I owe you an update. All on #2 and #3 (almost totally #3, since that's where the developments are). Dear #4, my beautiful muse, I promise I'll have a package coming your way very soon, I'm just having trouble writing the letter to go with it.
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
Mid-week in all those dress rehearsals, after he plops himself next to me for notes (as per our cuddly usual), the wonderful new stage manager (who has worked with him before) puts her head on his lap. I consider, "Perhaps you, sir, are like this with all the pretty girls." Surprisingly I smile at the thought, simply because if true, this would mean I've figured him, and us, out just a little.
I gave #3 a gift on Thursday, very casually. Weeks ago, in discussing our pagan jewelry, he mentioned that he had lost his pentacle. He described it generally. A week later, I look online and find a silver pentacle that loosely fits the description at a cheap price (silver too!). I get it in the mail and wait two days before giving it to him, afraid of how he would take it. After the aforementioned lap moment, I was less anxious. Even so, I pass it too him without ceremony. Perhaps he can wear it when he meets his new coven, I say.
The next day, he's wearing it. He shows it off to me. He had just the perfect chain for it. He wore it again yesterday. He wore it again today.
Then yesterday, for opening, he bought me flowers. I was the only one in the cast to get them (though I'm positive he bought some for his wife). I was so touched.
As in rehearsal, he and I are ever so cuddly backstage between our scenes. Arms wrapped, heads on shoulders, sitting on laps, leaning in pressed between him and a wall, but never do our lips meet. Two days ago I discovered the splendid comfort of such positions, but I can't help but reflect "So kind, and so cruel." Still, I would not trade it at all.
The holds get more interesting all the time, always in little minute beautiful ways. Now when he pulls my head to his shoulder as we sit backstage, he runs his fingers through my hair. Now when we have all arms wrapped while standing in the wings, his head is pointed at the side of mine, hovering by my ear and neck. Hold are tighter... maybe.
Perhaps they would not be so much more intriguing if it wasn't for last night...
Let's jump back. Back to his wonderful wife. I feel like I met her for the first time just a few weeks ago (though I know I met both of them before this production, it shamefully had not stuck). The three of us ended up talking and drinking long after the karaoke ended. It was so hard to pull myself away. I already wanted him and couldn't figure out if I could express such at this bar with his wife there, nor was I sure he's want me too, so I focused on our conversation. Turns out she's exceptional. She's smart, talented, incredible funny, energetic, charming, a perfect match for her splendid spouse. Also beautiful. Indian. As soon as we started talking, I wanted to work with her. I want to be best friends with the both of them.
But, er, hey, is it ok if I want your husband?
Nope, never asked that. Instead, I spend time carefully trying to discover clues as to the more complex dynamics of their relationship without asking such a question.
Let's jump ahead. Ahead to last night, opening night, which is followed by a night out for dinner and drinks. Immediately following the show, I detailed to number #2 the effect that her hair plus #3's noose (explained two blogs ago) had on me. I have no qualms abut telling her I crush on her. (While I'm sure #3 knows, we don't talk about it.) Now she knows again, her eyes show coy understanding. In the evening that follows, she and I are just that little bit more affectionate. It's lovely. (While she stays at my house that night, my boyfriend is there as well, and while he did tell his amusing threesome story, we're not going there anytime soon. Nothing comes of it, all remains well.)
At dinner, there are many people at one long table. For the sake of this discussion, we are seated:
Friend #2 Friend Friend Friend
----------Table----------
Friend #1 Me Wife #3 Wife's sister
I have alcohol for the first time in weeks (rum and coke for me thanks!). I talk with #2, I talk with the beautiful wife. As my second drink arrives, as my conversation with #1 and #2 turns to the curiosities of our sexualities (#1 and me, specifically) I want very badly to flirt with this charming wife, but the conversation with her won't turn there easily (I keep in mind that her little sister is there as well. She's got family obligations to see to). Nevertheless, I try.
She gets up to greet someone far down the table, and I get to say to #3, "I hope you don't mind very much if I flirt with your wife."
Of course he makes one of those delightful faces. "No, not at all." Laughs just a little. He alludes that this means she won't be able to complain then when he flirts. "She knows, I've told her, the reason I went into theatre is that I get to kiss pretty girls." I start to put this pair of facts into my mental collection of evidence, when my boyfriend leans over (having overheard the whole exchange) and says, "That's why I love you sweetie."
I'm a lucky girl like that.
I didn't simply say that statement for #3's sake, however. Over the past hour, a powerful seed was planted. I may not want her nearly as badly as I want him (as of yet), but I definitely want both. I have never before wanted a couple. I have never before been able to fantasize so clearly about a threesome. Hell, I don't even know if she swings that way, let alone if they are open to such things. He may simply be a backstage flirt, she may simply enjoy a compliment.
When we talk all three at the bar together, there is nothing sensuous in the conversation, only mild flirtatious cues in stance, or placement of arms. I love it.
I only get one good come-on to her by the end of the evening. We stand at the bar together, just the two of us having a long conversation about theatre, and I bend down and pick up the quarter on the floor that's between us.
She says, "Look at that!"
I say, "That's what I get for checking you out."
She laughs.
I think perhaps a relationship with them would be something I'd need to cultivate. Unfortunately, there are only two weeks left of this run, and than all cuddly time is over. This could mean a rush job. Then again, I want to be friends with them for many years to come, to work together theatrically as often as possible. This means no rush job.
Too much thinking. #2 has been left talking with people she hardly knows. I owe her more attention. Also, where did my boyfriend run off to with #3 (and another gentleman we all know and love)?
The boys are out smoking, the ladies are inside talking about television, and I float between groups. The evening is lovely.
Have you ever had one of those kisses? You know, a half-kiss? A near-miss? The sort with two people who always kiss on the cheek land at least a little on the lips?
Had one of those that night with him when leaving. Seemed somewhat deliberate, but I make no assumptions.
Immediately after, I get a kiss on the cheek. Okay, nothing meant here. I'm set to go home and have sex with my boyfriend with my NY girl-crush sleeping in the basement. Oh, what might, what might...
Tonight, when leaving from our post-show dim sum (no alcohol this time!), it happens again. Still only half-lips, which I think is all on me. Next time, I'll have to let that peck hit my lips entirely.
Mid-week in all those dress rehearsals, after he plops himself next to me for notes (as per our cuddly usual), the wonderful new stage manager (who has worked with him before) puts her head on his lap. I consider, "Perhaps you, sir, are like this with all the pretty girls." Surprisingly I smile at the thought, simply because if true, this would mean I've figured him, and us, out just a little.
I gave #3 a gift on Thursday, very casually. Weeks ago, in discussing our pagan jewelry, he mentioned that he had lost his pentacle. He described it generally. A week later, I look online and find a silver pentacle that loosely fits the description at a cheap price (silver too!). I get it in the mail and wait two days before giving it to him, afraid of how he would take it. After the aforementioned lap moment, I was less anxious. Even so, I pass it too him without ceremony. Perhaps he can wear it when he meets his new coven, I say.
The next day, he's wearing it. He shows it off to me. He had just the perfect chain for it. He wore it again yesterday. He wore it again today.
Then yesterday, for opening, he bought me flowers. I was the only one in the cast to get them (though I'm positive he bought some for his wife). I was so touched.
As in rehearsal, he and I are ever so cuddly backstage between our scenes. Arms wrapped, heads on shoulders, sitting on laps, leaning in pressed between him and a wall, but never do our lips meet. Two days ago I discovered the splendid comfort of such positions, but I can't help but reflect "So kind, and so cruel." Still, I would not trade it at all.
The holds get more interesting all the time, always in little minute beautiful ways. Now when he pulls my head to his shoulder as we sit backstage, he runs his fingers through my hair. Now when we have all arms wrapped while standing in the wings, his head is pointed at the side of mine, hovering by my ear and neck. Hold are tighter... maybe.
Perhaps they would not be so much more intriguing if it wasn't for last night...
Let's jump back. Back to his wonderful wife. I feel like I met her for the first time just a few weeks ago (though I know I met both of them before this production, it shamefully had not stuck). The three of us ended up talking and drinking long after the karaoke ended. It was so hard to pull myself away. I already wanted him and couldn't figure out if I could express such at this bar with his wife there, nor was I sure he's want me too, so I focused on our conversation. Turns out she's exceptional. She's smart, talented, incredible funny, energetic, charming, a perfect match for her splendid spouse. Also beautiful. Indian. As soon as we started talking, I wanted to work with her. I want to be best friends with the both of them.
But, er, hey, is it ok if I want your husband?
Nope, never asked that. Instead, I spend time carefully trying to discover clues as to the more complex dynamics of their relationship without asking such a question.
Let's jump ahead. Ahead to last night, opening night, which is followed by a night out for dinner and drinks. Immediately following the show, I detailed to number #2 the effect that her hair plus #3's noose (explained two blogs ago) had on me. I have no qualms abut telling her I crush on her. (While I'm sure #3 knows, we don't talk about it.) Now she knows again, her eyes show coy understanding. In the evening that follows, she and I are just that little bit more affectionate. It's lovely. (While she stays at my house that night, my boyfriend is there as well, and while he did tell his amusing threesome story, we're not going there anytime soon. Nothing comes of it, all remains well.)
At dinner, there are many people at one long table. For the sake of this discussion, we are seated:
Friend #2 Friend Friend Friend
----------Table----------
Friend #1 Me Wife #3 Wife's sister
I have alcohol for the first time in weeks (rum and coke for me thanks!). I talk with #2, I talk with the beautiful wife. As my second drink arrives, as my conversation with #1 and #2 turns to the curiosities of our sexualities (#1 and me, specifically) I want very badly to flirt with this charming wife, but the conversation with her won't turn there easily (I keep in mind that her little sister is there as well. She's got family obligations to see to). Nevertheless, I try.
She gets up to greet someone far down the table, and I get to say to #3, "I hope you don't mind very much if I flirt with your wife."
Of course he makes one of those delightful faces. "No, not at all." Laughs just a little. He alludes that this means she won't be able to complain then when he flirts. "She knows, I've told her, the reason I went into theatre is that I get to kiss pretty girls." I start to put this pair of facts into my mental collection of evidence, when my boyfriend leans over (having overheard the whole exchange) and says, "That's why I love you sweetie."
I'm a lucky girl like that.
I didn't simply say that statement for #3's sake, however. Over the past hour, a powerful seed was planted. I may not want her nearly as badly as I want him (as of yet), but I definitely want both. I have never before wanted a couple. I have never before been able to fantasize so clearly about a threesome. Hell, I don't even know if she swings that way, let alone if they are open to such things. He may simply be a backstage flirt, she may simply enjoy a compliment.
When we talk all three at the bar together, there is nothing sensuous in the conversation, only mild flirtatious cues in stance, or placement of arms. I love it.
I only get one good come-on to her by the end of the evening. We stand at the bar together, just the two of us having a long conversation about theatre, and I bend down and pick up the quarter on the floor that's between us.
She says, "Look at that!"
I say, "That's what I get for checking you out."
She laughs.
I think perhaps a relationship with them would be something I'd need to cultivate. Unfortunately, there are only two weeks left of this run, and than all cuddly time is over. This could mean a rush job. Then again, I want to be friends with them for many years to come, to work together theatrically as often as possible. This means no rush job.
Too much thinking. #2 has been left talking with people she hardly knows. I owe her more attention. Also, where did my boyfriend run off to with #3 (and another gentleman we all know and love)?
The boys are out smoking, the ladies are inside talking about television, and I float between groups. The evening is lovely.
Have you ever had one of those kisses? You know, a half-kiss? A near-miss? The sort with two people who always kiss on the cheek land at least a little on the lips?
Had one of those that night with him when leaving. Seemed somewhat deliberate, but I make no assumptions.
Immediately after, I get a kiss on the cheek. Okay, nothing meant here. I'm set to go home and have sex with my boyfriend with my NY girl-crush sleeping in the basement. Oh, what might, what might...
Tonight, when leaving from our post-show dim sum (no alcohol this time!), it happens again. Still only half-lips, which I think is all on me. Next time, I'll have to let that peck hit my lips entirely.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
ilectra:
I just wanted to stop by for a min and tell you I've thought of you an awful lot today and ♥ you lots.. I'm really missed hearing from you. I hope you are well lovely lady.
tiger_fodder:
Thank you...my endless fountain of inspiration. 