Dear Littel Wenker,
I wrestled with whether or not to write to you about this subject matter, but I fear my problem has gotten out of control. Please help.
It happened fast, as these things tend to. I was up late reading when I heard a scream through my living room window, followed by the clap clap clap of two bodies smashing together. I ran to see what was the matter. Was someone hurt? Then I heard it: “FUCK! MY! HOLE!” I heard a low growl, a life-affirming sigh, and then silence. It was all over, and I was in love.
Hearing these two lovers made me realize I’m connected to something so much bigger than myself. This is polyamory, only they don’t know it. I love it when she screams, “Pull my hair!” and I whisper back, “Okay.” I hurry home from class to peer across the alley from my windowsill, ear pressed to the screen, hoping for a glimpse or the sound of my partners eating dinner. When they clink glasses, I hold mine high in response. When I hear the TV turn on, I scramble to sync my episode of Seinfeld with theirs. When he says, “Let’s go back to the bedroom,” I think, “It’s pretty messy, but what do I care? I love you!”
I just don’t know if this is too fast and too soon. Am I ready for this level of commitment? Are they? How do I let them know that I’m here, I’m queer, and I need more from them?
Sincerely,
Third Wheel
Dear Third Wheel,
Note: I’ve been experimenting with my name these days. Don’t get too comfortable, readers.
I’ll be honest. This is a new one for me—the window dating, not the polyamory. I’m little but I’m still a wenker, after all. Anyways…
You’ll need some big pieces of paper and markers. It’s time to make some signs à la Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” music video. What to write? Well, I always think it’s important to establish connections via common interests or things you know about the other person (or, well, people). Maybe something like “You have very strong breath support!” or “I like my hair pulled, too!” Don’t be afraid to get specific: “I ALSO love doggy style after scarfing down Moumoun’s falafel.” If they don’t see your signs, feel free to blast a song or two from their sex playlist to get their attention. No one can ignore “Come to my Window” playing at full volume.
And if at any point you decide you’re not ready for a serious relationship, you can always wear ear plugs or just shut the window.
In case it wasn’t clear, I am not your girlfriend—even though I wrote you a letter.
Professionally,
Lidl Wenker
