It's been a long time since I've posted, hasn't it?

I had a discussion with one of our actors about that. He said that one only writes in journals when they're unhappy, and I have been thinking about that.

I do tend to only write when I'm waxing melancholy, don't I?

Anyway.

There's a security guard who works in the building where I work, night shift, who I've been working on, romantically, for some months now.

We had a discussion today about threesomes.

He staunchly refused to even consider one (not that I was suggesting; it was a theoretical discussion).

I think it's against his religion (he's Roman Catholic, and raised in an Italian family).

I have not told him about my...somewhat colourful sexual history.

I did not mention my lover who visits me occasionally, who's married and polyamorous.

I did not tell him of my adventures in college, nor of my adventures now.

I did not tell him of my sexual orientation.

I get the impression that this guy, though in his early thirties, has a perfect, simple idea of love.

It is something I miss and something that I long to be content with, but I do not know that I ever will be.

"Sometimes all I long to be is barefoot and pregnant," Caitlin, my boss, confessed to me today. "I am constantly fighting against my nature."

And me?

I long to have no worries.

I do not care to be rich, but I care to be comfortable.

Do I see a partner in my future?

Maybe.

Do I see babies in my future?

Maybe.

I am a theatre person; it is my fate to let the winds of change blow me where they will. If they blow babies into my arms, so be it.

I have long discovered that it is best to let fate tug me where it will: many, many good things have happened to me purely by chance.

Yes, I admit it. I am the type that waits for a sign, a nudge in one direction or the other.

And yet, I wonder: what would my fair security guard think of me if he saw me in full fetish gear?

And knew I was going out like that, to a fetish ball?

What would he say if he saw in my toy box?

I think he would be terrified. I think he would stop talking to me.

I do not know whether to back of slowly from this sweet, simple man, or to pretend that I am the same, and try to be content with a sweet apple love.

.

Rosie.

Before&After