Ready for the RainPosted: January 28, 2016
Where to start? Things are…interesting and painful and intense over here.
This past week was kind of a shit show. It was The Wifey’s birthday, and she had planned a birthday get together with her BF for Saturday/Sunday, and then Papa Bear took Monday (her actual birthday) off to spend with her. He invited me to spend Saturday night, and then we were going to take my kids to breakfast and hang out with them for part of the day while The Husband was at work.
There was a family emergency involving one of their relatives, and The Wifey’s mother and uncles flew in so they could visit this relative, which meant they crashed at the Wifey and Papa Bear’s house for a few days. The Wifey and Papa bear were upset. Things were awkward with The Wifey’s mom since they came out to her as poly, plus it meant their birthday weekend plans were pretty much out the window.
I was upset too, since I’d only had a total of two hours with Papa Bear last week and was really looking forward to actually getting to see him. Every conversation we had that week revolved around the problems he was having with The Wifey, and while I was happy to support him, I was exhausted. Hearing the way she was talking to and treating him made me angry and sad. I felt like staying home on Friday night, but a friend from work was having a birthday get together and I’d told her I’d go, so I went.
What I never seem to remember about these Friday night things, is to eat something beforehand. We eat lunch at 11:00 at work, and if I’m going to meet up with people at 7 and start drinking on an empty stomach, it is bad news. Papa Bear and I had been texting back and forth throughout the night, and around 10 pm I texted him and told him I was hammered and didn’t know how I was getting home. He asked me the address, and told me he’d be there in three minutes. I was in the middle of a card game (though at this point I was so drunk I was just throwing down cards at random), and told him I couldn’t leave yet. He told me to take a cab and he’d pay for it. One minute later (I checked the chat log), I said I would leave now then, since I wasn’t sure I could even make it to a cab, but he didn’t reply. I called a few times but there was no answer. I assumed his phone was in the other room, so I texted his daughter to ask her if she could tell him to call me.
Well, it turns out she wasn’t home, but I didn’t know that. And she ended up calling her mom (The Wifey), and asking her to tell him to check his phone. Except that apparently she was already in bed, and was furious at being woken up. I was confused, as I had replied that I would take the ride literally one minute later, and didn’t realized he’d already turned his phone off and gone to bed.
At this point I was pretty upset. He had been really, really late for our one date that week, which is why we only had two hours to spend together. His other free nights he’d said he was too tired and upset about fighting with The Wifey to see me. Then we ended up having to cancel our weekend plans because their family was in town, and now he knows I’m in a strange part of town I don’t know how to get home from, and he turned off his phone? A friend from work eventually called me a cab and helped me walk to it, and told him my address. The debit receipt shows I somehow managed to pay him, though I don’t recall this.
What I do recall is friends texting to make sure I got home okay. And in my drunken, neglected state, I felt like Papa Bear turning off his phone when he knew I might not be safe, meant that he didn’t care whether I was in bed or passed out on the front steps of my apartment building.
When I finally talked to him, I was sobbing. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t drive me home. I really hadn’t expected him to even offer, since his house was full of people. It was just the fact that he turned off his phone. My abandonment issues went through the roof. While he was talking me down, telling me he didn’t know how drunk I was, telling me that he’d been a bit hurt when I turned down his offer of a ride and that’s why he’d put his phone away, telling me that if he’d had any idea that I wouldn’t have been safe, he would have made sure to check on me, The Wifey was fuming because he didn’t just say “You’re drunk, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She said that by him talking to me, when she was having a messed up weekend, he wasn’t supporting her. They were sharing a bed for the first time in months, because guests were in Papa Bear’s room, but they weren’t up talking. They weren’t cuddling. She was fast asleep, and he was lying there uncomfortably trying not to sleep in order to avoid snoring and waking her. But because he got up and left the room to talk to me after she was already in bed, that meant that he wasn’t supporting her.
The next day I sent her a text apologizing for waking her up, explaining that I thought they were all awake in the same house and it would be a matter of “hey, go check your phone.” She didn’t reply to me, but she did issue him an ultimatum. Something to the effect of her being “done” with his and my relationship. That she was just “done.” He told her then, that they should probably think about breaking up.
He asked her what she thought about living platonically, or whether she thought he should move out. He says she told him “If we do that, it’s going to affect your entire life,” and “You don’t realize what you’d be giving up.” He told her that she had the right to self-determination, and if she couldn’t be happy in their relationship with him loving me, then there really wasn’t another option. He says she became really angry at this point, but he stood his ground. And the next day, when they talked, she said she got scared when she realized he was going to choose me (though I would argue it’s not a simple as me over her), and that she wanted to work things out.
She said if he gave her clear boundaries for their relationship, she would adhere to them. And he agreed to be honest about his thoughts, feelings, plans, and wants.
They are supposed to be having that discussion tonight.
We’ll see how it goes.
What can I say about how I feel? My biggest fear in our relationship–that she would say “It’s her, or me,” happened. But it didn’t play out the way I always thought it would. I always thought he would give me up.
I don’t know what would have happened if they had started to separate. I’m sure he would have had second thoughts–anyone would. I don’t know if those second thoughts would have meant he’d change his mind. The idea of an entire family imploding is terrifying. All I want is for some middle ground to be found, so that we can all live peacefully and amicably. I know the next few months, at least, are going to be really hard. I’m not sure if any of the decisions–for him to stay with me, for me to live with this dysfunction, for him to stay with her, or for her to stay with him– will stick.
Storm clouds are gathering. But I feel like I’m ready for the rain.