Rob is a geek. There's no way around the fact. Before we lived together, we spent a good deal of our Couple Time either having sex or trying to have sex (we saw each other mainly on the weekends, and we both lived in close quarters with parents; discretion depended on a lot of planning). One Sunday evening, while preparing to leave my mom's apartment, he sat on the edge of my bed to lace his All Star high-tops after some of the most tiring and satisfying love we'd ever made. I was still lying naked beneath the sheet, basking and admiring his face in profile. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he announced, "Hey! Only twelve more days till Skyrim comes out!" For the non-gamers reading, Skyrim is -- well, this. He was charged up for several months before its release; and I love playing it now, too. But as I listened to him prattle on about slaying dragons and haggling with shop-keepers in a virtual world, I marveled that this was the same man who'd just rocked my world for over an hour. I guess I've always had a soft spot for geeks, though, and in a way, his enthusiam was as adorable to me as his timing was annoying.

I still have those moments occasionally. Sometimes we even have little "chats" during sex, which we both find amusing but enjoy immensely. I've learned not to take it personally if his mind wanders during or immediately after sex. In fact, rather than sapping the romance from the moment, as I would expect, these conversations tend to make the concept of intimacy more complete for me. True, I sometimes wish he were a bit more of a "firecracker" in certain areas, if you catch my drift... But he's a really sweet guy who cares a lot for me, and at the end of the day, I don't want anyone else.

This whole ::relationship:: thing is still new and confounding to me. Sometimes I revert to acting like a child without meaning to or realizing the damage I'm causing at the time. It drives me crazy to feel so out of control. I recently got back in touch with an ex, Michelangelo, in order to make Rob jealous, because Rob received a few drunk texts from a girl he once slept with (whose entrails, frankly, I would like to mangle). I thought that if the tables were turned and he knew how it felt for one of his girlfriend's ex-lovers to contact her at midnight, he might reconsider staying friendly with this other chick. Unfortunately, I failed to consider that the reasons Michelangelo and I stopped talking in the first place might still be present between us, no less so for the time that's passed since we last spoke. So. As anyone with any relationship experience would expect, my plan backfired. Long story short: I let my immaturity turn me into a controling, freakazoidal bitch -- not only in Rob's eyes, but also in his ex's, in Michelangelo's, and worst of all, in my own. So though I've said the necessary apologies, I still feel about an inch tall. Not that I'm ungrateful for the lesson, don't get me wrong. I just wish learning it didn't have to suck so badly.

But, I suppose that's part of Life. And so is make-up sex.

Rob and I have been in our apartment in Waltham for a couple weeks. Things are great so far. He's mostly very easy to live with. The night before we moved in, he played a song for me -- something he taped on his Sony recorder when he arrived home from our first date, just improvised lyrics sung to a simple strum pattern, expressing his reaction upon meeting me -- and I felt sure things would go well for us here. Even in the heat of a disagreement, I have proof that I've been in his art from the beginning, a reminder that my weirdness hasn't yet scared him off, and I remember to be patient when I feel frustrated. It was the best gift I've ever received. I wish I could write a little more about the times we've had here already, because I'm really enjoying myself. Last night, for instance, we went to a rave with two of Rob's cousins, then Rob and I came home and made love until 6:30 this morning. ;) Unfortunately, though, I need to tidy the apartment before my sister gets here for her weekend visit. I'm super excited to see her. Till next time...

So. Rob took me seriously regarding our little oral-sex issue. ...Very seriously. Wow. Last night, he gave me one of the most satifying experiences of my life. I didn't even have to ask him to go down on me! I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd be afraid he'd gotten some practice since last weekend. ;P And I'm so relieved knowing that he's willing to improve in that area, especially since we're moving in together tomorrow. I've tried not to be a bitch about it to him, but I know I'm not the greatest at concealing my emotions, and I doubt it would've been much fun dealing with a frustrated, despondent girlfriend on the day we're taking such a huge step in our relationship. Now, I'm just fucking excited! He may have waited a lot longer than I would've liked, but it still means the world to me that he finally put his tongue where his mouth was (er, something like that) and gave me what I've been craving. It makes me feel more secure about the rest of our relationship, that he means it when he says he wants to please and make me happy.

And now, my mom and sister are on their way to pick me up for dinner at Koto. Gotta get ready! I'm so excited for tomorrow!!!

I was too harsh on Rob in my last entry. I think I've become so frustrated with a couple aspects of our sexual relationship that I'm losing perspective on the rest. That's not to say that the oral thing isn't still a potential deal breaker, because it is, and he's aware of this. I feel majorly taken for granted; it's time to either start learning what I need or watch me walk out the door. I also don't plan on giving him head again until I decide I can respect myself while doing it rather than feeling like a worthless blow-job machine (AKA "doormat"). But every guy has his strengths and weaknesses, his pros and cons, and all told, Rob is by far the best partner I've had, despite being the youngest and the least experienced. So though we're on shaky ground at the moment, I give him props. I hope he rises to the challenge soon.

...Ouch

My nether regions are very sore tonight, the result of one of Rob's rare and particularly poor attempts at performing oral sex. He just doesn't get it, does he. He doesn't understand why I feel resentful that after nine months, during which I've spent countless hours sucking him off and learning what he likes, he still doesn't have the first clue how to touch me between the legs. He feels frustrated! Well. Let me get my box of tissues. Does he ever consider how frustrated I must feel, giving head night after night to a man who never goes down on me, doesn't know the meaning of the word "foreplay," and has never once in nine months brought me to orgasm? I'm not putting up with it. I'm not a lazy lover, and I don't deserve one. If he can't learn how I need to be touched, he's not going to be touching me anymore -- and I'm certainly not touching him again until he steps up his game. He'd best understand there are plenty of fish in the sea who don't mind the taste of pussy, and this is a potential deal breaker. I guess I understand other women's complaints after all. But he still has a great cock...

Hung the Fuck Over

Ugh. My head. My stomach.

Last night at a party I got drunk and kissed a gay guy (with his permission, don't worry). I got caught up in his glamour and wanted to cross it off the bucket list. Unfortunately, Rob wasn't too happy to hear that my mouth had made contact with another guy's, gay or not, and I understand his jealousy. I mean, I'd be upset if he kissed a lesbian. But between you and me, I must still admit to loving how alcohol lowers my inhibitions. Despite years of religious conditioning, I'm not exactly the straight-and-narrow type by nature, and it's nice to indulge my wild side once in a while. I guess I just have to be careful now that I'm in a relationship. I think it also bothered Rob that I accepted a ride home from a married coworker yesterday and smoked a bowl with him in the car. While I don't believe this guy would ever cross any physical boundaries, at work he's rather open about crushing on me, and Rob knows the types of paths my mind wanders down when I'm high. For Christ's sake, I all but suggested a three-way with his best guy friend one night when we were all smoking in the hot tub. Sometimes I worry that I'm not really ready to be anything more than someone's fuck buddy. Rob is the heavy commitment type. I want to have fun and collect as many crazy experiences as possible before I die. But I really do love him. What if I fuck things up between us? How is this going to work? What am I willing to sacrifice? What is a long-term relationship worth to me? What are these potential experiences worth?

Well, for now I'm going to look for some juice and headache medicine.