The Whole Meal

Love is the GOD, Lust is the TEMPLE

Dr. P. S. Jagadeesh Kumar

A very long time ago, I had a conversation with the Work Crush regarding beauty. It was about architecture, but also not. We agreed that beauty is an invitation, it inspires that split second decision to look a little closer. It’s that looking closer that makes the difference. Beauty gets attention, but then that structure, or person, has to offer something more to keep that attention.

The Work Crush and the Work Bestie were each beautiful in their own way. The Work Crush was the one who had sparked my interest though. It was not mutual. The Work Crush literally did not know I was a girl. At one point, it came up that I had a roller derby bout the same day as a work event. 

“You do roller derby?!”
“Yeah.”
“Women’s roller derby?”

How was I even supposed to respond to that? Did he think I was playing men’s roller derby? Not that I was playing, I was reffing, but I was training to make the roster someday. Which isn’t the point. The point is that the Work Crush had not noticed that I was a female. On the one hand, ouch. But on the other hand, phew. I didn’t want to start anything there. 

We had an intern who I would make sit between us at meetings just so I couldn’t be too stupid. I found myself laughing too loud, too much, at all of his jokes, touching his arm too often, forgetting how words worked when his leg pressed against mine under the table. I don’t like the version of me I become when I have a crush like that. I lose my wit, my sass, every aspect of me that might be fun to flirt with dissolves into doe-eyed goo. I’m replaced with this weird version of myself that touches my hair too much and giggles a lot. Yuck.

Chances are I could have convinced the Work Crush I was a girl. Lonely men tend to be easy to get attention from. And we were working together during a what seemed to be a lonely chapter in his life. If I’d wanted to be a booty call, I think I could have finagled that. I have no interest in being a booty call, or in convincing someone to like me.

My kink is being loved. You want a piece of this? Come at me, bro. Show me what you’ve got, what you intend to do with it. You want a piece of me? Start with my heart. Otherwise, don’t waste my time. The Work Crush is kind, thoughtful, passionate, brilliant, and talented. He and I have talked for hours about architecture, poetry, and human nature. He’s amazing. I find there is surprisingly little correlation between someone being an amazing person and their offering an amazing relationship.  

I’m happy to low-key wingman for the Work Crush. I sent an extra batch of chilaquiles with him to have at his place when a special someone came to visit. The Work Bestie didn’t understand how I could help someone I had a crush on to score points with another girl. The Work Crush is my friend. I love him and want to see him happy. Also, I never had any intentions towards him and that’s some weird sociopathic nonsense to try to hoard people you aren’t even trying to be a thing with. So yeah, I was sincerely rooting for my crush and his woman.

Well after I’d started considering them an item, I witnessed the Work Crush introducing this woman as his friend. That didn’t sit right with me and I haven’t forgotten it. Contrast that to the Work Bestie who you couldn’t know for ten minutes without knowing he was in a relationship with his girlfriend before me. Also, the Work Bestie seemed to figure out all on his own that I was a girl, and would casually comment to me about things like how I’d probably be very easy to live with. That’s what I wanted. They were both handsome, both loving, both good friends to me. I chose the one who came at me, made me feel wanted, even pursued (respectfully), on occasion. 

I picked dreamy over steamy, not that steamy had ever made me an offer. The jury’s still out on whether or not the Work Crush knows I’m a girl.  It’s just that I will always choose building something over killing time. The Work Bestie had all the hallmarks of great relationship material, but with a lot of those being things that I observed in the relationship he was in, it took me a long time (and their final breakup) before I gave him any consideration that way. I kept hoping to meet an older, single, version of him, until he became an older, single, version of himself.

Though he wasn’t that exactly. By the time we were both single and working together regularly again, we’d each been through a lot. It’s so scary taking off one’s armor and letting another person in. We were each more skittish going into this relationship than I think either of us had been previously. We knew how much it could hurt.

As far back as I can remember I was a hopeless romantic, wanting a partner in crime more than anything. To be fair, before puberty I just wanted a platonic accomplice, but always I wanted to have that one special person who gets me, who has got my back. I was never built to be the girl in the horror movie who screams in a corner helplessly while the monster goes mano a mano with my man. Nah. I want to be partners no matter what. If my person is fighting for their life I’m gonna be right beside them swinging at their enemies. When I’m in, I’m all in. There is no à la carte menu. I am the whole meal.

So, yeah, the Work Bestie was not the first to catch my eye. It took me a long time to think of him like that. First I had to feel safe enough to let down my guard. It was only after the Work Bestie had won my heart that my body followed.

It wasn’t his beauty that felt like the invitation though. He made me feel safe. That’s what started everything. Safe led to love led to lust and the more we acted on any of those, the more intensely I felt it all. It took years, but the Work Bestie became my number one crush, my love, my person. Even if he was introducing me as a friend.

Honey, touch me
With my clothes on
Sweetie, Baby
Longer than you do
Honey, kiss me
With your mouth closed
Just like you love me
And I love you

Gilda Radner
Honey Touch Me

Gilda Radner – Honey Touch Me – HQ Stereo from Great Clips on Vimeo.