Wednesday, August 16, 2017

I'm taking the wrong streets home because you told me to get food on my way home. I don't want to eat. But I figured it would look worse, look more petulance, look brattier, if I didn't eat anything then if I choke down a crappy fast food sandwich. But it would be choking it down.

So early to already be here. Holding you hostage. Making you walk on eggshells. Both of us crashing into those things that angered us so much about previous partners or our parents. So frustrating and hurtful. I would cry if i didn't feel so fucking empty and lost and yet trapped. 

You must feel the same. You took your ball and went home when you could. Maybe it's time for me to do the same. I really hate being just like all the rest. I know i stay too long. Has it already been too long? 

What does it mean when you can find your own way there and own way home but you don't want to anymore? Not like how it did when i decided to look for someone but to really know what it's like to have someone to zip your dresses and put on your necklace, or better yet your collar, on every morning and do the reverse at night? 

Or maybe I'm not supposed to be with someone. The crazy is all the companionship i can take. Much more than any other person should be asked to shoulder. Your partner is yoked to you and shares your load but it shouldn't be that heavy all the time. 

But it would be so hard not to crawl back, over and over. I'm not that strong. The sex, the companionship. I'd have to blot out the memory of the address. Lock up my keys after 10pm. Lol. Yeah, that's it. 

Better go get that stupid sandwich. 

Wednesday, August 09, 2017

We Used To Be Friends

I went to the ER Sunday after a weekend spent in pain. I was supposed to have Mini-Me for that whole weekend. I only got to see her for a few hours during her brother's birthday party. At least my parents were able to help you get a break on Saturday. I think that you didn't believe I was sick until you saw me on Sunday. Or you didn't care. Help was offered as I left the party to drive myself to the ER, since my new partner, who has yet to get a spiffy pseudonym, was out of town, but I felt the politeness of it. Today when I went to pick up Mini-Me after my follow-up doctor's appointment, you didn't ask how I was feeling or what had been wrong with me. 

We used to be friends. I thought we still might be. I'm sure if I asked you, you'd say that is how it goes when you aren't living together anymore and that I'm not around anymore. To other people, I'm sure it has much to do with me dropping the ball with the parenting in the past few months, as we truly cut the romantic ties and moved into separate spaces. When things became more difficult on me, I broke and wasn't able to step up to the plate like I had planned. I have a feeling you feel like I chose a new partner over my kid(s), over the family we had. I know that I fucked up several times by not being where I was supposed to when I was supposed to. I know that for you and yours the why of that doesn't really matter, just that I didn't. 

But weirdly I hadn't thought it would make us not be friends, make us not care about the other. None of those things that we had in common went away. But you barely answer my texts. I don't hear about the kids, much less your life, not even when I ask. I guess that is what I deserve. My abdication made being a parent a bigger part of your identity than it now is of mine. It also burnt up any shred of care you still had for me. I tend to do that. Burn up that caring with need, even if it is a need I have created by my absence. 

Maybe we were never friends. Maybe we were lovers and then parents and we created what looked like friendship to fill the spaces. I had thought she was my friend too. Until I burned up her care and we realized how little we truly had in common. The more time spent apart though, the more I am unsure why I want to be friends except that ...well, I do that with exes. I feel this need to try to salvage the friendship we had, or that I thought we had, because I make my partner my bestfriend, in a world where I have very few friends to start with, so I don't want to lose that. But maybe your partner never really was your friend. Maybe when you operate the way I do, they are a different third category, the lover-friend? Lend? Frover? Maybe once one is gone, the other goes with it.

Honestly, I don't even know why i want you to care. Because that's really it. I want you to care. Just like I wanted you to care then. Like I wanted her to care. Care in a way that made sense in my head at least, which I've learned is the real trick. If you didn't then, why would you now? Why do I want you to? Why do I still care at all? 

And yet I go to bed tonight wishing I could have that easy conversation with you, sharing about parts of our lives or our minds or the world. Not because I want that romance back or the sex back. But just to have an exchange of a few messages with someone who is like-minded on the topic, or at least knows it. At this point in things, isn't that what friendship is? Or a significant portion of it for us? But that seems gone and I don't even know how to ask about getting it back. I think the answer is either that we were never friends or to go back in time and be someone else then and someone else now. 

Saturday, August 05, 2017

Time

The time alone. More properly, what your mind will do in that time alone. That is not a part of the sales pitch for the poly or open lifestyle. When it is brought up, that time alone is framed as a good thing. Time for you to hang out with friends. Time for you to do things you want to do that your partner doesn't. 

I'm supposed to be at my parents' house, exhausted after a long day that had an early start and a nice playful evening with my daughter. I was supposed to get to enjoy being with my daughter all weekend and that would distract me from this time alone. Of the seven nights we were apart, i would be spending five of them with my daughter. The other two I would spend doing things in his house, our house, cleaning and unpacking. 

We aren't poly but not quite monogamous either. I had offered a hallpass while apart, especially as things this week went worse and worse. Except now there is a new complication so that hallpass comes with strict limits. This week hasn't turned out at all like it was supposed to. At all. It was supposed to be one of the most productive weeks in recent memory. Instead I have gotten almost nothing done. Hell, i didn't even empty the dishwasher. (Sorry Sir.) I am sick and in the worst pain I think I've ever been in, which I can only control if i lay down and don't move around very much, in our bed, alone, realizing in the past few days that I don't have anyone to take care of me. I'm trying to focus on my book, but all I can really think about is the seconds ticking away, between when i hear from him, between when i know what has happened and during which anything could be happening. 

Nope, this isn't in the sales packet. I always tended to keep myself busy during these times so I didn't have to think about it. Because I am me, this time is only twice as nerve-wracking as other time without him, as that time can still be nerve-wracking. (I am oddly comforted by the fact that he deals with the same feelimgs when I am away from him.) I just hadn't anticipated that I'd be alone, in pain, and laid up with plenty of time to wonder about exactly what is happening. 

But I didn't take back my limited hallpass. In the time I've been writing this, he's texted and the companion for his fun has gone home. I don't begrudge him whatever has happened between them, just as i didn't last night. This was not a trap or a trick. I wanted him to have an outlet and I am glad for whatever he was able to have. I much prefer that I gave it, even if that time of uncertainty stretched in my head into some of the longest hours of my life. I don't believe that it changes anything about our relationship. I don't believe we hold less faith with each other. 

But they really should put what that time does to your head in the packet. If only in tiny tiny print, read really fast, like they do on ads for medication. Maycauseanintolerablelengtheningoftimeduringwhichyouimagineeverythingyourlovercouldbedoingwithsomeoneelsebothawesomeandterrible.takeasleepingpillandwatchahappyshowonnetflixtilyoupassoutiffeelingscontinueformorethenfourhours.