Gettin' Down in Chi-Town
Lucy’s In Love So a couple weeks ago I wrote somewhat of a manifesto. (link) In this piece of writing, I declared myself utterly single for the known future, and ranted expansively about my lack of ability to commit to a relationship. I discussed my many friends who are getting hitched up right quick, and I wondered how they could possibly make such a big decision after only knowing their significant other for a year or two. I was determined that this would never happen to me, that I would not fall into love again for a good while, and that when I did it would be in a slow and completely reasonable manner. As one friend said, “Sometimes you slide into love real slow, and sometimes you just trip and fall.”My friends were supportive of my new single-lady life plan. They generally agreed that it was a good idea. They probably didn’t mind taking a break from hearing me gush about crushes. They assured me that I’d be happier this way.Some friends insisted, “Oh, you know, when you finally decide you’re single, that’s when you’ll meet someone.” But I didn’t even want to think this way- I was not trying to trick the system, thinking, “Hey, fate or gods of love or whatever, I’m SINGLE! (wink wink) Go ahead and send me a man when I least expect it!” No. That was not my plan. I was ready for the single life. I jumped into it happily, and with no expectations.So, I bought one of those pillows with arms that’s actually called a “boyfriend pillow.” No, it’s not intended for anything gross, but rather so I can write things to all y’all comfortably in bed. Alone in bed. I went to work, I played guitar, I cleaned my house. And I wrote for my blog a lot, answering sexy questions. Then, one morning about a month ago, I published that manifesto that I mentioned earlier. The single life was working out just fine.That night, I tripped and I fell real hard. I’d had this fantasy that (when I was ready to love again) I wouldn’t meet some guy at a bar or on a dating website. No, I’d be playing with my band, and the magic of my music would seduce him. In this dream scenario, I’d be rocking out, sweaty on stage with the lights reflecting off my guitar, my hair in a wild frizzy halo around my head, and I’d look into the audience and see this one guy standing there. And it would be like time slowed down, and this one sexy man would stand out from all the others. And after the show, I’d come down from the stage and he’d be waiting there for me, and we’d talk and fall in love.So… yeah. That morning, I’d posted my stark-raving-single manifesto. That night, I came down off the stage after playing a rocking show, and there was Lance in the audience waiting for me. We talked, and I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with this guy. Lance went to high school with my cousin, and she’d invited him to come check out my band. After my band’s set finished, Lance sat next to me during the next act. We’d only exchanged a few minutes’ worth of conversation, but sitting next to him I swear I could feel electricity between us. I felt my cheeks getting warm, and I could barely look over at him without the butterflies rising in my chest.It sounds like I’m making this up, but it happened just like this: it was a beautiful summer night, I was full of adrenaline from playing music, I was surrounded by family and friends, and I was sitting and listening to an amazing band play. And then this adorable boy next to me simply reached over and held my hand. As he told me later, “There was no other option. I just had to hold your hand, Lucy.” Lance and I spent the next 36 hours straight together. And the rest is, as they say, history.So it would appear that I have a boyfriend. I’m almost annoyed at those friends who were convinced that I’d find someone just as soon as I finally accepted that I could be happy single. How could that theory have worked so immediately?! I’m not a religious person, but goddamn. Lance and I are so well matched that I can’t help but think that fate or some higher power has stepped in on this one. This boy has every attribute I was looking for in a partner, and things I didn’t even know I wanted. He’s smart, and hot, and sweet as hell. He’s enthusiastic about life and always willing to go out into the world and try new stuff. This was particularly important to me, as I have dated far too many depressos who would rather stay inside and feel sad about everything than go to a party or a show. He’s super into traveling and camping and gardening and outdoorsiness; imperative hobbies for a man I’m going to spend much time with. And there’s other cool plusses about him that I would never have even thought to hope for; he digs cooking, he speaks Chinese and German, he draws. What a fucking awesome individual. I know what you’re thinking, “OK, Lucy, get to it. How’s the sex?” Well, friends, it is excellent. He thinks I’m super sexy, and the feeling is muy mutual. I feel totally comfortable with him physically, and we are able to talk about everything, even weird stuff. We took it pretty slow at the beginning- a whole 2 nights of sleeping in the same bed and not banging! I know, I know, very impressive, Lucy. And since then it’s been delightful to learn what makes one another turned on. Which, for me, happens pretty much every time he touches me, or talks to me on the phone, or even sends me a text message. Lance doesn’t have a ton of experience in the, shall we say, kinky realm. This made me a bit trepidatious at first. I was worried that I’d found the perfect man, but he might think my kinks were too much for him. But I’ve been revealing to him, little by little, what I secretly love in bed, and he has jumped right on board with pretty much everything. It’s fucking great. There’s a few things that Lance has been more tentative about trying, saying to me, “I think I might need to work up to that one…” But let me tell you, his “working up to” something has only taken a day or two so far, and now he’s tying me up and wrestling and slapping me around like a pro.So what can I say, except that I guess all those clichés about love are in place for a reason. Love does indeed come when you least expect it. It is possible to find the one for you. And yes, I now believe in love at first sight.Xoxo, Lucy

Lucy’s In Love

So a couple weeks ago I wrote somewhat of a manifesto. (link) In this piece of writing, I declared myself utterly single for the known future, and ranted expansively about my lack of ability to commit to a relationship. I discussed my many friends who are getting hitched up right quick, and I wondered how they could possibly make such a big decision after only knowing their significant other for a year or two. I was determined that this would never happen to me, that I would not fall into love again for a good while, and that when I did it would be in a slow and completely reasonable manner.

As one friend said, “Sometimes you slide into love real slow, and sometimes you just trip and fall.”

My friends were supportive of my new single-lady life plan. They generally agreed that it was a good idea. They probably didn’t mind taking a break from hearing me gush about crushes. They assured me that I’d be happier this way.

Some friends insisted, “Oh, you know, when you finally decide you’re single, that’s when you’ll meet someone.” But I didn’t even want to think this way- I was not trying to trick the system, thinking, “Hey, fate or gods of love or whatever, I’m SINGLE! (wink wink) Go ahead and send me a man when I least expect it!” No. That was not my plan. I was ready for the single life. I jumped into it happily, and with no expectations.

So, I bought one of those pillows with arms that’s actually called a “boyfriend pillow.” No, it’s not intended for anything gross, but rather so I can write things to all y’all comfortably in bed. Alone in bed. I went to work, I played guitar, I cleaned my house. And I wrote for my blog a lot, answering sexy questions. Then, one morning about a month ago, I published that manifesto that I mentioned earlier. The single life was working out just fine.

That night, I tripped and I fell real hard.

I’d had this fantasy that (when I was ready to love again) I wouldn’t meet some guy at a bar or on a dating website. No, I’d be playing with my band, and the magic of my music would seduce him. In this dream scenario, I’d be rocking out, sweaty on stage with the lights reflecting off my guitar, my hair in a wild frizzy halo around my head, and I’d look into the audience and see this one guy standing there. And it would be like time slowed down, and this one sexy man would stand out from all the others. And after the show, I’d come down from the stage and he’d be waiting there for me, and we’d talk and fall in love.

So… yeah. That morning, I’d posted my stark-raving-single manifesto. That night, I came down off the stage after playing a rocking show, and there was Lance in the audience waiting for me. We talked, and I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with this guy. Lance went to high school with my cousin, and she’d invited him to come check out my band. After my band’s set finished, Lance sat next to me during the next act. We’d only exchanged a few minutes’ worth of conversation, but sitting next to him I swear I could feel electricity between us. I felt my cheeks getting warm, and I could barely look over at him without the butterflies rising in my chest.

It sounds like I’m making this up, but it happened just like this: it was a beautiful summer night, I was full of adrenaline from playing music, I was surrounded by family and friends, and I was sitting and listening to an amazing band play. And then this adorable boy next to me simply reached over and held my hand. As he told me later, “There was no other option. I just had to hold your hand, Lucy.” Lance and I spent the next 36 hours straight together. And the rest is, as they say, history.

So it would appear that I have a boyfriend. I’m almost annoyed at those friends who were convinced that I’d find someone just as soon as I finally accepted that I could be happy single. How could that theory have worked so immediately?! I’m not a religious person, but goddamn. Lance and I are so well matched that I can’t help but think that fate or some higher power has stepped in on this one.

This boy has every attribute I was looking for in a partner, and things I didn’t even know I wanted. He’s smart, and hot, and sweet as hell. He’s enthusiastic about life and always willing to go out into the world and try new stuff. This was particularly important to me, as I have dated far too many depressos who would rather stay inside and feel sad about everything than go to a party or a show. He’s super into traveling and camping and gardening and outdoorsiness; imperative hobbies for a man I’m going to spend much time with. And there’s other cool plusses about him that I would never have even thought to hope for; he digs cooking, he speaks Chinese and German, he draws. What a fucking awesome individual.

I know what you’re thinking, “OK, Lucy, get to it. How’s the sex?” Well, friends, it is excellent. He thinks I’m super sexy, and the feeling is muy mutual. I feel totally comfortable with him physically, and we are able to talk about everything, even weird stuff. We took it pretty slow at the beginning- a whole 2 nights of sleeping in the same bed and not banging! I know, I know, very impressive, Lucy. And since then it’s been delightful to learn what makes one another turned on. Which, for me, happens pretty much every time he touches me, or talks to me on the phone, or even sends me a text message.

Lance doesn’t have a ton of experience in the, shall we say, kinky realm. This made me a bit trepidatious at first. I was worried that I’d found the perfect man, but he might think my kinks were too much for him. But I’ve been revealing to him, little by little, what I secretly love in bed, and he has jumped right on board with pretty much everything. It’s fucking great. There’s a few things that Lance has been more tentative about trying, saying to me, “I think I might need to work up to that one…” But let me tell you, his “working up to” something has only taken a day or two so far, and now he’s tying me up and wrestling and slapping me around like a pro.

So what can I say, except that I guess all those clichés about love are in place for a reason. Love does indeed come when you least expect it. It is possible to find the one for you. And yes, I now believe in love at first sight.

Xoxo, Lucy

11 September 32
lovesexmusic
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    Another enjoyable happily-ever-after story.
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Life. Love. Lust.

I'm Lucy. I live in Chicago and I like to talk about sex. Give me a topic: I'm happy to answer any questions about love, sex, and relationships. Email me at LucyRockwell@gmail.com


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