March
GRAYSON
Today marks two months of knowing Ivy. And frankly, I can't believe it's only been that long. I've seen so much of her and gotten to know so much about her in this short time that I feel like she's been in my life forever. I know it's ambitious of me to assume that she feels the same way I do, but I can't help myself. Maybe I'm just a romantic, but I really hope all of this is real. I really don't know what I would do otherwise. There's a part of me that trusts everything we've said to each other, and trusts how it feels in my heart. But another part of me knows she could still turn it all around on me, get too scared, and disappear.
I've spent almost every minute I can with her because I never know when it could be the last. She's so capricious. One day she's all in and then one thing sets her off and she gets so overwhelmed and seems like she's drawing back. But even during those times, she comes to see me. She comes to me for support. And I just can't believe that that's all meaningless, regardless of what she may try to tell me.
I don't know why she keeps fighting it. I have feelings for her and I know she has them for me too, so why don't we just get on with the fucking thing? She's so in her head and she second guesses everything. It doesn't exactly make me feel secure in our relationship, and that's just one part of it.
Honest to God, I tried my best to be patient with her process and support her job and any other...activities...that she felt compelled to participate in, but it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to kiss and hold hands with and go out on dates with someone who's just had sex with another person hours before seeing me.
I don't mind the stripping so much, at least no one can touch her, but the whole side-gig that involves sleeping with a bunch of people is starting to bother me; not just for my own comfort, but also because I know it's against the law. If something happened to her...no, I don't even want to think about it. But I want to keep her safe. So, it bothers me that she doesn't seem worried about it at all.
My priority has always been to respect what she wants, but I know she's catching on to the fact that something isn't sitting right with me, I just don't want to tell her what it is. I don't want to pressure her and scare her away. The last few days, I've been thinking very carefully about how to deal with this situation and I'm still not sure what I'm going to say, but I'm going to say something.
And I'm going to say it today.
Ivy asked to come over after work so we could watch this week's episode of RuPaul's Drag Race together. She says that one of the queens this season was a friend of hers who performed at the first club she ever worked at, so she's particularly thrilled about this season. And I'm thrilled that she wants to share it with me. I'll admit, I'm learning a lot just by watching and I genuinely enjoy the show, but tonight my focus is more geared towards talking to Ivy rather than biting my nails in anticipation and waiting to see who's going to sashay away this week.
As usual, Ivy arrives promptly at seven thirty. She says it gives her just enough time to make popcorn, change clothes—usually into one of my shirts and her underwear—and get comfortable before the show starts. I imagine she'll be a bit peeved if I throw off that routine, so I decide I'll wait until the show is finished to talk with her.
"Hello lovely." I greet her and let her inside. She prances past me and seems to be in a jovial mood.
"Start your engines Grayson, the eliminated queens are coming back this week."
I roll my eyes dramatically and sigh. "Who keeps letting them back in?"
"Right? They've come back so many times this season, it's ridiculous."
