When it’s cupcake time for lesbians



She’s going though something or something is bubbling up in her or something is disturbing her dreams. Whatever it is, you register that something feels a millimetre different about her as you sit with her, meet her at the cafe, cuddle up to her in the morning, talk with her on the phone, read her text or email. You know it immediately: sunny gets cloudy.

She knows it, too and knows that you’ve sniffed it, heard it, sensed it, felt it.

Whatever that something is, it hasn’t taken enough shape or form to make it into her conscious thoughts in any coherent way for her to express anything to you using her words. And so now is not the time to talk. If you push her, it will not be good. Not for her and not for you and most certainly not for the togetherness of the two of you.

But you can’t stand not knowing. You can’t stand that feeling in your gut, can’t tolerate not knowing; you can’t hold still enough to quiet that raging monkey mind, stop it from jumping treetops, worrying that something is going to go wrong, that the something is about you, and that the something about you is not going to be good.

Her need for thought time, to bring focus to the thing that is as yet unformed, crashes into your need for all innards on the table so you can see it all, to see exactly where you fit in. You need to know. Now.

The feeling of not knowing that you can’t tolerate has taken over your body and mind, launching that mad panic of yours.

But you can live with not knowing what she doesn’t yet know. You don’t need to know now. You never did. Not knowing is not the end of the world, and if it is the end of the world, it doesn’t really matter does it? But when it isn’t the end of the world, it’s just another day and the world will turn whether you know or not. Night will move into day which will then move into night which will itself move into another day. The tides will come in and the tides will go out. It’s a moment, just a time. It might be a day. Or two. It might be, if you consult the calendar, you know, that time of the month. Again.

On those days, smile with your heart, go for long walks, go to the gym, kiss her forehead and remind yourself that love is patient, love is kind and that taking 10 slow deep breaths sometimes helps and if that doesn’t help, well, let me share with you the latest in lesbian calming techniques: what really, really works is getting out to hunt down the BEST cupcakes in your city preferably with whipped icing, buying two, (one for her) and remembering that there are moments in a lesbian’s life when savouring your world is whole lot better than pushing it.

About FS

Toronto, Canada. Writing about slices of life, the moments and minor details of which come into awareness or out of imagination and the spaces inbetween. On hiatus from writing anywhere else but here ... at least for now.
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5 Responses to When it’s cupcake time for lesbians

  1. makingspace1 says:

    Thanks. Needed that. Sometimes I need it for myself, just to give myself a break for not knowing…

    So. Cupcakes, you say? Hmm…

    • FS says:

      Well, you DID post the piece about cake or death. 😉 Yes, cupcakes, and if you can’t buy them, then it’s into the adventure of finding a recipe and making them for yourself, for friends, the nearest women’s shelter, kids’s drop-in centre, senior’s home. It is possible that cupcakes could heal the world…

  2. Terrisita says:

    Very sweet…no pun intended. With sprinkles on it.

  3. Ah! that’s so cute, and supportive, you’re adorable , just saying 🙂

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