Trust Me

a man whispers to Tori Amos in her music video

There is so much bubbling around in my head, a storm of adventure and love and longing and power and I can’t share.  I not this person of intrigue and I don’t always enjoy the holding, but I hold it.  I don’t want to be the person on the inside.  I never wanted to be alone in here.  How could I know what I’d be handed or how that would change my view.

Oh be careful, so careful what you wish for.  I don’t want to know and I can’t say.  I’m excited, yes, of course.  I can’t pretend I don’t dream of this constantly.  I want to read everyone’s mind.  I often joke about wanting to crack people like a walnut.  I wish for it endlessly.  I wish for it more with some than others.

But it doesn’t always make the world a less lonely place to be let in.  Sometimes it makes the world echo more.   The pressure of silence weighs heavy.  I don’t always know what it all means and I can’t untangle it so easily, bouncing off the walls of my skull, coiling.  It feels wondrously and terrifyingly inclusive.

It’s sick to feel joy at what it means to know, to be on the inside.

And it’s sick that it eats the lining of my stomach.

It’s twisting in my hands and tearing my palms, a dubious gift.

But I can take it.

It’s okay.

I am so fucking honored by trust.

I am so blessed by love.  

Take a Leap

There are reports out now that Gonorrhea is on the rise in Washington (and everywhere else).  It’s up 40% here, health officials at the Washington Dept of Heath report.

Eek.

A woman in a full body black rubber suit

Gonorrhea is the second most common STI in Washington, after Chlamydia.  The hardest hit demographic is young adults.  The rise is attributed to not using condoms and using them improperly, and the prevalence of unprotected oral sex.

So.. am I gonna stop having sex?  Uh. No.

There are two big errors of thinking that occur with something like this statistic.  One is that we all want to think that the bad things only happen to other people. “I’m 33 and that doesn’t apply to me” and “I was tested last year and so was my partner and we are good”, “I only sleep with educated white people” or “I’m in the NSPP and we are all poly and all safe”.  This is all NONSENSE.

Another main error is the thinking that we are immune because we take this or that safety measure.  “I use condoms with new partners” or “I ask people if they are tested” or “I go on a few dates with someone before anything happens and we always have ‘the chat'”.  This is also NONSENSE.  These are good things to do but they don’t equal immunity.  If you have sex you are taking a risk.

I Don't Know

There are so many things that I don’t know.  I know I had an insanely hot loving close intimate fun weekend.  There were trips to the sex shop for more gear, delicious breakfast casseroles and cookouts, leather cuffs, so much snuggling, petting, great talks about everything, beautiful nights, insanely hot times with just Traveler and I, and then Traveler and I and our new friend Yarn Hooker, and with a new guy I haven’t named yet.  There was wine tasting and homemade pie, games with friends, old friends playing putt putt and laughing over pizza, and a lazy morning just like we like.  There was something in the air this weekend!  I will be enjoying memories of this weekend for some time to come.

And my friend sent me messages yesterday, expressing joy at his partner finding a great new prospect and a tiny bit of trepidation.  What if she likes him better?  What if she only needs the new man?  What if he makes her forget my friend?  He went online to read blogs and found some, all ending with divorce.  Not very encouraging.

I told him honestly that sometimes this life is bitter hard. Relationships USUALLY end before death.  This is true in monogamy and in polyamory and in every other kind of ‘amory too.  How many people do you know that are blissfully coupled with the only person they’ve ever loved and they’ve been together and close and happy for life?  Chances are if you are lucky you can name maybe 5 couples.  That’s 5 couples out of the hundreds or thousands of couples you have known.  It’s not like monogamous relationships are paragons of stability either.  But with the fluid nature of open relationship networks, things do have more opportunity for change, and that really points out the unstable nature of romantic relationships.

Trusting Enough to Take a Risk

love dice from http://ronenews92fm.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/love-dice.jpg

So, I’ve been doing some writing and thinking and such about fear. I posted the other day about a fear eruption I’d had. I’m not sitting and stewing and living in fear, and I’ve actually still been enjoying the happiness of a week vacation with my sweet Traveler, but my fear boiled over twice now, and the strength and content of my reaction told me this was in large part about something else and I have work to do.

No, I’m not fucking crazy about the idea of Traveler dating again. I have good and bad reasons for this. I feel like he is a busy guy that can barely keep up with his current investments. He works a fucking lot. A lot lot. As it is with me seeing him twice a week now some of our dates are spent with him working. He doesn’t have time to have two full nights a week with me without doing work. He’s kinda important, you know? So, we get also a little extra time here and there.. maybe once a week sometimes, dinners after working in the yard, or an hour or two of WoW playing here and there while Quinky Girl works late or something, or talking as we clean the kitchen. It’s nice. I like this time filling of my “family battery”. We tend to get at least one date a week and some time on the second one with face-to-face interacting alone time and stuff like kissing and snuggling and fucking and talking, and that fills my “romantic battery”. I’m very happy with the amount of time and activities we currently have and I don’t want to actually lose it. I think that’s reasonable.

He can’t really afford to take the time from Quinky Girl either I don’t think. They see each other a lot, obviously living together and all, but most of their time is spent doing the business of living, like most people. Of course I assume they kiss and snuggle and have good moments even on those days when they are dealing with receipts and grocery shopping and working in the yard and planning their kitchen or whatever, but they have limited face-to-face time and I think she has a “romance battery” and “family battery” like I do too.

a love battery on hot pink from http://4.bp.blogspot.com

But.. this isn’t my choice to make. I can have this opinion all I want, but in the end Traveler will decide how he will spend his time and what matters to him and what he’ll invest in. If he wants to spend time he spends with me with someone else, I can’t fight that. I don’t think that is his plan, and I hope it doesn’t work out that way, but people do choose what matters with the choices they make about how they spend their time. Maybe he’ll choose to get a gardener and spend his time in the yard dating instead. Maybe he’ll get more efficient at paying bills and grocery shopping and cleaning and managing investments and organizing and all those little things people do and he’ll spend THAT time dating and not in separate-togetherness with Quinky Girl. Maybe he’ll spend the time he spends with Quinky Girl dating instead. I freaking hope not. Maybe he’ll stop taking all of his ski-trips and boy’s weekends and holiday-party-trips and family-trips and people coming-to-Seattle-time and spend all of that time dating. Shit, maybe he’ll learn to just sleep a whole lot less and date a night owl. Maybe he’ll find a girl to fuck only when he visits a job site he goes to every other month or so. I don’t know.

I can talk about my concerns rationally and reasonably or talk about what I feel, but in the end, I give him the freedom that he gives me. He can date or fuck or whatever anybody he wants. I might ask him not to fuck certain people if there are compelling reasons to do so, and he can choose to honor my request or not, and I can ask him for what I need for our relationship, but I might not always get it and there may be consequences associated with any action. That’s the way the world works. I don’t need to make rules with him, even if I could or wanted to. There are consequences for every action and I have to talk to him about all of this and then trust him to make the right decisions for himself. I make the decisions for me, and I choose him, but I don’t have to any more than he has to choose me. I hope he’ll consider me and Quinky Girl, and his friendships and his daily life stuff and his family and find a way to meet his needs and be happy too. If he chooses things that cost him our relationship and knowingly chooses them, well… them’s the breaks. Right?

The Evidence

I had that recent realization that I have to stop living in fear about my loves.  I remember telling a friend not too long ago, “I’m so happy I’m terrified”.  Ever get like that?  The thing is that I see silver linings all over the place and I’m a optimistic person, but.. but I’m often waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I don’t like admitting this about myself.  It’s not a thing I’m proud of.  But I’m betting I’m not the only one that does this and it’s a happiness and love killer.  I’m not saying that keeping your feet under you is a bad thing in adventures and love.  I’m not saying that heads in the clouds are bad.  I actually like these two things together.  I am saying that keeping my one foot out the door (just in case!) is a thing that makes me unhappy and hurts my relationships.  I’ve been feeding my insecurity.

Standing on the ground in red shoes

This makes me think of something the character Rob said in High Fidelity-

Rob: “I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and… I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing. And that’s suicide. By tiny, tiny increments”.

Yours and Mine

Mythology Cassandra painting by: http://www.art-prints-on-demand.com/kunst/evelyn_de_morgan/cassandra.jpg

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?

Ohana- Minding the Gap

I had this excellent talk with a metamour (lover’s lover) today, about all kinds of things.  She was thinking about some things I was lucky to listen and ask questions and explore and feel with her a bit.  I’m here at my brother’s, enjoying my family and a really nice relaxing visit, and I’ve had a lot of time to think.  We talked about hard stuff, some Cadillac problems, and some common ground.  I have to admit.. I’m falling so in love with her.  And no, we are not fucking.  But her love is so fulfilling. 

I’m in this place where I’m not ready and not really wanting to change much of anything, but I’m enjoying imagining what could be.  It comforts and thrills me and makes me feel better in all of these ways to think “what are the options for my life?”.  For a while it just felt like wreckage.  Everything I wanted and everything I made were shards and it hurt so much to think about that.  And I began to see all the possibility in that.  I could make lots of choices, but boiled down, I could choose to rail against the things I didn’t like and tear my hair out screaming why, or I could decide to begin the long slow process of healing and ultimately growth that such losses bring.  I could render good from all of this.  There was and is the terrifying and exhilarating possibility of ANYTHING, but that is little comfort.  I know I don’t want to marry again, and I don’t want to be alone, so what does that leave?  Actually.. a lot.

One of the things we talked about was inclusion.  My heart was just bursting at the thought of it.  I wept with joy at my keyboard at one point.  I had all this happiness for her and this feeling of love and acceptance and my own heart opening.  I loved her for talking to me and for being real with me.  I loved her for her fierce and beautiful love for the men in her life and her desire to be as inclusive and supportive and loving to them as possible.  She wants to be sure they feel loved and that nobody loses.  I loved her for her telling me a little of her thoughts and fears and joys.  I loved her for the care she shows our mutual love.  I loved her for her loving soul.  I loved her for making me feel special and included.  And I really loved her for daydreaming with me a little.. talking about things we’d both like now and distant maybes.  She made my fondest heart’s wishes feel like viable options among all of the options. 

We talked a bit about meeting wants and needs in poly, and all day long I thought about all the needs and wants SHE fills in me.  I needed a confidant that gets it and someone who would trust me to be there for them.  I needed someone else who thinks this stuff.  I needed someone who can face and deal with this stuff in themselves and their relationships and talk about it.  I need people who wouldn’t judge me or use my weakness against me, and who had my best interests at heart.  I needed someone trustworthy to trust me.  I needed this open heart.  I’m making my family with the romantic relationships and friendships and supporters in my life, and I needed her in it.  I think I might talk to them about Ohana and Hui.  I like the benefit and responsibility of Ohana.  I like the love and acceptance of Hui. 

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. 

I 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.

 

Confused? Yeah. I get that.

I was talking to Peaches about casual sex relationships, and she said she doesn’t like “feeling like the temp that never gets hired”.  Isn’t that a great metaphor?  It’s fun to have casual fun but a real bummer when all you meet is casual when you crave a little more.  I had to get her permission to use the quote.  It’s a good one, no?

Bosch- Garden of Earthly Delights

To be fair, neither one of us is remotely in that situation for real, but it does suck to feel that way and I know what she means.  We’re both in loving relationships with Traveler (and me with Cleveland) and she’s had her share of interest and just a couple of males who didn’t have the right interest for what she was seeking at the time.

I tried to explain how I want a very specific kind of casual when I want casual. 

One Year with Traveler

Today is the one year mark for Traveler and I.  One year.  Wow.

He started out as just a nice guy that offered to answer questions for me.  I needed a friend.  I got a friend, and a lot more.

I messaged him because he popped up in my matches and I was intrigued by his profile.  I didn’t know how to start a conversation, so I just said he’d popped up and I was intrigued and I wasn’t sure how to start a conversation.  He answered “I think you just did!”.  We kibitzed back and forth, and I admitted I’d liked his interests and that he read to his wife.  Something about that… a man that reads with his wife.  It sounded like a guy who appreciated intimacy and like a man who knew how to treat women.

He was flirty but nice.  He mentioned my caboose, but also wanted to know about the games I liked and how my trip to the Shakespeare festival had gone.  We chatted back and forth for a few days, sharing tidbits and interests and finally I confessed that I was actually pretty exhausted from poly drama and wondered if he’d like to be friends.  He responded that of course he’d be interested in just being friends, and that he’s been open a long time and could relate to drama stuff, and that if I’d like to talk he’d be happy to be a friend.

We chatted then on gmail, and arranged to meet and talk.  He told me about his own difficulties with open relationships and was really thoughtful and kind.  And dammit.. he was so damn cute.  I remember seeing him for the first time like it was yesterday.  He was wearing these nice pants and a purplish grayish shirt with just the collar unbuttoned.  He smiled really warmly and was so welcoming and sweet, and ridiculously cute.  I remember thinking that he was a little too cute for me and I was glad we’d decided to just be friends.  He was so open and warm and generously shared some of his own really private struggles.  I just liked him so very much.  He was intelligent and kind and sexy.  But we were just being friends.

Since it wasn’t a date, we got gyros and talked like old friends and then hit a poly meetup together, meeting my husband there. We were just friends, remember?  Anyway.. the meetup was odd and afterwards we hugged goodbye.  I sent him a message later that night or the next morning, and I thanked him for coming and for telling me such private stuff.  It had really helped.  He said, of course, “It was good to meet and talk with you.  I had fun, even if it was a little hard not to flirt with you when you looked up at me that one way you do”.  melt. 

I hadn’t picked up on him being attracted to me.  I guess I’m a little dull.  I said I hadn’t even guessed.  He said “well, you told me you needed a friend, so that’s what I was.  I was trying to be respectful and I enjoyed your company.” melt melt.

I told him I’d changed my mind and I wanted to date him.