Reframing

It was such a brief conversation. No more than 10 minutes as we both walked the aisles of the grocery store. He was buying juice and diapers. I was buying basil and beer. The comments were almost tossed off. Asides to a larger conversation.

“You know I travel with a crew now.”

“She’s OK if we play, we just can’t fuck.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. In the cooler section. The 6 pack of apricot ale I’d just selected all of a sudden very heavy in my hand.

“Wait, what? We can’t fuck? Have you told her how you feel about me? How you’ve said you’ve felt?”

“Well baby, it’s not like we traded essays.”

And then he had to go. I could hear the baby starting to cry. I bit the inside of my cheek and willed my own tears to stay put. Crying in Safeway was not on my to do list that evening. But once I hit the parking lot I couldn’t hold them back. Somehow in the space of that conversation all of the pieces finally fell into place.

How he came here in January he didn’t tell her, because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. How he wouldn’t give her a straight answer when she found evidence of my last visit in his apartment. How he’ll step into the next room to take a call from her when he and I are together but my calls to him when she is there always roll to voice mail.

The truth is, that back in September, when she got pregnant and he told me she needed to know about me. He wasn’t entirely honest. He confessed his physical infidelity. He did not confess his feelings. And that makes all the difference.

We’ve had this discussion before. He always retreats to a position of me not wanting to share him. But that’s not the case. There has been plenty of extracurricular fucking around for both of us. I don’t care at all about that. What I care about is that there is a person in his life, who he readily admits there is a minimal relationship with, that still has this hold over him.

Even though, by his words, she’s not the smartest person. She has no drive. The sex isn’t good. She wants him to change any number of things about himself. That a five day vacation with her is four days too many. A woman who went off birth control without telling him and trapped him into having a child.

This is the person for whom you will make all kinds of concessions to spare her feelings?

This is the person you continually choose over me?

When I am the one you once said you wanted to spend a life time with. That made you think of marriage and children for the first time ever. The one you said finally gave you the freedom to be who you are. Who embraced your sexuality and made you feel normal.

Just because I’m the one with whom you can be open and honest and not filter anything, my feelings somehow don’t count? Because I’ll understand? I’m not OK with that.

And I’ve spent the majority of our relationship giving him the space he needed to deal with his situation. I think I’ve been more than understanding. All I have ever, ever wanted, from him or from anybody, is to be met in the middle. To know that he wants me around. I need people in my life who will fight.

And he’s lost his fight. He’s resigning himself to a life that he does not want.

I’ve spent the last several days crying. And sitting in the dark listening to the most melancholy jazz I own. Drinking. And fucking men I care nothing about just to distract myself a little.

I took his pictures down. Most of them.I’ve quietly told my closest friends. His photo will stay on my desk at work for a while. I need to take my time with that one. Even when I take it down he’ll be everywhere. On the cover of so many of our publications. Quite literally larger than life on a banner that hangs at my theater. And his head shot remains atop my piano.

I’m reframing our relationship. There will be no declarative email. No impassioned speech. I’m just letting him go. I’m no longer thinking of him as my primary partner. As my boyfriend Aaron. He’s just my friend. With whom there is a romantic past. And although the door is still open for a romantic future, he needs to be the one to walk through it. With purpose.

I’ll still talk to him when he calls. But no more calling him baby. No more “I love you.” No more random text messages that he doesn’t respond to anyway.

My needs are really very simple. I just need to know that I’m loved and that you want to be in my life. Remind me often if you have to. But assure me of that and there’s nothing I won’t do. There’s no end to my patience. Right now he just can’t give me that. And I deserve nothing less.

relationship status

Questions about my relationship status have become questions that I no longer know how to answer. Let’s review.

BOF-still a very important part of my life, but still entirely virtual. It’s been three and a half years. We don’t talk as much as we once did, not because we’ve grown apart, simply because of changes in schedules. When we do talk, it’s as though we just saw each other the day before. But there has been a shift. Even as I inked his symbol onto my back, we both knew that the day would come when I would meet someone closer, someone local, that would fill gaps that he could not, much as he may want to be that person. Our relationship has changed. It’s deeper. He’s become more of a trusted friend and sage counsel, with whom there is also the occasional steamy fuck via phone or web cam.

Hollywood-What was between Hollywood and I is basically over. The friendship remains, but the sexual aspect of our relationship has withered. At least for me. It will continue for a while, but it is on it’s last legs.

Aaron-There was a time when I would have married him in a heartbeat if he asked. I can’t say that now. And there was a time when my answer to relationship status was that I was happily partnered, that he was long distance, that it was an open relationship. I don’t even know how to categorize what we are to each other anymore. I still love him and I think still think that he’s going to be in my life on some level for a very long time, it’s just on hold. I’m taking the time to make sure it doesn’t wither and die, but it’s certainly not growing either.

PF-Oh PF. I’ve been trying to work this out in my head for days. Wanting to write about my feelings without sounding dismissive of the other relationships in my life. Because while it’s true that my feelings for Aaron were and are deep and intense, PF has managed to tap into parts of me that haven’t seen the light in years. Not since LH and I were dating. Or before. There’s a very real part of me that wishes we had met when we were both younger. Even though I know that we probably weren’t ready for each other then. But PF, like the others, is long distance. And must be shared.

So how do I answer the question about relationship status? Clearly my heart has its hands full. But there’s something still missing. There’s no one that is here for the day to day. Physically. Someone with whom I can just spend time in a room. Without planning vacation days and arranging for plane tickets.

It’s easy to meet someone in a bar and say, “yes I’m single.” But that’s not entirely true. But opening up the whole relationship spreadsheet over a casual drink is hardly attractive. So do I just omit? Even though the first time a person were to step into my apartment they’d see Aaron’s face in a frame atop my piano, on my desk, and again on my nightstand. Hollywood on my fridge. BOF and PF holding court on my dresser. And at what point in a casual relationship do you own up to all the complicated, distant others?

Hollywood and I have always been don’t ask, don’t tell. BOF and I largely don’t talk about others simply because it doesn’t matter. He patiently listens when I need advice or want to share, but what he and I have exists in a place that is very much separate from the rest of our lives. Aaron knows and doesn’t care about other partners. PF makes me feel like I”m cheating if I’m with someone aside from the other three written about here. Not because he has ever said anything to warrant that. Not because he has ever asked me not to do something. It’s just different with him. I haven’t quite worked it out yet. If we were in the same city and could see each other more often, I wouldn’t see other men, besides Aaron. Because I would want to give him that.

My facebook status has gone from saying “in an open relationship” to “its complicated”. Because truly, it is.

wish you were here

It’s the stuff of advice columns in women’s magazines. Reassurances that it’s healthy and normal to think about one person while you’re in bed with someone else. That if your partner does it, it doesn’t mean you’re loved or desired any less. I get that. I know that. It has never been an issue for me. Until tonight.

With the notable exception of one relationship, I’ve always had a very full and happy sexual life. Even in high school I managed to balance multiple partners. If they didn’t overlap they at least followed close on each others heels. I like variety. I get bored. Now that I’m older I’ve simply discovered the labels polyamory and swinging to describe how I conduct my relationships.

But I’ve never been with someone and wished it was someone else. Not in bed. There may have been a passing thought or two somewhere along the way. But largely, I’ve always been present. Wholly tuned in to the person in my arms.

I spent the bulk of the afternoon with someone today. A man I’ve not known for very long. We met via my other blog, my sex blog. This was technically our third date. I don’t have anything bad to say about him, but I know that he’s someone that will only be a passing fancy. He’s pleasant to speak to, pleasant to look at. He seems to want to do more than just sleep with me, something that’s refreshing considering he’s both local and available. He’s fine. I enjoy my time with him. I’m looking forward to having him around for a while. There’s just a spark that’s missing.

A spark that has ignited into full flame with someone else. I also met PF through that blog. But PF and I have embarked on a journey together. There are feelings growing between us. I’ve opened myself up to him in ways that make me feel incredibly vulnerable. And in return he has pulled me to him and made me feel safe and secure.

But its more than that. I cherish the intellectual connection between us. The emotional connection we’re establishing. But I also ache for him. I’m counting the minutes until we take the first of many trips together. I’m desperate to feel his lips on mine. To feel his arms around me.

So today when I was on my date, something happened that has never happened to me. I closed my eyes and imagined it was PF that was in my bed. To say that I fantasized it was him does not go far enough. It was him. It was his chest my head was lying upon. His legs tangled in mine. His hands. His mouth. His body.

As my hands gripped his, pushing against him in pleasure, eyes shut tightly, all I could think of was PF. Each time his head dipped between my legs or his hands found my breasts, I felt PF.  I had to concentrate hard to not call the wrong name. When he curled up behind me and clutched me tightly to him, I felt PF.

I felt guilty. I know that this man, my date, and I are not beholden to each other. We’re both pretty clear on the nature of our relationship. We both have other partners. Neither of us is looking for a deep emotional connection. But still. I’d be mortified if he could have heard the thoughts in my head.

It’s one thing to fantasize about someone else. But this was more like letting someone be a stand in. Simply a warm body to provide me what PF can’t right now. My body was in that bed, but my head was in another place all together.

clarification

I feel the need to clarify something. Perhaps that’s not the best word, since technically no one has asked any questions. Maybe it’s just that I’ve showered and so I’ve sobered up and I just have more to say.

Agreeing to become a mistress. I tossed that out in the last post. Here’s the thing.

There’s a person who has wandered into my life. We’ve spent some time chatting, emailing, texting, and now one phone call. So far I think he’s pretty great. I’ve got a pretty good gut instinct for such things. I’ve always been able to make accurate character judgments fairly quickly.

There’s a lot to like about this guy. In fact, he’s the kind of guy that I could love, but that’s another post for another day. He’s married. With children. And has invited me to join him on a business trip this summer. I have agreed. Because I really enjoy him. Because I’d like to see where this goes.

It’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation. I’m like a flame to the married man moth. I typically don’t ask lots of questions of the men who wander in and out of my life. I was married. I was unfaithful. I believe people who are truly happy in their closed relationships don’t arbitrarily cheat.

There’s something comfortable about a relationship with a married guy. There’s no ambiguity. Expectations are clear. The offering on the table is clear. I still get to have my life and do as I please. And while I’m certainly capable of taking care of myself, I’ve found that I enjoy having men around who want to take care of me. And there’s something about married guys, they like to take care of people. There’s a stability that you don’t find as readily with the unattached.

So there you go. The dirty truth. I like dating married men.

But I’ve not entirely reconciled it with my personal code of ethics. Because while it’s true that I don’t ask lots of questions. That I won’t judge someone else for something I’ve done. There’s a flip side that I’m all too aware of.

Because LH was also unfaithful. Or, I strongly suspect that he was. And I know how hard that was for me. So when I know that I”m getting texts and emails and pictures from someone in a closed relationship, on the sly, a little tiny corner of my heart breaks for the other person in the triangle. The one who knows nothing.

It makes me question things. Knowing how hurt I’ve been by this activity, how can I knowingly play accomplice to it? If I simply turn the other cheek, refusing to seek out married men, but not turning them away when they come to me, does that make it better? Or does that make it worse?

I’ve contemplated simply closing the door. Refraining from any sort of relationship with someone who isn’t free. But then there’s BOF. He’s married. And I’ve absolutely no intention of leaving him. So where would my resolve get me then?

Aaron? His other girlfriend knows about me, but she’s not entirely hip to the polyamory set up. There’s a lot we hide from her. He never told her that he came out to see me in January. I’m not planning on leaving him any time soon either.

And now the new guy. The new guy who I’m very much drawn to. I actually really enjoy thinking of myself as his mistress. It’s a role I’m comfortable in. It’s a role that I think I play very well.

It’s not that I don’t know where to draw the line.  It’s that I don’t even know if there is a line with me any more.

held

Tonight I found solace in the arms of a man. A man I’ve seen before. I’ve had encounters with he and his pseudo-girlfriend. He’s someone whose company I very much enjoy.

He sent me an email last night. A perfectly cocky email.

My place tomorrow night. 8 pm. You and me. Another girl? In?

We weren’t able to round up another girl. We each have some standbys but no one was available at the last minute. So it was just the two of us. Aaron knows about him. The two of us playing solo is not an issue for the man’s girlfriend.

We had a glass of wine. We sat on his big leather couch and talked quietly for a while. My hand placed on his thigh. His hand lightly stroking my hair.

And then we adjourned to the bedroom. We got down to business fairly quickly. I knew from previous conversations why he wanted to play solo with me. I was happy to oblige. He and I are both a couple of dirty whores anyway.

But afterward we curled up together and just held each other. Fully naked. Bathed only in candlelight. My fingers trailing through the hair on his chest. Lightly kissing his shoulder. His arm wrapped around me. His hand finding mine and our fingers tangling together.

As much as I enjoy him and feel comfortable around him, I was not expecting that. But I’m so glad that it happened. Because more than anything lately what I’ve needed most is to just be held.