The space between

In a lot of the work I do about relationships and dialogue, we talk about "the space between" people -- the energy between the "I" and the "Thou" (in the Buberian sense), what it is we create in relationship that is not me and not you.

I've been rolling a lot of ideas about identity around on my tongue for a few weeks now, and had a little flash of insight last night in my little mini-dips into pride.

In the afternoon yesterday, I went to Carly's 2nd bday party, a rich little trip into my running identity, my role as part of J&S's chosen family, my aunt-self to Amelia, echoes of my 8 months in that upstairs apt. I navigated the garden party in my little floral sundress, bonded with J's stepmom Char, felt connected.

Then I had a date with D, our last date-date as we transition our relationship into friends. We had dinner on a heart-of-the-village patio that seems to be the nexus of my Pride Lite. I had dinner in this seething place Friday night with Darrell and David, and then last night, D and I met my sister Stef and her guy Jon (in the pic) there for dinner. On the way in, we ran into our cousin Jen, also out doing the pride thing.

After dinner, D and I were standing on the street, drinking coffee, smoking our single pride Lucky Strikes she'd cadged from someone in her charming way, and I noticed someone dressed in what felt librarian-ish garb -- stoic shoes, long dowdy black skirt, frumpy sweater. "Interesting choice of drag," I thought, especially counterpointed to the crazy carnival drag all around. Moments later, the librarian (who I thought was a guy) squealed, "you were on KINK" and ran over to D. She blushed, he gushed, "I LOVE you, you were so hot, I'm a hermaphrodite from New York City, my mother is a Jehovah's Witness but is totally supportive of me, GUYS, this girl was on KINK." Etc. I stood there, coolly observing in my little black slip, smoking my fancy American butt, watching hir hug D. We all wished each other happy pride, then I turned to D. "I didn't know you were on Kink." We both laughed.

We had a good night, our last one as lovers, honest and connected and loving, both clear that more is not going to work for us, but affectionate in that transition. She is so... brave and smart and dignified. I'm so happy to have her in my life -- she teaches me a lot about relational space.

And that's what I was reflecting on while I was walking home. The space between. My identity triangulated between my family (queer and straight), my most intimate friend (and former lover) of 25 years, my recent lovers, queer and straight, male and female and somewhere between, kinked and not. Me, in that space stretched between all of them, fully, fluidly myself.