Vulnerable and Real

So, I’ve been an emotional mess.

I’m tired. This is the worst quarter of grad school and I’ve just been… emotional. I’m so tired. I haven’t slept as much or had much time for rest. I’ve been spending too much time alone. I’ve felt this deep neediness and insecurity and loneliness. My brain has not been nice.

We studied these attachment theories, which honestly I fucking hate. We read all of this stuff about kids who didn’t have stable caregivers and how they are fucked for life, how their brains wire poorly and they develop abnormal amygdalas. I just read all of this shit, and it’s all about people like me. They talked about children like me, who’s moms abandoned them and how we cannot form secure attachments and are permanently and irreversibly broken. They talked about kids who’s parents were neglectful, and absent and the children they raise who cannot regulate emotion and can’t form normal connections. And fuck, I hate that.  I hate it.

I hate the idea that someone would read this and think, “well that explains it. Poor fucked up girl. Of course she is this way.”

And then I’m reading this other stuff about how humans crave connection. We need trust and belonging. We are wired from birth to attach and connect and seek intimacy in all kinds of forms. We are balls of fear and longing with center cores of gushy love. We all want to be seen and heard. Continue reading

Home Again

Traveler and I just got home from a week away, and what a week!  I think I fell even more in love with him.

We spent a week together in Vancouver Island in British Columbia.  It was wonderful. We hiked and walked and ate great meals and did sea kayaking.  We had morning and afternoon and evening kisses and snuggles and hot passionate sex. We had connected sex and sweet sex and close gasping, can’t stop kissing, locked eyes, grasping, aching, delicious sex.  Almost four years in and I fall fall fall.  God yes.  We’ve never spent a week together before, just us, and it was glorious.

hello bc vancouver islandWe talked and talked and joked and laughed and kissed and snuggled and just had the best time.  It was easy and fun.

And honestly it was hard to come home.  We daydreamed about the cafe we’d open in Hawaii or the bed and breakfast we’d run like the one we stayed in.  We dreamed about the vacation home we’d build together and the little country house we’d live in.  It’s idle dreams that we both know won’t happen.  We love Quinky, and our jobs and our friends, and our lives.  But there was something special about this dreaming o me.  It’s special because it isn’t real.  It won’t hurt anyone or change our lives. It’s just the admission that in a perfect world made of magic we’d get to be together like this all the time.  It’s only the admission that this love is a great love too.

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Comfort

I’ve been tired, so tired my love.  My mind is weary.  I felt like I’d drown in this and needed those few hours to dig in the dirt with you and to make my body ache.  I needed to quiet my mind and rest in the labor.  I needed our breath, and the sounds of us working, and the little smiles and dirty kisses and the sun that was there even if it was cloudy.  I needed to rest, but my mind won’t ease now.  There is too much to do and to think about and I’m thinking deadlines deadlines deadlines.  So I needed to just work with you.  I needed the comfort and ease of the way we work together.

I’ve felt a little distant from you love.  I’ve felt far away and too deep in my head with all of this work.  I’ve needed to linger and spend time looking at each other, but it’s time we don’t have.  Thank you for your little touches while we worked side by side later on the couch.  I needed those little smiles.  I needed those pets.  Soon love.  Soon.

Thank you for fantasizing with me a little afterward, for giving my mind something to chew on that wasn’t academic.  Thank you for knowing how to please me so well, for your warm skin and your soft kisses.  Oh, when you call be beautiful or pull me to you.  Oh when you trace my curves.  Oh god I was so tired but I could not stop touching you and being touched by you.  I love you I love you I love you on my breath and in my heart and my head.  I fell asleep sated and tired and ready for blissful sleep, such comfort.

snuggle

image from alligator-sunglasses.com

And thank you for not being able to get out of bed. Dozing in and out of sleep with you curled to me…. heaven.  Why can’t I ever stop touching you? Craving your touch?  So many little kisses.  Everywhere.  Your taste.  Your smile.  Your scent.  On my lips and in my breath and in my heart.  I love you I love you I love you.  The warm comfort of you lingers.

I’m so tired, love.  But we’re almost there.  You’re such a comfort.

Making Time

Poly people are busy, yo.  Heh.  Like you didn’t know that.  Sometimes things become a colorful mess on Google Calendar, and then what do you do?

Poly people are even busier when they are in grad school and when they are working nearly 60 hours a week and when they are doing renovations.  I’m sure that holds for “when they are parents” and “When they are care taking for loved ones” and a host of other things.

la petit mort 4

La Petit Mort Ballet via Tumbler

My poor Traveler has had to work like a mad man.  He was out of town.   Then on our date when he got home he fell asleep at 830pm.  We went to dinner and came home and he passed out.. just like that.  A quickie before renovations and the big game. The SuperBowl we all got to spend together, a few hours with Quinky Girl for him, and he had to work till 1030 and we snuggled and slept.  Then our next date he had to take off work for something Quinky needed for the renovation and he had to work all night to make it up.  Then again, he got off early for reno and had to work all night on our date.  Basically I’ve fed him, burped him, and put him to bed on every date we’ve had for two weeks.  (Okay.. minus the burping). Then finally a Saturday night, but we spent it at Quinky Girl’s boyfriend’s party and again.. asleep.  Thank god we love getting all wrapped up and snuggly in our sleep!

Let’s not even mention that two of those working and sleep dates I was working on deadlines too or that the working dates generally started about 2 hours before bed.  Poor Traveler was EXHAUSTED and just fraught.  I tried to soothe him and make it as nice as possible.  What can you do?  Sometimes life is crazy.  The only time we were alone and he wasn’t working we spent doing demo, and that was an amazing godsend.  It felt good to connect with him.

la petit mort Texas

La Petit Mort Texas Ballet

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A Million Years Ago

shrek far far away

From Shrek- The Far Far Away Sign

A million years ago….

  1. I kissed you in the vacant lot and ran home breathless.
  2. I broke your heart because I wasn’t ready.
  3. I thought this was what relationships were and I didn’t know this was rare and special.  We danced all night.  We made love and when I called it that I didn’t giggle.  We said shit like “soulmates” and “forever” and I didn’t doubt for a second they were real.  Nobody had ever loved like we loved.  We sang songs to each other.  We took baths together and sat there until we were pruny.  You fucked her.  And you lied.  I felt worse about the lie because it meant we weren’t what I thought we were.  I walked away hurt and insecure.  I spent a decade feeling the image of you in an Indian blanket in our cold apartment, silent, as I dropped the key into your lap.
  4. I got her note. She was gone.  She needed to be with him.  She had a family back home. Wouldn’t I please understand?
  5. I fucked him at some party, the entire time wondering if the pool table took quarters… “mmmmhmm.. yes.. oh baby”.. does that pool table take quarters?  What is the mechanism to drop the balls if it doesn’t take quarters?
  6. I wondered if she’d ever love me back.
  7. I wanted to break it off but his dad had just died.  So I cheated. A lot. I felt more and more sick and when I broke up with him I thought I was doing him a favor.
  8. I couldn’t sleep with him because it would have been too real.
  9. She played with me next to my bed and I thought she liked me, but we never talked again.
  10. I liked him and he liked her and she liked someone else.
  11. He was a lot worse than I thought.  He was a lot worse.  He left a scar on my back from the event that changed my life.  He committed suicide years later, after hurting a lot more girls, and eventually going to prison.  He got out and killed himself.  I felt relieved that he wouldn’t hurt more girls and ashamed I’d been silent and hurt those girls.
  12. I waited a long time to touch him because I wanted to do things differently and when I finally touched him it just didn’t work and we couldn’t make it work so I broke his heart.
  13. He was my friend.  He was deeply honest and really flawed and fucked like a demon.  We talked about EVERYTHING with utter and complete honesty that wasn’t brutal because we bore no brutality.  It was the most comfortable I’d ever been with my body in his pure love of it.  You’re supposed to learn to love your body but I loved mine because he did.  We kept the lines really straight and loved each other for years, around and in between all the others, coming home.  We’ll never be lovers again, but I still consider him a friend.
  14. He left me for groupies and I met the women he’d cheated on me with when her boyfriend was cheating with me and I didn’t know it.  She and I were great friends for years.
  15. I loved him for his letters and got swept up in them and the things he created in them.  It was too late when I’d realized my mistake and I spent a long time trying to stick to my mistake.  When I could no longer be faithful and couldn’t be unfaithful, I left.  I like seeing his happy pics on Facebook.
  16. I never thought it would happen again, but it did.  I met him at Starbucks.  We shared a humor and a passion and loved each other through a million challenges and rewards.  We wrote love poems and songs and gave each other gifts of 100 kisses on post-its and notes hidden in lunches and suitcases and pockets.  For years I knew great love and great passion.  He was my best friend and I was his.  And we grew and grew and grew.  I wish I made him dinner more.  I’ve only learned that these past few years and I wish I’d learned it with him.  Some of the greatest and the worst days of my life were spent with him, and the love we had carried us through them.  With the end I wondered if I’d imagined it, but my box of letters tells me I didn’t. The passion never died until finally, that last year it did.  He told me she was too much and there was nothing left.  He wrote a poem based on a speaker we’d heard together when we were first dating, and redid it at times over the years to delight me. He used it again with the next women, which did not delight me. I don’t understand what happened really.  I make up theories and live with them and discard them because I’ll never know why.  I’m trying to accept that but it sits uneasily without ever having had my closure.  I read the things he said, to me, and later to others, the lies. He was intentionally cruel and admitted it.  And I’ll never understand.  That is not the man I loved. He replaced me and then replaced her.  He lied a lot to them too, and I’ll never understand it.  This is not the man I loved.  He is not the person I loved for so long and so well.
  17. In the midst of all of that I fell for him.  He seemed sweet and honest and clear, a relief in troubled times.  I loved his dazzling mind and the force of his love.  I fell hard and had a hard time letting go when the mask fell.  But I did.
  18. I fell for him so slowly and so well, my love sneaking in on quiet cat feet.  It took a long long time to know him and I’ll always be learning.  His kisses stayed dizzying, and his arms became home.  I love our adventures and our quiet nights and that we can get lost in each other doing absolutely nothing.  And then he told her he’d leave me if she asked him to.  I’m still not totally sure why it changed either, but suddenly all the things we were talking about for our future were different.  All of the little plans we were playing with were off the table.  He didn’t want what he said he wanted anymore.  Or he wanted it differently.  I wondered if I got this love wrong, if it wasn’t what it seemed.  I didn’t get it wrong.  It’s just complicated to live with all of our commitments and honor and complexities of life and history and it’s hard to navigate for women with a past.  There are a lot of moving parts.  It’s beautiful and hard sometimes, but he’s worth it.  Eventually it came that he would not trade me for the wishes of anyone on Earth, and I know it in my marrow.  He’s part of the family I’m making.  I sometimes miss the surety of when I was a girl, or think maybe other ways might be easier.  But then reality reminds me that relationships are always complicated.  Grown up love is complex and beautiful and long-awaited and deep… if you’re lucky.

I’m lucky.

shrek and fiona in love

Shrek and Fiona ride off into the sunset. From the movie Shrek and found at http://basementrejects.com/

 

I'm Actually a Romantic

I have a cold, so maybe this is the meds talking.. but I have to confess that I’m a romantic.  Don’t fucking laugh.  I’m serious.

Even a poly girl.. shit.. maybe especially a poly girl is prone to this.  My heart is huge.  My heart is wide.

Even a poly girl.. shit.. maybe especially a poly girl is prone to this.  My heart is huge.  My heart is wide.

Traveler and I are deeply, madly, passionately in love with each other.  It took 8 billion years, but he says it all the time.  I’ve always been a mush who says it.  Such proclamations don’t come easy to him.  He told me 72,000 ways that he loved me and I finally heard it.  But I needed him to TELL me.  I need the words.  And they came.  They come more easily now.  I need him to say, out loud, what he feels and he does.

And yet, I’ll admit, I have a yearning.  It isn’t because of a lack.  It’s not because Traveler doesn’t go there or isn’t enough.  It’s because of me.

I want more.

I want to find my other love.  I want to watch TV curled up with her, or go to the library on Saturdays with him.  I want to be too lazy on a rainy afternoon together.  I want to hit the art show.  I want to say mushy mushy things to each other with our limbs entertwined.  I want all of it.  Traveler is mine.  He is fully and completely mine even if he isn’t mine alone.  And I am his.  I am utterly and totally his.  But I have this wide wide heart.  I have this well of love that constantly fills, and I want more.

cuddling girls

girls snuggling found at polyvore.com

Even after all these years in open relationships that still feels subversive.  How can I be so greedy?  How can I have this.. THIS!.. and ever want more.  Am I unsatisfied? No.  If the other loves never came I have to admit that would be perfectly okay.  I have my life.  I have my life with Traveler.  And it’s everything.   I told him the other day when we were laying on the couch just laughing and holding each other that I’ve never been loved like this.  I’ve never had a love that held me like that.  He holds me in a way that makes me feel like I am filling.  I am flooded with all the good hormones and I feel myself glow.

We were talking about nothing really, just laughing and petting each other. There wasn’t any music on and the TV was off and we’d be laying there just talking for a long long time and neither one of us wanted out.  I’ve never had that.  I’ve never had the love that doesn’t pull away.  I’ve spent my life apologizing for being too affectionate.  I didn’t know how much that hurt.  I pulled away to sip my wine and he curled around me the second the glass touched down, unconsciously and not breaking the stride of his conversation.  And I lay curled against him smiling and laughing with him until it was getting really late and we needed to go to bed.

And

I have more to give.

The trick is to remain open but not to chase it.  But I’m calling it to me.  I am a greedy lover.  I want the whole thing again.  The first step is admitting it.

I’m a romantic.

Domestic Bliss

domestic bliss handsOne of the things a non-nesting partner often doesn’t have access to is all the little domestic things.  And one of the things I love about dating people who aren’t strictly hierarchical, and someone who is my partner, is that I get some of that.  One of the reasons I’m always saying Quinky Girl is a such a great metamour is that she includes me and we can plan together and work together.  There’s a lot of reasons, but this is one. Continue reading