In a sense, my little falling-out with Koti was pretty ill-timed since it fell just before Valentine's Day. I had made reservations for dinner and even planned for a bouquet of roses because she's always drops hints that there are times when she'd really like to be treated as a girly girl, and the 14th seemed like the exact case for that.
While I was fretting over this, we were communicating via text. I did my best to be conciliatory. "Even if I don't see this relationship going the way you do, I'm still invested. My feelings haven't changed. We click, and you're the person that makes being in this place good."
Her initial response: "What is this American clicking?" (We watched Heated Rivalry, repeatedly, often while having a little heated rivalry of our own.)
She continued, "I juts don't know if there's a point if we have different objectives. Continuing this relationship when we see it differently feels... delusional."
"Well, let's talk about it," I said. Talking this out is one of the things we do best, and at the very least it often becomes foreplay for us.
February 13th, she arrived at my door dressed in a suit with her hair -- which is just above shoulder-length -- pulled back into a right ponytail (pigtail? Can you have one pigtail?) with a dozen roses in hand.
I eyed her up and down. "You're early."
"I couldn't wait," she said. "Let's get dinner."
We went to a cantina. She loves getting Mexican food because it's not something she was able to enjoy as John, with all the attending heartburn.
Over carnitas tacos, she apologized -- or gave the Koti version of an apology without ever actually saying "sorry," -- for "blindsiding" me with her proposal. "I can see how that must have seemed abrupt."
She went on, "I realized at that time that I've lived a long life and that if I go back to being John, then I really won't be getting any younger, and I just wanted to take the happiness that I experience with you back with me to that life."
"Okay," I allowed, "But in that life you have a wife."
"I think Mary and I are prepared for an amicable split. There will be... negotiations, of course, we don't have a prenup, but we also don't have children together, so that simplifies things. I think it will be easier than ending my first marriage. You've always told me I should end things with Mary."
"I've told you to be honest with her," I interjected, "And to do what would be best for both of you."
"Synonyms," she said. "If I become John again, I just want some assurances that it's for somebody and something, not jumping into the great unknown."
"And me? I could be anybody, anywhere," I said, "There's no guarantee that we'll be compatible."
"I don't consider that a problem," Koti said, "I think at this point, Mary would be the only person on Earth I don't want to make love to. Well, her and PJ."
"That doesn't preclude the possibility that I'll be in a body where I can't, or wouldn't deem it appropriate, to couple with you."
"We can make it work," she said tactfully. "It won't always have to be physical."
"You're disregarding the needs of other people," I said, "What if I become a married man, what are my responsibilities? What if I become a little kid or I have to move to Texas?"
"You think I'm not cognizant of all that?" she balked. "We could go years without seeing each other but still remain faithful in spirit."
"You're asking for assurances and guarantees and commitments I can't make," I said, "I'm trying to be reasonable here."
"I'm asking for effort," she retorted. "I'm asking you to defy that thing in your mind or your heart that says you have to be safe and careful and behave yourself, and instead do what you want. For me."
"I can't," I said, "I just can't. All we can do is play it by ear, take it as it comes."
She sat back and gazed down at the floor behind me. "I guess I just think that what we have is special. So help me, Marc, I'm in love with you. And whatever face you had, all you would have to do is say two sentences and I'd fall back in love with you. In my wildest dreams, we go the distance. You find a life and a body that suits you and you become mine and we wouldn't have to wonder what the future held because we were living in it. You can't tell me that doesn't sound good."
I sighed. "It does." I went on, "And if it happens, it happens, but like you said, you won't be getting younger and the idea of waiting for me to be in a life where that's possible... we're at an impasse here, as to whether we think that's possible. I can't marry you because I can't make a promise. I have to take my life day by day, year by year."
Her mouth tightened and her expression became focused. "Let's not talk about it anymore," she said. "Let's just enjoy our meal."
We did and though there was a shadow over the rest of the evening, eventually we did find a way to communicate about something else and lighten up.
By the time we got back home, we were back in our usual revved-up mode. In retrospect, I think it was Koti's idea to show me what I might be missing out on if I passed up her offer, because that night we had, I would say, the most sex, by quantity, of any single night of our relationship in any form. As soon as we finished, she was ready to initiate it again, in some other position. She used her body to the fullest that night, and I Dustin's.
And then when it was all over, around 3 AM, she sat up and began dressing. When I asked what she was doing, she sighed. "I think that we've just done it for the last time. As fun as this is, if you don't see a future here, I'm not sure I can continue. It hurts too much to think we're only killing time until an inevitable parting. So let's just part."
With that, she went down to the basement. When her flowers arrived the next day, I took the card off and told PJ to give them to "Cassie." I let the single girls in the house have the dinner reservation. And I've been sleeping alone, again.
For what it's worth, I don't think this is the end of me and Koti, or rather Marc and John. I just think we have very different ideas about what a marriage is and what a promise is and what this Inn-life is. I hate to be so wishy-washy, but I'm definitely feeling like, "If it's meant to be it'll be," and if this is where she wants to blow the whole thing up, then we're into "not meant to be" territory. I'm not saying I won't fight for it if I think it's right, but right now it's simply too many unknowns to make any kind of forecast about the future.
-Marc/Dustin
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