I am far more practical than I used to be, but, sometimes, I still like to believe that somewhere out there a person exists, for each and every one of us, who would understand just what you are feeling and would befriend you no matter how freakish or out of touch with the rest of the world you are...one of my favorite songs from the lovely movie "An American Tail."

I am so excited (cautiously so) about this book coming out next Tuesday...it features a main character who is a lesbian AND asexual and, well, lesbian asexuals are just not very often a part of fiction...or ever really even mentioned in the real world. 

We do exist, even if it seems no one knows what to make of us, and though we can be deeply romantic at heart and full of rich emotions we just do not feel sexual stirrings the way other people can. I probably should not use the word "we" since I cannot speak for every lesbian who identifies as asexual, but I do know that I am not alone in this and it is so very nice to see it reflected elsewhere.

Here's the description for the book from Amazon:

Pop star Leontyne Blake might sing about love, but she stopped believing in it a long time ago. What women want is her image, not the real her. When her father has a stroke, she flees the spotlight and returns to her tiny Missouri hometown.

In her childhood home, she meets small-town nurse Holly Drummond, who isn’t impressed by Leo’s fame at all. That isn’t the only thing that makes Holly different from other women. She’s also asexual. For her, dating is a minefield of expectations that she has decided to avoid.

Can the tentative friendship between a burned-out pop star and a woman not interested in sex develop into something more despite their diverse expectations?

A lesbian romance about seeking the perfect rhythm between two very different people—and finding happiness where they least expect it.

....

Just after I saw the above, I discovered another book with a similar theme and downloaded it right away and started reading...and, well, all I can say is: wow! 

Feeling that you are asexual in addition to being gay is like a double-edged sword and within the lesbian community (it seems to me, at least) there is almost an ambivalence towards people who are asexual. For me, finding this book (and anticipating the one above) is a Godsend...there are no words for it, really. 

To be strongly emotionally and romantically attracted to someone of your own gender is already considered (even now in 2017) pretty controversial (and often also still referred to as "sinful") so there is already that to deal with as a huge and painful struggle. 

You would think a person not being sexually driven or having a strong sex drive would be a good thing not something to be dismissed with disdain, yet it can be and, thus, it throws things into even further disarray. Books that speak to you when you are desperate to find another soul (even if that soul is fictional) that understands what you are going through and where you are emotionally is simply amazing.

I think about how different my feelings for X are than for anyone else I have ever had feelings for before…and they are radically different, in both good ways and bad.

X is, without a doubt, the most professional and composed person I have ever had feelings for, so much my polar opposite it goes beyond cliché. She is everything I am not and I am sure this is a huge contributing factor to my strong feelings for her. Anything or anyone that is not me is good and good to be around.

Never before have I had feelings for someone I am also afraid of…not in the sense of fear, but in the sense of awe and in the absolute conviction I am going to mess things up when in her presence (which has, indeed, happened many a time and most recently culminating in things that just cannot be reversed)

It is true that I find her very attractive, but the part of me that finds her very attractive is not an active part of me and never has been, if that makes sense. I like X in a very deep and emotionally resounding way, but the part of me that finds her beautiful is able to temper that side. I am no more sexual (or even sexual in thinking) than I am beautiful or socially adept or capable of having a meaningful, blush-free conversation with her. "Ex gay therapists" (many of whom believe being gay is some kind of arrested development) would find it fitting that I feel like a child in those matters of life.

That is why this is all a complete mystery to me, that five years later my feelings still have not gone away. It is futile and (no matter that I have never said a word or knowingly done anything to give myself away in how I feel about her) so very unprofessional. And yet, just as I cannot pray away my gay, I cannot pray away my feelings for her…maybe precisely because they are not wanton or wrong feelings, but very heartfelt and genuine ones of caring and respect. 

Lately I have been recording and re-watching "Monk" on the Hallmark Mystery Channel. It is comforting to watch on particularly difficult nights of sleeping. One episode, in particular, reminds me of why Monk's character is more than just his quirks and idiosyncrasies and why Tony Shalhoub is such a gifted and wonderful actor.

In the episode I am thinking of Monk and his therapist, Dr. Kroger, are talking about his late wife Trudy. Trudy is essential to the show's 'mythology' and to who Monk is and who he has become, even though she is only seen in photos and one major appearance in an episode that is not what it seems. In the scene that I saw again for the first time in years the other night there is this incredibly touching and vulnerable moment where Dr. Kroger is asking Monk to talk about his relationship with his late wife, in terms of intimacy.

Monk refuses to talk about it and, instead, offers to sing show tones with Dr. Kroger. Appropriately enough (and with an odd, but endearing sweetness that is heartbreaking) Monk sings "If Ever I Would Leave You" from Camelot. It is a beautifully sad moment and an amazing reminder that Monk is more than his OCD and not just a one trick pony or only capable of being annoying to people in his life, including his friends, who sometimes lose their patience with him.

I could be reading into this moment way too much, but I see it as a very rare and special one for any form of entertainment, much less tv, and especially in a world that places far too much importance on sex and talking about it so much. It is a lovely reminder (I think) that not all things are meant to be talked about and that some people (in this case, especially Monk) never ever ever get over losing someone they love and hold on to their memories as something to be treasured and never shared with anyone else. It is because of seemingly small moments like this one that Monk ended up being one of my favorite shows of the 00s and still remains one I adore.

The most recent issue of Psychology Today is full of helpful articles, including one on managing extremes and finding a more moderate way of life and feeling.

One particular part of the article hit me so hard I felt both shame that I may be like what they are describing and hope that this may be just the slap in the face I need to (truly) show me that what I have been feeling for almost five years is absolute madness. 

I am so glad that I never once did or said anything about my feelings for this person, but I am still deeply troubled by the words below because they just hit way too close and even though I am not obsessive about it and believe my feelings are genuine and ones of caring and not bad I really, really do not want to be this way:

My deepest regret is not that the person I like does not feel the same way (that's always been a no-brainer not only because she is totally outside my league, whatever that expression really means, but because I do not register on her radar at all and the circumstances involved make it impossible even for the most casual of friendships) but that I respect her immensely professionally and wish I had a better working relationship with her, completely separate from how I personally feel.