Testing, testing…

Oi. I can be my own worst enemy…but we all knew that already! And I don't dare call my recent shenanigan (singular) a "calculated risk" because I essentially ignored calculations and simply went forward with a foolhardy plan: GMP wanted a professional massage and I said yes. And it was very professional…remarkably so. Once my gear was put away, I opened conversation with, "Everything I was taught about Boundaries and Ethics in massage school points to this being potentially a Very Bad Idea but…we did well. And…I don't think my boyfriend would be real pleased either."

I know I had something(s) I needed to prove to myself and to Gerald; promises were made that I just have to fulfill…for our mental health and for the reassurance of childhood friends we share. The roots run deeper than the fluctuations in our daily lives. We will all need each other again; best not to fuck with that.

I cringe at the possibility that I could have really fucked with my Bliss though. If my Love weren't such a Good Sport, I really don't know how this could have played out. I DO know that I won't be withholding any further exchanges with GMP from my Love. (I once explained to GMP that what I mostly felt for him was "agape"…quite reassuring to fully express just that and have it be of benefit to him.)

'Feeling very Blessed and loved…it all feels unconditional in all directions. Yum.