Some of you may be familiar with Alice's chart on the L Word -- you know the one where she does that patient zero thing where she connects the dots between lovers.
My ex, P, and I used to call this "The Transitive Property of Love" -- you remember the transitive property?
A=B, B=C, so A=C.
Now, the math sites I've consulted warn against applying the transitive property to other settings. But believe me, it does apply here.
I fuck K. K fucks D. i fuck d.
Oh folks, this happens lots.
What is more fun is when,
I fuck Ka. Then Ka fucks Ko. Then Ko fucks P. Then I fuck P.(Ka got mad at Ko then, cuz she hated P at the time, but I digress.)
This my friends, is the Transitive Property of Love in action.
All of the aforementioned are true scenarios.
I remember once I dated a bisexual girl. I was amazed that she had no idea where any of her past boyfriends were or what they were doing. In fact, she never spoke to them, never saw, and never even ran into them and she didn't want to either. It gave me a newfound understanding of straight people (some anyway -- I know a few of them have the same cozy circles we do).
This was amazing to me. All my lovelife long, I had existed in a world where not only was breaking up a matter of endless negotiation, detente and agony, but you were destined to see your ex, umm, for the rest of your life basically, unless you took up residence in a cave in Juneau, and even then, you'd probably run into her ex on a hike in the national forest.
We have another saying, "There are only ten black dykes in the world. I've fucked five of them, and the rest are the exes of the first five."
(Another saying we have is "Straight?Straight to bed!" but that is the topic of another post.)
My dear friend Shak used to bemoan her fate at the hands of the cruel dyke karma. She would shake her fists at the sky and fall to her knees. "Will I ever be rid of my past?" she'd cry pitifully. Shak and I had met at a party where she was telling me a great story about something that happened to her and her ex. Thing is, I had already heard it, a few months earlier, in bed with, umm, her ex.
That ex left her for this other woman. They broke up five years later, and now the other woman is subletting my apartment, and going out with, umm, my ex.
Now I am usually pretty cool with all of this. I figure, when it's over, it's over. Plus I have a non-monogamous brain and come from a sexually loose culture. What can I say? But the worst for me was when my EXES STARTED DATING EACH OTHER. That really sucked. I kept imagining them whispering about me to each other, laughing at my foibles and flaws. I could barely stand to look at them. I knew they were consulting about my most intimate insides as they canoodled. It was narcissitic agony. I got over it. I'm sure my newfound maturity and their bad break up a few months later had something to do with it. Of course, now, we are all friends again.
And so it goes.
There are ten millon stories in the naked city. As I think of more cozy scenarios, I'll add them.
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