Lydia

For the longest time after the thought that I could be a lesbian first crossed my mind I was constantly questioning myself. The noise in my head at that point was deafening. Things like,

"What if I am just going through a "thing"?"

"Maybe I am just unhappy in my marriage and I am mistaking that for attraction towards women because they are the ones I talk to about my unhappy marriage. They are the ones giving me kindness and a patient ear."

"What if I just think I am attracted to women but when it comes down to "go time" I will turn away."

"Maybe I am just lonely."

When I met the first woman I was to have a meaningful relationship with I fell hard. Much of the clutter in my head disappeared. I knew I truly loved this woman. But because of the distance between us, me here in Boise and her so close to the Atlantic that if she took one step backward she would fall into it, the physical worries were still there. I knew I was attracted to her but was worried about how I would react if the chance would ever come for us to meet in person.

As our relationship continued I became more and more worried and nervous about the physical aspect of loving a woman. Once my girlfriend and I made plans to meet I became fearful. I was fearful that it wouldn't feel the way I wanted it to. That she would be able to tell I wasn't attracted to her afterall. I can't tell you how many nights I sat awake scared to death. I didn't know how to kiss a woman.

So one night while expressing this fear to Annie we came to the conclusion that I just needed to kiss a woman and get it over with. We took off in search of the perfect kiss. I found it in shape of a woman named Lydia. She started a conversation with me late in the evening. I told her about myself. When she found out I had 4 kids and a husband she was ready to make her exit. Who needed complications like that? I reassured her that I wasn't looking for Ms. Right. So she stayed and we talked more. She got a kick out of how shy I was. Finally frustrated she grabbed my chin with her fingers and asked, "Do you want me to kiss you?" I knew it was now or never but I couldn't bring myself to ask for/admit what I wanted. Instead of answering I fell into her lips. Dear sweet jesus...

I understand Gretchen (a character in a novel I am reading in blogland) when she found herself liplocked on the floor of HD thinking to herself, "God, kissing a woman is fucking unbelievable.”

Every part of my body was electrified. I couldn't believe how incredibly soft and wonderful this stranger was. It was my physical comfirmation. Yep, I liked women. I really did know my heart and my body. I could trust my reactions, my thoughts. I reveled in her kisses. I buried my face in her hair, her neck. To this day I still can't believe how "right" that kiss felt.

Not but moments after we kissed I burst out crying. The culmination of fear, doubt and relief and maybe a few whiskey and cokes... The realization that yes I really was a lesbian and now what? All just too much for me. All too much for Lydia too. She apologized and left for less dramatic pastures. I understood and was relieved really. After all, I had a girlfriend. I wasn't looking for love.

Truth is I don't remember what she looked like. But I remember what she felt like. What I felt like. There is a line in the movie Prince of Tides. You have to wade through the entire movie to hear it but I think of it often and it reminds me of Lydia.

Tom Wingo: At the end of every day I drive through the city of Charleston and I cross the bridge that will take me home. I feel the words building inside me, I can't stop them, or tell you why I say them, but as I reach the top of the bridge these words come to me in a whisper. I say these words as a prayer, as regret, as praise, I say: Lowenstein, Lowenstein.

Lydia, if she remembers me at all will probably remember me as the mixed up drama dyke she kissed at the bar one night. But I will always remember Lydia. She was amazing and very kind to this drama dyke who left that evening clearly not mixed up at all.