Buttercup, Binding, and Being
Last night, I had the most incredible date in the world.
Also, the first of many dates I’ll have with this girl, who for some reason likes me enough to have agreed to be my girlfriend, and who will be around for quite some time if I have anything to say about it. I’ve nicknamed her buttercup, so for consistency that’s what her codename here will be. I’m kinda a little head over fucking heels for her.
Around her, I’m completely myself. I’ve thought I was with people before, but… it hasn’t been like this. Talking to her is like writing a blog post, just sharing whatever passing thought. I want to hear everything she has to say, no matter how random or deep or personal or impersonal. I can’t stop smiling– my face literally hurts because I haven’t stopped smiling since we started talking. There’s no pressure to be or do anything other than whatever occurs naturally–including complete acceptance of my, shall we say, offbeat gender identity.
I love how feminine she is, and I love that she brings out the effeminate side of me– but has never once referred to me as a girl, except to call me her girlfriend, which is totally okay (because…really… there’s not a gender neutral word other than partner or significant other and both of those feel awkward to use in the beginning stages). Telling her I was genderqueer didn’t feel like outing myself either, it felt like telling her I was 23. Just… something we discussed, in the first fact-finding discussions, you know.
Oh, and yeah. So… basically. Hi. I’m goofy and sappy and grinny right now. She’s puuuurrrrttttyyyy. And she’s mine