Camping With a Monkey

I think my Not Boy, Waffler Monkey has finally decided he's going to the company picnic. He's a long time burner with strong interests in working on projects. A few months ago I offered him a spot on my team after some jibber-jabber about not going this year. He has maintained that there is a percentage of a chance that he may not be able to swing it, but he wants to - I've made the spot on my team flexible and his ticket is will-call so if he can't make it, there is no harm no foul. He's gradually increased his talk of going, cooking up elaborate plans to get out of work, some of which I hope are jokes. Then two weeks ago he started making sounds like he really, really wants to go. Really. Then a few days ago he declared he's going to try to make it work. We're Calling it The Burning Man Miracle 2011. 

In the mean time he's offered me the use of his trailer which I have taken him up on. My mind has been planning the use of the space as if I would be using the trailer alone. Temporary Autonomous No Pants Zone, gypsy wagon of delight. Hanging clothes over there, bins under there, hanging baskets of stuff over here, decadent dark textures of comfortable girlishness. It's not a very big space and I can't imagine living in it for two weeks with someone I haven't been naked with. If he does go, we will share the Temporary Autonomous No Pants Zone, gypsy wagon of delight.

I enjoy his company so very much, I get all blissed out when we are in proximity - which happens a lot more often as we now work together for the same cottage company a couple days a week. The proximity-bliss is no longer as frustrating as it was, I've accepted it as a wash of awesomesauce, a prize for having a good friend. I have found myself mediating in that wonderful bubble, warm and maybe a little radiant. It's a very special feeling that I've experienced with only a couple of other people (also not boys BTW). But doing Burning Man with him? Living in the same small shelter with him will make me a changed woman. I welcome the change whatever it is, probably/hopefully a more patient and nurturing woman, if only to myself, I still win. Sleeping in the same bed for two weeks on the other hand ... we've done a reasonable amount of sleeping in the same bed, for a few nights at a time. I actually rarely sleep, I end up staring at him, taking in the surface of his skin, wanting to pet his hair, smelling him. I can't tell you how many times I've snorfled the spot he had just slept in. What beautiful torture two weeks will be. 
The road trip alone bonds me to people for life, camping with people in the same field of space has bonded me to people for life, it's challenging and special. We see the best and the worst of each other. We crack as well as we bond and grow together.  

So what's the bigs Q? This could be fucking awesome, and probably will be simply fantastic.

Camping with him could be good or disastrous. I have cold feet.

My marriage to c.a (he prefers the lower case c) ended in part due to misunderstandings and missed communications at Burning Man, they were meaningful and ultimately irrecoverable for him. 

C.A. (no relation), year after year dismissed our relationship while we were on the playa - that didn't go so well.  

B and I ended up yelling at each other in the driveway at 2AM while trying to pack my truck (my truck, a truck I had packed a number of times before with success), absolute refusal to cooperate from both sides. Fucking total meltdown disaster.
So here I am second guessing the success of a trip with my friend. 
"Why is this different than camping with someone else?"  
"Who am I kidding?" 
"He's not into you, drop it" 
"Chill the fuck out Q" 
"Get on with yourself" 

That second guessing voice causes me to wonder if my sexual tension with him will make for weird and challenging energy emanating from me. Shut up second guessing voice!  

In actuality, his boundaries have become my boundaries, his refusal has become my refusal. He told me "not now" and I'm taking that very seriously and have backed way the fuck up and, put my guard back up. I am trying to act like I don't totally love him *ahem* it's true I'm not going to pretend it isn't. I'm probably sending weird mixed signals now - I need to figure that out for myself. Soon.I am a socially awkward person. True story.

We talked a little bit about camping together last tonight and again this afternoon, not much conclusion, more understanding of style. For him the trailer is more of a crash pad, for me it's a home and office. I could probably do with it what I need to to make it livable for myself and he wouldn't care. That says nothing of the sharing of intimate space. Bathing (I sponge bath)? Yes we'll likely end up sleeping on the same surface together - as I will make my bed comfy, it will be irresistible, because that's how I like it.

Me: "I haven't camped in close quarters with someone wasn't fucking."
Him: "Yeah neither have I. Except my mom"
"How're we going to do this?"
"I dunno, just do it I guess"  
              I'd totally like to just do it man, lets get on that.
"If I make my space all cozy an delicious and irresistible are you really gonna crash on your bare mattress, all cracked out and dirty? Dirt Raver." 
"I'll crash where ever I see a bed"
               Which I suppose could be mine. 
"I'm asking for clarification of expectations here. I want to do my part to make camping in close quarters as easy and comfortable as possible.  How much junk are you bringing, and which junk? Are you a goldfish? Will you fill up all the available space?"   

And so on....
It turns out we're both totally accommodating people. In different ways. Overall, I want to be courteous and open, not expectant and creepy.  A friend suggests, less thinking.  I don't know how to do that. 

‎'Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.' - Mark Twain


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