Well, That was Quick

So, it's turned for the worse. Surprise, sadly enough.
M and I are still getting along wonderfully, after a rocky start, but it seems that J's bedroom passions surpass my own too much to be reconciled.
Which sucks, truth told.

I've mentioned a divide, albeit not very clearly, between her and I, and I've been meaning to talk more about it, except that I've only had hints and ideas and most of those were fueled  by my own intuition (I would say suspicious nature, but it turned out they were right, so it was intuition.), and I've been trying to pretend it wasn't what it was, but simply enough-- she and I weren't meant to be.

Which is fine, I suppose, sometimes relationships turn out that way. The biggest problem I have with this is that I've gotten fairly attached to L, and M and I again have basically no issues. Took us a while to quit being all guarded, but now we're comfortable, and the more comfortable we got, the less comfortable J was with us.
She claims that it's just us having sex without her that bothers her, but I've very deliberately been holding back my displays of affection in front of her, for fear of bothering her. (The sick sad part of me wants to see if she'll be mad at that, too...)
My mother said that a lot of it might have something to do with not feeling like she's number one in his life. And I can completely see that, but he's a father (as he claims, above all else), and I know for certain that if I ever had to choose between a man and my child, I know my child would come first-- and I don't doubt at all that he's the same way; so her feeling this way is not my fault.

I've been giving them space for about a week, and then I finally asked J what I could do to make things less.... pear-shaped about us, and she finally expressed a very key point, I think, that is driving the wedge between us.

I'm not a very feminine person. And I say person, because to say non-feminine woman either makes you think butch, or a woman that only has three kinds of shampoo and ten pairs of shoes instead of twenty of each. If those two aren't the same thing.
I'm basically a stereotypical man with a vagina. If I can't smell me, I don't stink. I barely wash my hair, I keep it short so I don't have to, I do good to get dressed at all, if I can get away with it, my definition of "clean" is "doesn't stink" and I've upped the ante to "can't see any awful marks on it".
It makes perfect sense to me that, if she wants to date a woman, she wants to date a fairly femme woman. Or at least one that shaves and showers more than twice a week. I hate shaving, by the way. I refuse to, unless I'm guaranteed some action in the bedroom, and even then I whine about it. And I mean armpits, shaving, not just bikini area shaving.

But ultimately, I'm a very.... Let's say 'confusing' person in bed.
She doesn't like that. Neither do I, honestly, it makes life very bleeding difficult, because every prospect requires a stupid powerpoint presentation of how I work and why I work that way, and then I have to answer stupid questions, because trying to explain that I honestly land under what is called the "umbrella of asexuality" is horrible.

So I don't give her the reactions she wants when we're "playing". Not that she'd know, she's only tried once and gave up since then (cough, depression cough), but because she's only tried once, I've pretty much determined that I'm not sure she was ever aiming to play with me at all. I don't even remember this try, I assume she was still pregnant at the time, and I might well have been drunk or that tired or something.

I'm disappointed, though. I can't figure out how to fix her and I, and I honestly don't think she wants to fix us, and M does, but he has no dogs in that hunt, so to speak, and even if he did, J would shoot them all for trying to get into the hunt.
More and more, I've gotten the impression that she wants me the hell away from their relationship. Except that she's the one objecting to my moving out of the place we currently share.

This is ultimately financially reasoned. And childcare, also finances, but simplicity.
This amuses the hell out of me, at the same time as annoying me.
Because I, now that I've faced that this isn't working and almost definitely isn't going to, now want to run away screaming and crying and throwing things.
I cannot express my disappointment, sadness, or heartbreak. I don't expect to be able to.

I'll miss L the most.
When I start on this train of thought, though, of leaving, I start humming to distract myself, but I always wind up humming the lullabye I've been using for him, and that just makes it worse.

It's in French, from Wolf's Rain. I can't find a literal translation for it anymore, or maybe the sentence structure in French is that backwards or something, but I rather like it. "No matter how difficult, I'll dance the path with the wolves"

So. I guess that's it. Six months.
I'm not going to delete this blog, though I want to, because I'm hoping that someone else will read it and learn. I should have included more of the negative, but, eh. Such is life.