Sometimes polyamory, or people who say they are polyamourous make me crazy. I’ve ranted and raved about similar things here, but dammit I find myself on my soap-box again. To be in a relationship I think I have to–> r e l a t e.
This requires time. It requires activities besides orgasms. Relationships, I should say to me, aren’t built or maintained by week-night fuck sessions and dinner. Relationships need room and light and space. I let things stagnate way more than I should have. Suddenly I found myself at my limit saying.. wait.. wait wait.. what about what I want here? Suddenly I had to admit I wanted. I had to admit it hurt. I can be in a box, but not for a year.
It’s crazy important to me to not be “that girl”. I want to bring good to the lives of those I love. I want to make their lives BETTER. It’s natural that there are adjustments with new partners and bumps and jostles as we figure it out. It’s natural to have feelings and to have to process them and have to adjust and compromise and work things out. And it’s good to compromise… to a point. But I did it too much.
I want so badly to not cause problems or strife that I asked for NOTHING. I was afraid. I didn’t want to own that I’d have a footprint here. I settled for the bare minimum and kept looking at the bright side and savoring my scraps, trying to be smaller and be happy being smaller. And for a while it was good enough. It felt like the right thing to do. And that worked. But surviving isn’t thriving and eventually I have to admit that I have needs and wants here and I matter. MY comfort matters. MY happiness matters. MY time is important too. I can be accommodating and understanding and supportive and I should be. THAT should not change. I can do better at that too and will always learn (I hope) more and more about supporting those I love and those they love well. But I also have to ask for what I want and need and be okay with the fact that I need it and I might or might not get it.
The bottom line for me is this. I started out doing what I thought was right and I made healthy and good compromises. And then I slowly got more and more frustrated as I became more and more root bound and more and more compromises were made. It’s because of my love and my relationship with them. I thought we were on the same page in what we wanted and we might not be. There are the simple surface things I react to here, but there are the underlying things too. I feel a lack of more than just time.
So I talked about it. It wasn’t that hard to be honest. Once I started talking I had so much to say. I’m tired of feeling like I can relate but only in this very narrow ways and all predicated on whatever everyone else is happy with. WHAT ABOUT ME? Fuck. I know we aren’t supposed to say that. We aren’t supposed to be selfish. And I don’t want to be… but I am here. Finally. It’s been year.
Let’s call this what it is, and let me dial back my expectations and commitment and time here.. or let’s actually have a relationship, or even let’s admit that it just can’t work… but I can’t keep stringing myself along here. It hurts. I want to be wanted. I want my time to be wanted, my conversation and fun with me. I need you to need more than my pussy. I need regular contact, and fucking and eating dinner once or twice a week on weeknights is fun, but it’s not a relationship and pretending it is hurts. It can be what it is. We can be friends who fuck. But if you ask for my heart I need more than your cock in return. If you say you love me I need you to love me.
It might not be possible, and I get that. It just might not all fit together and I’ll lose the good with the bad here, and I accept that. If it’s a bad fit then it’s time to say it’s a bad fit and be real. I make no ultimatums. I still don’t want to explode anything, even now, especially now. I just need us to be real. Damn.