was so kissy as a tiny child. But oh well. Moving along.

Kissy Krissy sure sounds nicer than Pissy Krissy. Are those my choices in life? Be sexually available or be angry? I sure act like it.

No I don’t have to be sexually available. But I… uhh… kinda like sex a whole lot more than average.

Can you be a nice girl and still fuck dozens of people in a short period of time? How about hundreds throughout your lifetime? What if I hit a thousand? When do I stop being ‘nice’?

I’m curious. Depending on how this week goes I’m going to hit 130. I’m pretty sure.

I never did get my party for hitting triple digits.

So take Noah’s body count and put a one in front of it. Yeah. Promiscuous.

And I do have strong feelings for the majority of the people I sleep with. The people I don’t fall in love with are the one offs at parties. It’s why I don’t keep in touch with them. I don’t have bandwidth to fall more in love with them.

I have a deity and a submissive and a cupid and…

I’m feeling more nervous about the degree of pushing my wants I’m doing on other people. I haven’t hit their rev limiters yet.

I think.

Lots of folks I’m not going to name right now for #REASONS. But I’m thinking about you. The folks in-house got to hear your litany last night.

I think about all of you. Sometimes I wonder how one brain can keep such a diverse cast of characters straight. Good thing not all y’all are straight.

I think of it as a web because my people are very interconnected. So and so is fucking me and three other people. Of those three other people one is a good friend of mine, one is someone my other friend is fucking and… so it goes.

“Oh what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to conceive.” Thanks former lover who may not want to be named here. I will never forget you. You taught me things. Thinking about you makes me smile.

I fall in love hard and I fall in love fast and I fall in love forever. My life would be so much easier if I could stop loving my Owner. But I can’t. If my Owner showed up in the middle of the night and said, “I need you” I would need to have a forktastically compelling reason to not just follow him wherever he wanted me to go.

Because he wouldn’t ask unless it were serious and if he came to me… whatever he needed I’d do.

Just like if Jenny got into trouble I would be in Scotland in less than 48 hours no matter the cost or difficulty.

These are my people.

This web is what I have in this life. I like sleeping with my web but it isn’t a mandatory component of loving someone. I’ve never fucked Jenny and I would move mountains for her.

Jenny was there for me after the suicides. Jenny has been with me through some of the most vulnerable, horrible moments of my life. I would do anything for Jenny.

I don’t measure my love in access to someones sticky bits. But if I get to touch your sticky bits I’ll probably fall in love faster. Especially if I get to touch your stick bits and you make a big deal out of respecting my mind.

I’m yours. How and where do you want me?

I want to fall in love with you. I don’t want to marry everyone. I can’t have any more children. (Though co-raising children is the best thing ever.) I don’t…. know what I want.

I want to feel viable and loved. I want to feel like it is ok to be filled to the brim with love. I want to feel like it is ok that at any given point if you press me for who I am in love with I will start rattling off names, run out of fingers, think harder, run out of fingers again… maybe keep going….

I’m not lying about being in love with you. I can’t love myself. So I love you as a proxy. I have so much love to give. Yes, you get some of it.

Is it creepy? I hope not. I try to have boundaries around it. There are some people I pester constantly on IM because I feel comfortable nudging them for attention. There are people I barely contact except to arrange in person time. There are people I want to go show up with them and I don’t because I have trouble not climbing all over them like a jungle gym. It depends on the dynamic and my mental state.

Sometimes I don’t touch people more because I feel gross and polluting and I don’t want to hurt you.

That’s complicated.

It is weird managing the fact that I’d like to crawl into way more beds than I do but I’m afraid of hurting people.

I don’t want to hurt you.

I love you. I am so sorry when I fuck up. I am sorry when I make stupid assumptions because someone else would be ok with x so why are you having your own opinion?

I’m so sorry I ever invalidate your right to be seen as an individual person with an individual experience. I’m working on getting better. I am better than I was. I need to get better still.

I want to be able to walk into a room with you and see you as the sole person there. The only one I need to adjust my energy to, whatever that means. Even when I’m in the room with multiple people. How do I do this? Oh it’s hard.

But I want to try.

You are worth it. You are worth seeing and loving.

I love you.

2 thoughts on “In love with love

  1. Michelle

    This is insightful and complicated.

    I struggle so much trying to understand what love is for me. I’m thinking of that country song you played on Monday…Love is stupid? I feel like that a lot.

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