So I mentioned life being fucked up. And yes, it is fucked up. Now let me tell you why.
Its no secret that my sexual relationship with The Husband is at best, uninspired, and at worst, non-existent.
That’s the reason I became non-monogamous in the first place–because after a years of not having my needs met, I was done. We came to this arrangement because if I didn’t start getting laid, our marriage would have ended anyway.
A couple months ago, I had a talk with him. It wasn’t one of our usual screaming matches about him not being into me. It was more just an inquiry. I asked him, “Do you not like sex?” And he doesn’t.
He said that realization didn’t click until the moment I asked. And honestly I was flabbergasted. How the HELL had he not realized this before? How can this possibly be the very first time he ever thought about this? We’d fought like cats and dogs. We’d both totally lost our self-esteem. We redefined our entire marriage around this problem and he’d never stop to ask himself if he likes sex???? What the actual fuck???
I asked him to explain, and he said he often enjoys it, but during almost every encounter there’s a moment of panic or a feeling that he really doesn’t like, and that makes it hard to enjoy the rest of it.
He said he never realized because he thought that everyone likes sex. It just never crossed his mind that the reason we had these problems was because he didn’t.
I let some time pass. But I couldn’t help thinking “This marriage is probably dead.”
(Stay Tuned for Part 2).
Ok. I’ve got it. I have no close friends and no real family to speak of. I have my husband but as amazing as he is, I try not to lean on him too much because he has a lot of his own demons to deal with. His lows can cause me to spiral, and mine can do the same to him, so we’re careful with each other.
My two best friends live on the other side of the country and I haven’t seen them in two years. Even when I lived back home we were in different cities and saw each other a few times a year tops. I miss them so much and I’m so lonely.
I don’t share much with work friends because most people wouldn’t get the poly thing so I leave them at arms length. When I spend enough time with them to realize they’d judge my life if I told them, I stop hanging out with them.
I tried to form a poly family and that was a disaster. It led to so much heartache for all of us that I really seriously doubt ever wanting to attempt something like that again.
Then there’s Boss Man and he has been close to me since the beginning. We right away felt like we could be open with and trust each other. Yes there was a sexual attraction and a really strong connection that isn’t quite “in love” and isn’t quite friendship but something else unnamable. And I was lonely and sad and I asked him to fuck me.
Whatever was between us caught fire and exploded and expanded and took on a life of its own. And since then we have been trying to make sense of it.
Maybe we’re in love or maybe we’re soul mates or maybe we’re just sexy friends or maybe we’re best friends or maybe we hate each other. Maybe he’s using me for sex or maybe I’m using him for sex or maybe we’re just both unimaginably fucked up and can’t help self destructing together.
Today I finally talked to him about it. I told him I felt like I had no real friends, and he was not my friend. That he’d only spend time with me if he wanted sex and that he keeps blowing me off when we make plans to hang out.
He told me he feels like I only want sex, or that if we hang out together we’ll end up back at his place fucking and be back to square one.
I told him the way things are is making me feel used, and that is would really prefer to just be his friend but I feel like sex is the only way to get him to spend time with me.
So. No more sex. No more kissing or ass grabbing or dirty texts. Not because we feel guilty or because we don’t want to get fired or because we have no future. Not because of external situations. Because we want to be in each other’s lives and fucking just screwed it up.
It occurs to me that I am not handling the end of the affair very well. It’s not horrendously painful anymore, but I haven’t moved on. My feelings for him don’t completely overwhelm me or drive me insane, but they are still there.
I want to be neutral towards him but I’m not. When he tells me he is pretty sure he and Tinder Girl are going to break up before the end of the month, I have to actively discourage myself from hoping that’s true. Because even if they do break up, and even if we started up again, it would just lead to more pain and misery down the road.
I desperately want to spend time with him, and it’s a little pathetic. He might mention that maybe we can do something on the weekend and even though he is notorious for bailing, I will either leave my weekend open and he won’t see me, or I’ll make plans and then he’ll want to see me. It always happens that way. It’s probably for the best, but I can’t help just wanting to know him better. I just want to soak up all the him-ness that I can, even just as his friend.
It’s not a very healthy situation. I cannot just put my phone away or say “Okay, I’m going out now, talk to you later” when he is texting me. I crave being able to talk to him, to the detriment of everything else.
At work, I literally live by his moods. Today I was dancing and I caught him looking at me, with that look, that “I fucking love you” look, and it made me so happy. And then in the afternoon I tried to joke around with him and he completely ignored me. I wanted to steer clear of him from then on because it is so bad how he affects me. Then he started sending me selfies, and instant mood boost. I’m fucking bi-polar for him. It’s sick.
I am looking for a new job, but no luck so far. I need professional help.
I keep dreaming about him. It is getting frustrating. I guess my subconscious is trying to work through this, because maybe I’m not doing a good enough job in my waking hours. I really, really just want to move on. I hate these dreams. I’m so sad when I wake up.
I met her. Tinder Girl. I thought it would be awful. That I’d hide in the bathroom crying, or be consumed by guilt, or wracked with jealousy.
Does it make me a terrible person that I felt none of those things? She is pretty, but has about 50 pounds on me. Funny, but not funnier than I am. A few times I caught Boss Man looking at her like he loves her. And instead of this making me crazy, I felt satisfied–because he looks at me that way, too.
I felt good. Like meeting her helped me separate her from Tinder Girl: The Myth, The Legend.
If I feel shitty about anything, it’s the fact that I don’t feel guilty. Maybe they will last forever, and good for them. Maybe he’ll never stray again, and that too will just be confirmation of the fact that he only did it because he loves me.
I am letting go, every day. Moving on. Some days how much it hurts still knocks the wind out of me, but most of the time I feel okay. Sometimes I can even think about him and smile.
If I am jealous of anything, it is their new beginnings. That awesome feeling when you’re just starting out. The child free time ahead of them. If she gets pregnant, that exciting phase. The new baby you are so in love with. Maybe I am addicted to beginnings. I miss them–that rush.
I still love him, but I am learning to love him for free. And him, me. We don’t owe each other anything. The love is enough. I think soon, I’ll be able to genuinely wish them well. She is a sweetheart and I trust her to love him.
He says he is crazy about me, but that this part of our relationship–the part where we are intimate, can’t stop touching, kissing, loving each other–is over. He says his girlfriend deserves better than what he has given her lately.
I know he is right. I need to let go. Why is it so hard? What is it that makes it so fucking painful to stay away from each other?
I can’t have him. I can’t. I can’t. He says he wants me but he can’t have me, but it’s the opposite. He can’t have me all to himself, that’s true, but I am the one who can’t have him at all, anymore. I would be his girlfriend, his love, his partner, but it wouldn’t be enough for him. So I am the one who can’t have him. It’s heartbreaking,but it’s fact, and I need to move on.
I need to let go. I need to say goodbye. Yet I can’t keep away from him. I have no choice. I am only hurting myself, we are only hurting us both. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I need to steer clear. Tomorrow, I need to make sure my eyes don’t meet his. Tomorrow, I need to open my hand and let go of whatever it was we had. Tomorrow, I need to put one foot in front of the other and walk away.
I love him. God, how I love him. But I will never have him again. Our friendship will need downtime. I will need space to heal. I will need to stop thinking of him as my love, because he isn’t. I don’t want to lose him altogether, but right now I need to focus on not losing me. I have been helpless to resist him, but tonight and tomorrow I will be strong. One foot in front of the other until I am gone.