I have to tell you, even with the recent blow ups, I am feeling kind of good.
Last night, after my blog post, Hubby called as I was on my way to my now standard Thursday (huzzah!) date night with Great Date. The conversation began okay, with us talking pretty reasonably and ended with me losing it. There is so much damn emotion in this. I was yelling and crying. I feel so angry at all of his past dishonesty with his ex, and so hurt that he wants to associate with her so badly. I question his judgement. His daughter begged him, crying on her knees last week, to not talk to the ex. He stood there irritated and pretty much told her he was going to have contact with the ex and that she had no right to ask him otherwise. I have asked, demanded, begged, and pleaded for him not to start up again with this ex,. He said he wants to be friends with her and I am going to get over it. He says that wants to date her but can’t at the moment, with her in monogamous relationship with the man she is cheating on her current husband with. He admits he wants to have sex with her and that he doesn’t trust himself with her, and yet he plans to see her when she comes here to visit her sister. But.. uh.. they just want to be friends.
The stunning lack of concern for how this effects anyone in his life is just… concerning.
I am feeling more and more often, and finally admitted last night, that we may be irreparable. I find myself looking at him sometimes in these situations and just wondering where the guy I love went to. We still have lots of conversations and times here and there where things are good, and I keep hope.. but I find myself waning. It’s been months and months. Where is my husband?
The thing is… I just can’t throw it away. I know a lot of this is his fear in situations and his poor impulse control, and I keep thinking.. he can change. The good guy can come back…
I don’t know. Last night I felt… and finally said… that studio apartment of my own is looking better and better.
Hubby said good stuff at the end of our conversation. Stuff I needed to hear… but is it enough? Is it enough that he occasionally says really good stuff and makes me feel better for a little while if his actions show me time and again that his words are cheap? I can’t tell you how much even thinking this spins me. I was pretty beaten. I felt bad. I showed up at Great Date’s house and it kept lapping at my heels. I talked to Great Date because he’s been here and because I really do need another perspective. He gave me good friendship and counsel. It wasn’t the mad crazy blowjob I thought I’d give him walking through the door.
We got back to his place, and I felt better for having talked. We moved a few things upstairs and set up his bedroom. We snuggled and snuggled and snuggled. Neither one of us seemed ready to make it really sexual, and we spent hours talking about everything and nothing, laughing, cuddling, kissing, touching. I felt immensely happy there in his arms. Talk turned to racier things.. swing ideas and play thoughts.. and we got a little carried away.
We got so carried away he just… took me. I loved every second of it as he pinned me to the bed, pulled off his boxers with his other hand, and just..savagely took me. He bit my eye! LOL. We fucked and fucked and fucked. When we were done we both fell into a little post sex coma.
A little while later we woke to sexy pics from mystery girl. God how I love sexy pics. She is so fucking foxy! She has this naughty smile and this very sexy, very sensual, very cute little body. I felt a tiny twinge of guilt that we’d basically included fantasies about her in our foreplay, but whatever. It wasn’t like we were plotting. We were having fun and included an image of her in our heads in our little dreams.
We got up and cleaned up a little and thanked her for the pics. It was remarkably wonderful to nibble little bits of cheese and chat with her and Great Date a tiny bit while I perved out on her sexy pics. I like that Great Date and I are having this fun exchange, with her, with ourselves, with each other.
This morning we had more wonderful times, getting carried away again before the joy of little morning things like yogurt and showers. I went to work smiling from ear to ear. On the way again, Hubby called. I sat in the car, not moving, for fear I’d go home and pack. I didn’t go into work and didn’t drive home. I just sat there.
I finally dragged my emotionally hung over ass into work, and after a few hours of work, was again in a better place. I’m not leaving today. I scheduled an appointment with a counselor that sounds good. She is poly herself for 20 years and comes recommended by other patients on a poly board. I know it may be hard to understand.. but this really isn’t my lifestyle and I’m not going to let it be a scapegoat. Hubby and I had many of these problems for a long time. Poly stirs shit up and stresses cracks, but it didn’t make them. So it’s important to us that our counselor understands we want to work within that framework.
It is real and positive action, and dammit if I don’t again feel hopeful. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or just the desire to not give up. I don’t know if we really have a shot, and that’s the honest truth, but I feel good that we are at least going to try. Yeah, I’m working it.