I have a few posts I really need to write. I have a review of an awesome kinky B&B to write.. and I will, but this one just came up.
I think I live my life to always be missing someone. I was mucking about on Facebook and ran across a pic of my dad with one of his friends and he was smiling and looking in the camera and my breath just left me. It’s not the white hot poker it was, but it aches sometimes. Everyone loses their parents if they live long enough, so it’s hardly a novel experience, but doesn’t it always feel so singular and unique?
The ache for my ex-husband is mostly faded now. I still have these moments or memories where I miss something we were, but I don’t miss being with him anymore. But if I’m really being honest I have to say I’m not sure I’ll ever really be totally over that hit. It’s like the arthritis in my elbow after I broke it. You just get used to it. I’ve moved on and he’s moved on. He did what he pretty much always did, including with me. He settled with the first girl he found and they seem to be building a nice life together. I hope they are really happy. And it’s nice to feel that.
But when I think about it, I realize how very much of my life I’ve spent alone. I’ve been blessed with amazing love and support and friends that were my family. But I’ve gotten good at being my own company a good deal of the time. I spent some of the day with Quinky Girl and Traveler, and we all watched football and cleaned some of the last detritus from Burning Man, and I came home to eat and study and cuddle kitties, and it was a good night. And I’ll see Traveler again tomorrow. Such riches. But it’s weird. I miss him all the time. I’ll be doing something and occupied, enjoying my little routines and I’ll come home or curl into bed or turn off the TV or whatever and I’ll wish I could curl to him or call him and tell him this funny thing. I’ll want to hear the little hmm sound he makes when I kiss him… want his leg against mine or the summery smell of his hair. It’s usually just a passing thing, a little pang for my love. Sometimes it’s sharp and I’ll pull up my calendar in my mind and see the days coming up with him in them.
I used to walk and walk and walk… hours, sometimes many nights in a row when my ex-husband was gone. I paced my neighborhood aimlessly as a child until it was very late and I could sleep. I have missed my mother and my brother. I missed my Dad when he was out and I’d watch TV late into the night, sitting on the floor in front of it. I missed my first love when we were both at work without each other. Often we’d barely make it through the door to get our clothes off, shedding them on the 3 flights up to our apartment in our need to be naked and pressed together. I missed my friends when I moved. I got married and missed my first husband while he was on drill with the National Guard, and I missed my recent ex-husband on all those nights he was on duty, or training, or at sea. I missed him for a long time after we separated too. It’s been almost a two years since we decided to divorce. We’d separated in July, but it took us a couple of months to be sure. I spent months pining.
I miss Quinky Girl a few times a week too. I miss my dear old friend from the Army and I need to call her. I miss my friends in Chicago and Boulder and even Hampton now and then. Life’s been nuts and it’s been too long.
And that’s the funny bit about poly, too. You will always be missing someone. It’s bittersweet, this longing. But I think I like it. I think I draw it into my life.
And tonight I miss my dad. My friend wrote on the caption on his picture “motorcycle-riding rocket scientist”. He was. I missed him so much at Burning Man. It did not surprise me when Quinky Girl said my father would be proud of me riding my pink sparkly bike in my neglige with my huge smile. My father was so palpably there.
I cancelled the date on yesterday with my swinging friend and the club because my stomach hurt. But funnily I kissed a friend the day before. The friend is a guy I’ve always appreciated and liked, but for a lot of reasons hadn’t pursued, and when he was at my house for lunch it just kinda happened, and it was crazy passionate but it left me wondering. I wonder if we’ll kiss again, but I’m thinking we won’t, because the friend isn’t really contacting me, though he was fun and talkative and responded to flirting yesterday, the day after the make-out. There’s just some dimension missing. God damn spidey senses are tingling again. I’m giving it space because he’ll either be interested or he won’t. I told him it’s in his court to ask me to hang out again if he wants to. I’ll miss people but I won’t chase them.
I’d thought it was just lunch with the friend and had scheduled that night with Traveler afterwards. When it turned into a very frisky lunch I felt a little guilty, like I was double-stacking and I’d cleaned up and waited for Traveler to arrive for our date night and I walked around a little, missing him. I guess Traveler missed me too because he came through the door and kissed me deeply and we got all caught up and went straight to bed. Later, at dinner, we talked a little about longing and I felt a little better for how much I miss him. He’s in the same place really. He told me how he missed me before I had a chance to talk about my own want. It’s just the way it is.
It’s funny how something in me always seeks this longing. I’m glad I’m not alone.