I had some great fun during a recent conversation with my West Coast SB. It has been quite some time since we had a good old fashioned conversation and I can tell you it felt as great as slipping into fresh sheets: clean, but laced with potential torridity. This time was just as true to […]

I had some great fun during a recent conversation with my West Coast SB. It has been quite some time since we had a good old fashioned conversation and I can tell you it felt as great as slipping into fresh sheets: clean, but laced with potential torridity. This time was just as true to form.

We caught up on all the new and not so new things in our lives: his job change; my need for balance. We had fun discussing good news about mutual friends. I listened through the tough stuff of learning his mother’s cancer has returned with a vengeance. During our conversation, it got me thinking about the language I use with my West Coast, and all my Sunday Boyfriends for that matter.

As with all of us, I tend to shift my conversation fluidity depending on my comfort level with people. I think that has more to do with the crux of any of my relationships, Sunday or otherwise, than with my personality. That happens to each of us, doesn’t it? Feeling more at ease being you with certain people? Being guarded when the situation calls for it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not overthinking being me when I’m in a conversation with any of my Sunday Boyfriends. I’m in the moment. But for this week’s post, I took a bit of time to really think about how I say what I say with each of them. I thought about my language, my SB language. It’s part flirt, part cat and mouse, part button-pushing, sometimes serious with when the occasion calls for it, and sometimes goofy. I am usually kept on my toes, and I hope to be doing the same. Sometimes, as is the case with this recent, decadent conversation with my West Coast SB, it is part innuendo invention.

Prior to the call, my West Coast SB and I had been playing a wicked game of text tag. With the time difference, it isn’t always easy to know when to call. If I call just as my day is getting started, he is still in bed. If I call after work, chances are high he is in a meeting. If I call before going to bed, there is the possibility he may be on a date. And that last one, calling when he is on a date, could make me a wet blanket — which is something I never want to be for any of my SBs. So this time, I came right out and asked for a good time to call that wouldn’t conflict with anything “hot and heavy.” His reply was, “What? Like a BBQ grill?”

And so began the delicious hook-up euphemism…“Barbecuing.”

When we finally connected, we chuckled over the text and added to the flavorful conversation with words like, “juicy, branding iron, flipping and burned.” I could take it further, but that is between me and my West Coast SB. I will say I am happy he is finding time to “barbecue” in a safe, always-wear-your-hot-pad kind of way. I hope he enjoys every bite.

More than anything, the call was fun; a wonderful break from the everyday little things that tend to cloud the potential fun each day holds. Dare I say…it was delicious? Sure. It was delicious. The one thing I seem to be able to do with my West Coast SB, a little more easily than with most people, is tell jokes. With him, I seem to be able to let my inner Lewis Black fly. Maybe that’s because from day one we were able to not only bounce one-liners off of one another, but also find enjoyment out of being one-upped.

Being one-upped is something I don’t normally like to be. Being called out, being wrong; those are death sentence turn-offs for type-As. We have been known to kill relationships just to say we were right. But with him, I guess I’m more readily available to being wrong, or not the best, because of his reactions to our conversations. He isn’t type-A. He’s more of a combination of type-A and B; able to stand up for what he believes in, but shake off the things that don’t matter. He is wonderful at bringing out other’s best sides because he gives and takes during conversations. He listens. He adds to your discussion rather than focusing only on his point-of-view. But here is what I love about him the most…he laughs at my jokes. Out loud. I think he is one of the funniest people I know, so when he tells me I’m funny, that only feeds my making-him-laugh addiction. This addiction is as succulent as perfectly seared tenderloins on the grill. Oh yeah, I went there. Delicious.

So that brings me to a couple other SB language discoveries.

For some reason, I am able to share bits and pieces of my dark side better with certain Sunday Boyfriends than others. I have been able to dust off and reveal some of my opaqueness with my Gay SB and my High School SB. Perhaps this is because they/we have been through some of life’s tough stuff and aren’t afraid to share what we discovered? That sounds about right. If you’re lucky enough to find people like this; people who aren’t afraid to say this is what I survived, this is who I am without apology and gusto…then you should grab hold and never let go. For these are the types of people who will extend their arms to catch you in the moments when you think no one else will. But don’t forget, in order to keep them in your world, you need to be ready to do the same for them. If you’re not, then you need realize this isn’t fair and let them go.

Sharing the things that upset me the most has always been especially easy for me to do with my Email SB. It started when we were teenagers; after one of us, I can’t remember who was first, had enough courage to let down their guard and share something about our upbringing. Neither of us had the ideal…who does, right? It was two things that created our bond: 1) letting go of something we considered ugly and shameful for the first time and 2) sharing that ugliness with someone who could empathize and therefore make it a safe, non-judgmental environment. Man was I lucky to have found my Email SB.

Lucky because I discovered at an early age how much power there is in releasing something you fear. For that is what shame is, really; the hindering and misguided fear that others will judge you solely on your weakest moments. It isn’t until you let go, really say you aren’t going to give your weakest moment the most weight and move forward, that you are able to discover what you are capable of giving and being. Take away fear’s power and nothing can stop you.

Even though we had years of not speaking to one another (see my earlier type-A reference), I found our initial bond was still there after we let go of the things that drove us apart and reconnected. And that’s comforting. Knowing that sometimes in life, when you think you’d lost something forever, it is the letting go that can bring you back. So picking up where we left off, I am still able to share my “ugliness” with my Email SB and not think twice about being judged…and vice versa.

So what’s the opposite of the “ugly” side? For me it is flirting. But being how I am, I tend to get a bit more aggressive with it when I’m in the flirty mood. Don’t get me wrong…I flirt with all my Sunday Boyfriends. But my over-enthusiastic flirting can become a tad problematic for me when any of my SBs aren’t in the same flirty place I am. I try not to take their lack of flirty-gusto personally, as I do realize the timing of the flirt-bug can be fickle.

When I have the flirting fix, my Foodie and College SBs are usually my go-to guys. Maybe it’s because of our respective histories (dating one and wanting to date the other); maybe it’s because these two really know how to push my buttons and both seem to enjoy it; maybe I am a sucker for guys who seem to put up walls but for some reason have let me peek in. Whatever the reason, I have no problem letting down my guard and revealing more to them than I normally would. Dare I say it’s trust? Sure. That’s probably part of it.

I like to make them blush. I have no shame in saying that. Heck, if I’m honest I would say I more than like it. The fact that they do blush, gush, giggle, or squeal (yes, men giggle and squeal) at something I say, says a lot. And whether they know it or not, I am aware. The fact that I freely keep trying to make them blush should tell them something, too. I suppose that freedom comes from that place of trust I talked about. It enables fear to step aside and let truth come in (no matter how subtle). And why would I want to stop making people I care about feel good about themselves? That seems to be a rather pointless goal when I’m trying to live a life with more happiness in it. It’s in the giving, you see. I am more than happy to freely give in and say things to make these two happy. Like I said, I do this with all my Sunday Boyfriends, but with these two, well it’s different. I guess once they entered that certain place my heart, they stayed. And to not keep nurturing those relationships, to me, would be a void I dare not think about.

So as I continue to relish in my recent barbecuing conversation, and think about all the ways ketchup, mustard, and barbeque sauce were never meant to be used, I am grateful for all the ways my Sunday Boyfriends and I communicate with one another.

Here’s hoping you all discover the fun ways you can take language to a whole new way of communicating and make all your Sunday Boyfriends blush.

As always, stay comfy; and be good to yourself and all your Sunday Boyfriends.

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