Dangerous Liaisons with Miss Artist

As you probably recall Miss Artist is an ongoing ‘force’ in my life; she is someone I have a very strong connection with, and am very attracted to. However, Miss Artist is extremely self involved, particularly in her work. I often will go weeks without hearing from her, only to receive an SMS saying she would like to go for a drink, and has an hour on Tuesday between 6.15 and 7.15pm....... And no, I’m not exaggerating! When we are together, the conversation is fantastic, interesting, dynamic and fascinating. We have always had a friendship, with a dash of flirting. I knew she was attracted to me, but there were external issues that had prevented anything from happening thus far.

As usual, her SMS asking me for  drinks on the following Tuesday evening had caught me by surprise. Of course I accepted, she tickled my brain and I loved the feeling. I knew things would be different this time round, I was now involved with a very attractive and sexy woman, and so (I hoped)  Miss Artist would not have her usual influence over me.

We met at our regular pub on a very cold, wet and windy London evening. She was full of energy and exuberance, feeding of the energy of her new moving image project, and bounded in like a boisterous child. We found a comfy old brown leather sofa in a quiet corner of the pub and began talking. She told me about her new project, the issues she had faced, what she was enjoying about it, how her gender was influencing peoples’ interactions with her, and feedback she had received thus far. The conversation was, as usual, complex and interesting and I found myself fascinated by her intellect. He ideas were different, confronting, and innovative. The conversation began to shift slowly as we got through our beers, and we began talking about relationships. I told her about my recent dates with Miss PR, and how much I liked her. All of a sudden Miss Artist interested peaked and she began questioning me in depth on my dates; who, when, how, what...

The conversation shifted slightly and began to be about what we wanted from potential partners. Miss Artist informed me that her art will always come first before anyone in her life, and she will always allocate her time accordingly. She expects someone to be independent and have their own life an interests, and she needs someone who is accepting of an open relationship.  Open relationships have always puzzled me and I allowed the idea to marinate for a moment. It didn’t seem to sit well, the rational part of my brain felt it was unlikely to work long term. I indicated this was not something I was entirely comfortable with, and she seemed disappointed. I noted that I had spent 12 years of my life in relationships and they had always been committed and monogamous. And this seemed to work for me. She gave me her ‘critical frown’ and made a comment about conforming to societal ideals.  

The last tube departure approached, so we left the warmth of the pub and walked to Warwick Avenue tube station. London winter evenings, despite the cold, are beautiful. The sky was clear, the trees were changing colours, and the footpath was lined with amber coloured leaves. We talked along the way and I savoured her company for the brief period. Miss Artist often felt like a tornado in my life. She would blow in, make a mess, whoosh around for a bit and then leave a trail of destruction. I wondered if today would be the same.

We arrived at the steps of the tube and for the first time, she gave me a big, affectionate hug and kiss on the cheek. I felt her hold on longer than acceptable for a friend. While I walked away I smiled, the tornado seemed like a winter breeze this evening. She had potential to make me cold, but I was able to take measures to protect myself.  I finally felt like I was in control. It seemed quite likely that in the future some time, we would have sex, but for the first time, I knew it would be on my terms.