Maybe I'm Just Happy

Quinky Girl and I had drinks last night and talked and talked and honestly I drank too much.  I get all honest and shit and I think she does too.  So I’m digesting today.  It’s good stuff mostly, just filing things and looking at things.  She called me on the lenses my fear gives me sometimes, enabling me to see the worst possible outcome and to talk myself out of things I know.  It’s a self preservation thing.

And something else too.  I asked myself what would happen if someone came along that gave me some of the things Traveler doesn’t as much.  What if someone came along who told me all the things they think and feel and could give me all the sweet words?  For a long time I would have said that I would have so craved that and so wanted that, that they’d turn my head.  I’m poly, and I love Traveler, so clearly I wouldn’t break up or anything, but I would have been so enamored of that, so hungry was I for reassurance.

But I thought about and thought about this.  I thought about this feeling that maybe some day “they” would come along and be more of that love I wanted and needed. But suddenly I’m not there anymore.  I wish Traveler was more effusive, sure.  But we both changed in this love of ours.  We changed each other.

I still have that need, but it’s smaller and more easily satisfied.  And Traveler is still a little short on words sometimes, and I’d never call him super effusive, but he HAS told me all the things I need to hear.  He has told me I was beautiful and important and special.  He told me he is in love with me and that he wants me.  He’s told me that he sees a future with me and a few of the things he sees in it.  He’s told me his fears and wants and desires and needs.  He’s said them slowly for the most part, not all at once, but he said them.  He’s talked to me about our passion and our connection, and my fear that sometimes tells me I’m out here alone, but I’m not. He’s told me why he needs me.  He’s told me finally that he wouldn’t give me up.  He’s talked so much actually.  And I’ve learned to save that up.

And while he isn’t as effusive as I’d like sometimes, he is so many other things that fill me in deeper places.  I honestly can’t describe some of it and don’t want to describe some other bits of it, because they are mine and his.  But he fills me and I fill him too.  We are things to each other that we have always craved.

One I have talked about was my need to be held.  I have never had anyone hold me like this.  We are always touching, some little part, never apart.  We sleep like pretzels and even playing games my foot is against his leg or his hand is on mine.  He can’t stop touching me.  I can’t stop touching him.  He doesn’t hold me because I need it, though I do.  It feels like he holds me because HE needs it.  It feels like he has to touch me.  He has to hold me.  Sometimes we’ve just held each other for hours, fighting sleep to hold and pet each other more.  On one of our trips we stayed in bed until 3pm because we could not stop holding each other.  Even then we only rose out of massive hunger.

He doesn’t HAVE to say as much what he feels now for me to hear it.  I feel it.

And I see it in his eyes and his actions.

So would I still really be so charmed or have this pool of need that someone could come along and fill?  Would my head be so easily turned by a more talkative more verbally affectionate love?

No. To my own surprise it wouldn’t.

And he has said it and says it all.  I’ve gotten better at hearing him and he’s gotten better at telling me. And I realized I haven’t been craving and wishing for someone else to come along and give me the things Traveler doesn’t give me.  I do want to date others, because I after all I still believe in polyamory and the freedom it gives to follow your heart and to experience things intimately with others.  And Traveler is the only person I am dating.  And I am still open to love and still wanting more love.  But I’m not wanting to date to fill some unmet need.  I’m hoping that the relationships I build add to the net gain.

I’m not going to lie and say that Traveler fills my every single need.  Of course he doesn’t and nobody else will either.  But I will say that I don’t have the need here that I used to.  I’m not sure when it left, but it’s gone.  I noticed it last night.  I wasn’t sure what that was while I was sitting there with her, but I thought about it and thought about it today.  I’m happy.  I’m happy with him.  I’m happy with the way we love each other and the connection and passion and devotion and kinship and love.  I don’t think my head will be so turnable anymore.  I’m open to more, but I don’t need it.  I could use a better diet and more friends and a fast forward button to heal my piercings.  I could use a little more to do on some weekends and I could use a really good conditioner and more money, or even the name of a brilliant breast reconstruction surgeon.  But in love I don’t have any big needs.  I have wants and likes and ideas.

And again, I won’t lie.  This scares me sometimes because it doesn’t have the false security that I miss about being monogamously married.  I dearly miss that.  I wish he could promise forever and I could promise to believe him.  I wish we had a ritual to make me feel like we are tied, but you know I had all of that.  I had the vows and the ring and the house and the family and the life.  People love you as long as they love you.  People love you until they don’t.  And there isn’t anything really that predicts how long that will be or how deep that will go or how happy you’ll make each other or how miserable it might be in the end.  I reached a point once when I finally finally believed we had it all figured out.  I remember how wonderful it felt to feel so safe and so secure.  And I miss it.

Sometimes I feel like maybe I’ll have some of that again.  Sometimes I picture my family after good long years playing a game around a table.  I picture what it might be like to think of all the connections between us and all the things we’ve weathered together.  I think about stuff like collaborating in love. I think about making chicken soup and running to drug store and helping those I love fix things.  I think about traditions and old comfortable love and I think maybe it’s not so impossible or stupid to dream of that again.  And I think maybe I just might get it.

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