He's Getting Remarried

Okay.. so.. I had the 5 year anniversary of my father passing, which was the same day as my old wedding anniversary to my now ex-husband.  If you are just joining this or don’t know the history, my ex and I were together for 13 years, married 11 of it and monogamous about 11 of it. We opened up and became poly, and he left me for his girlfriend that I had also been dating until he was too jealous of her and I to continue. He told me he couldn’t be poly, and then that he could, and again that he couldn’t. He began dating our old dog walker in secret while we were separated but talking about working it out.  We have been apart about 3 years now and are divorced.

third marriage

I did pretty well this anniversary and thought mostly of my father. I miss him, but it was somehow sweet this year to think of him, and not the aching pain of other times in my grief over him. It was good.

I messaged him and learned that he’d proposed to the dog walker and they were engaged. (He and the girl he left me for broke up in October of the year we separated and after we’d decided to divorce, and he’s monogamous with the dog walker since then).

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Somebody that I used to know

I was just reading old messages to my blog and a link I missed a million years ago, to a blog I wrote a few years back and it linked to this song.

———-

Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember

———-

I had my biggest break up a few years ago, and it’s taken me a while to sort it all out.  It was like when my father died and I found myself thinking of things and feeling things I hadn’t thought about since I was 14.  His death just kinda shook our snow globe.  

Did you ever notice how things we don’t deal with come out sideways?  I find the great lessons are like onions for me, and I peel back layer after layer after layer.  I learn about being vulnerable over and over, or about extending trust again and again, just in new and deeper ways. 

It takes a while after a break-up to sort out reality from hopes and habit.  It’s hard to see a relationship for what it is when I’m in it.  I spent too long in some relationships, trying to make myself happy with what they were so I didn’t have to do the work of being true to myself and leaving. 

I spun sugar out of air, making connections where they didn’t exist and seeing the best in everyone at the detriment of the truth.  I overlooked that selfishness or that drinking problem or that inability to be honest. I put up with his utter inability to handle emotion and told myself I was a good person for helping him learn, except.. did he learn?  I said “he’s just tired” and “she’s just feeling stressed”.  I tried to be agreeable when I was stood up or pushed off or managed.  I forgave so easily because I just wanted them to go back to them loving me.  Breaking up after that feels like waking up.  

We repeat the patterns we’ve learned over and over again, don’t we?  We are always trying to work out those first relationships.. make them love us, prove we can stay, show ourselves and the world how great we are to make this work.. we’ll make this work dammmit… 

And the thing is that this isn’t a dress rehearsal.  We have one life. What are we shutting off every time we do this?  Why do we plead and pour and cajole and beg to make things that really shouldn’t last?  And when they do come apart, why is it so hard to let them go and handle all the remnants.  And why do we run away from taking the real chances at love because we don’t want to lose our security? Continue reading

Yours and Mine

It’s come to my attention that I need to accept the love in my life.  I had life experiences that led me to believe that there is a lot of danger in wanting and loving and trusting and believing.  I have little experience that says this is a good idea.  And it’s time I decided to jump anyway.  I can’t keep living so that I am always prepared to the inevitable fall because it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy, but more importantly because living life in fear is no way to live.

I’m going to exaggerate this to make my point.  When some kind of disappointment happens I jump to feeling stupid.  I jump to tell myself “well.. there it is.  You are a big dummy to fall in love like this.. see… see.. here is the proof of some terrible thing.  You are dumb.  He doesn’t love you.  She will walk away like everyone else.  You are a fool.”  Obviously it’s not this obvious, because I’d never tolerate such a thing and I’m actually kinda smart.  No.. it’s subtle.  It’s the way I interpret some action and have this tinge to my perceptions.  Time and time again I’ve have some occurrence, imagined the worst, spun, and then talked about it or got more info and felt silly because of course I know he’s not like that or she would never do that.  Why do I jump to cruel intentions and self flagellation?  I’m not a glass is half empty kind of girl.  I’m the girl seeing the silver lining in everything.  So, what’s up with the incredibly negative slant I have here sometimes? Continue reading

He said that. Nice.

I’m writing a different post that’s kinda related to this, but I had to kinda write this out, and well.. that’s what a blog is for sometimes.

I had this really great evening that started out less than stellar.  I went to this class Washington makes you take when you are getting divorced, which is really stupid because you have to take it after you file and it’s all about resources and such for how to file.  Good job guys.  Who is there tonight?  Yeah.. Hubby.  So I sit by him and I’m trying to be amicable and he’s being moody, of course.  In his defense he was dealing with something, but also not in his defense.. it’s no excuse to act the way he does and I’m done making excuses.

I just shrugged and played on my phone, talking to friends and reading blogs and stuff.  Whatever Dude.  He was supposed to have plans with someone and lied to them, and there he was calling someone else and making plans in the city.  Again, more reasons to be grateful my life is moving in a different direction.  He can be his nasty, moody, lying, thoughtless, inconsiderate, selfish self all he wants.  He is no longer my problem. My revenge is living well.  Yay!

So I meet up with Quinky for fun drinks and dish.  She’s started her new job and is working insano hours and it’s time to celebrate and relax too.  We met at Canon, a place I frankly couldn’t afford, but I’m a lightweight and wouldn’t be drinking heavily, so it was all good.  Holy crap is it delicious.  We shared a pizza with duck confit and these cake things made out of rice and roasted veggies and awesomeness.  We dished like we do, all over the map, and I told her about the way that Boss tends to talk to me of his interests and flirtations.

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All the Kinds of Love

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.  I just woke up and smiled, thinking of last night.  The December drought of kisses and dates and yummy sex continues, but I can’t help feeling loved.  I had a pretty bad minute coming home, and then.. a bunch of joy.  Do you ever think about all the kinds of love in your life?

ImageI’d finally checked my old FaceBook messages, bored on the plane and learned the my husband had taken our dog walker to San Francisco to meet his sister.  A bunch of people were asking me if Hubby was in fact polyamorous because he’d taken his new girlfriend to California and had her meet his sister.  This was news to me since he and RollerGirl had recently broken up.  Then it clicked.  Hubby has been dating our old dog walker and RollerGirl for months.  Well, kiss my grits.  He threw me away, after months of abuse because he wasn’t poly and he was angry at me for being poly and that he was going to go be monogamous with RollerGirl.  But, here he had been dating two women for at least 4 months.  Fuck me sideways.  Continue reading

I have a crush

My boyfriend and I were sending each other sweet sexy pics when he dumped me flat for a phone call.  I texted an appreciative response and a pic and he just stopped responding.  Radio silence. Some time later he popped back up and said “sorry I was on the phone with _______”.  Harumph.  That kinda smarted.  He didn’t mean it that way and to be honest I do kinda get it, and it’s not a hill I want to die on.  It doesn’t feel good to be dumped like fucking bologna but I’m gonna chalk it up to bad timing and a slight insensitivity and let it go.  I’m gonna tell you about my crush instead.

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Oh my god I have a crush.  I think I’ve had something like 3 crushes in my entire life, so it took me a while to realize it.  I have a crush!

There is this girl who belongs to the NSPP (a poly group I am finally a member of and adore) and I find myself drooling on her in the virtual world.  She seems so witty and funny and pretty and sexy and just.. awesome.  She’s WAY out of my league, sadly, but damn do I enjoy crushing on her.  She’s vivacious and she sends out these occasional sexy snap chats, and comments now and then on the NSPP board.  I get a little thrill each time I see I have a snap from her.  I thought she was just foxy when I saw her snaps, but she was so beautiful I had to check her out.  I went and looked at the public version of her Facebook and OKCupid profile.  Ahem.  She was even more amazing. 

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She’s an intelligent and accomplished woman.  She seems like a genuine and interesting person.  She says cool things about relationships and sex and love.  She says a lot of other cool things.  We’re actually a pretty good match.  Sadly she also seems like a very very popular person who is overwhelmed with dating prospects.  Drats.  Of course she is.  She’s a phenomenon!  She’s a science geek.  She’s crazy hot.  She likes to play roll playing games.  She has cool hobbies.  She has dizzyingly delicious curves.  She has long thick hair and a beaming smile.  She talks a lot about joy and laughter and smiling in her profile.  She seems so cool I’d desperately want to know her even if she weren’t smoking hot.  I may giggle uncontrollably or be struck dumb if I ever see her at an event.  It was slow at first..  “Oh, would you look at that sexy snap.  Wow.  That girl is stunning”.  It’s quickly becoming “I think I’ll just read her profile one more time and compare our answers to the dating questions again.  Maybe we would hit it off if we ever met.  Maybe I’d really get that lucky.  You never know.  Julia Roberts married Lyle Lovett.  Stranger things have happened.  Maybe she’d like a short ‘little too curvy’ girl”.  I’m smart and I have cool interests too.  Okay.. so I’m not really in this girl’s league.  Maybe I can hope for a really cool heart or a strangely reciprocal appreciation.   

ImageMaybe I’ll send her a message. 

Gulp.  I can’t.  What would I say?

I’m chicken.

I’ll just give her a bunch of stars on OKC.  Maybe that will make her smile.

It’s kinda fun to have a crush. 

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Quinky Girl Understands "Too Much"

I read this post by Quinky Girl at Blogspot.  It’s called The Mystery of Medusa.  Holy shit.  Holy Shit. 

ImageI said to her:

“Holy shit.  Printing.  I can’t believe someone said it.  I can’t believe someone gets “too much” and all the layers of it.  I simply can’t explain too much.  I get twisted and don’t have the words and it comes out weaker and stronger than I mean it and with all the wrong emphasis.  You’re right that the particulars are different, but that the feelings are similar.  I saw my thoughts and feelings in so much of what you wrote.  It’s been a year of coming to terms with “too much” again.  I thought this was one I had licked.  I grew so much with it and at first I was exhausted to find myself here again, but I see it’s a journey with me.  I’m not in the same place, but I am on the same path or digging in the same vein or whatever.  I like the growth but I don’t always like the process.  I accept it, but it’s not comfortable.  That’s okay.  My life is not about being as comfortable as I can be.  Thank you for digging this up and posting it”.

Fugees – Killing Me Softly

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd.
I felt he’d found my letters and read each one out loud.
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on.

Strumming my pain with his fingers.
Singing my life with his words.
Killing me softly with his song.
Killing me softly with his song.
Telling my whole life with his words.
Killing me softly.

He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair.
And then he looked right through me as if I wasn’t there.
But he was there, this stranger, singing clear and loud.