It took me a month to write this...

This will perhaps be my final entry for this blog. This space has helped me through a major life crisis, and has seen me through some of the darkest moments of my life. It has helped me critically analyze my thoughts, actions and behaviors in a time of desperate isolation. I have tried, over the past two years, to be as honest as I could here, that is, to the extent that I was aware of my own self. I realize now that there was so much more beneath the myriad levels of surfaces that I barely began to scratch in this endeavor. As I see it, this blog was created in an attempt to harbor my secrets from my husband. In a way, I wish I never created this site. I wish that I had just been more forthcoming with him on that trigger-day when I decided that I was attracted to M -- the man from work who started this whole mess so long ago.

And now that it is too late for childish wishing, now that my marriage-in-infancy comes to a close, I find it appropriate to also bring this medium of communication to a close. My life is changing drastically, and I have a tumultuous path ahead. It may be months, years, or maybe never... for me to fully grieve and mourn my loss of losing the man I believed for so long to be the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I know there are those readers out there who truly despise me for what I have done to my husband. I have broken his heart, this is true. But what is less observable is that my husband and I were of one heart, at some point, and so that broken heart is also mine to bear. It is so much easier to label me as perpetrator, as evil-doer, as cold-hearted bitch. And for those of this mindset, I offer nothing but compassion because it is apparent to me that the experience of pain runs so deep that it blinds us all to the true healing power of kindness.

Before I say my farewells however, I shall attempt to explain my current state of mind, state of living, and state of affairs. I have moved out of our home, back in with my parents. H and I have filed a separation agreement. We are sorting through the finances, and we have been living separate lives for almost two months. I suppose you could say we're taking the necessary steps toward divorce. Financially, it's going to be tough, probably for a few years, but manageable. I seem to be fortunate in that I am ably-employed, and so long as I continue to be able to work on my feet, I should be able to maintain my household without being dependent on my husband financially.

I am continuing to see YoungMan, despite all the advice of well-intentioned friends, family members and online self-help articles. I am seeing a therapist on my own to work through many of these relationship issues that I have recently discovered about myself, in light of what has happened with H. I am overcoming a dark & powerful, yet thankfully brief glimpse down that wretched alley of suicidal thoughts. I am battling the difficult judgments of disapproval, shame, and disappointment from my closest loved ones, and attempting to get through it all with some modicum of self-respect.

Throughout my relationship with H, I had been living multiple fractured lives. The "me" that I was with him was different than the "me" I was with friends, and different still from the "me" that I was with family. Sure, we all may show different faces of our selves to various people, but in this case, I don't feel I had an integrity of self that carried on strong from person to person. I merely reflected the roles that I thought others wanted me to perform. I found out too late that the "me" I was with H was someone I didn't want to be. And with all the dishonesty that I had built into all the relationships around me (from the time I was a child) I was able to live for far too long, in a skin that I, in actuality, did not want.

I've learned about certain emotional needs that I have. Needs that I was never aware existed, and so easily ignored. Needs that determined how happy I could be, and how happy I was. H fulfilled many of those needs early on in our relationship, but because I wasn't fully aware of which emotional triggers were most important to me, when a lack began to develop between us, I didn't know how to identify the problem. My lack of understanding then translated to my inability to communicate those needs to my husband. His lack of empathy for my unhappiness also led to a further drifting apart of our closeness -- our bond that should not have been so easily severed. These were seeds that had been sown two years ago, long before I ever let my heart stray into another man's open arms.

I know that there is a pattern I have now set -- a pattern of abandonment, where I leave the ones who love me. In every major relationship that I've had, it always ended because I strayed and chose to leave. In fact, in retrospect, I always subconsciously chose to leave first, and then I cheated, in order to leave the relationship for good. It was as if unless I cheated, there would be no good reason to up and leave the amazing person I was with. As if, I had to force myself to do something extreme and Unworthy, to make that other person not be able to stand to remain with me any longer. And if, for some miracle, that person decided that they wanted to stick around, then I still pushed the envelope and said goodbye. I think I'm starting to understand the reasoning behind all of this twisted behavior. I think in the past I've always chosen lovers who I knew would set me on a pedestal. I knew they would cherish me and hold me as if to never let me go. Given my independent nature, this is a surefire way to race down a path that feels constricting and eventually terrifyingly trapped. A coworker once said to me "damn, you're dangerous." Upon asking for clarification, he replied "well, it's like this: men fall in love with you too fucking fast. Right away they're head over heels for you, aren't they?" And as I thought about it, it's true. Or at least, it's true that they think they're falling for me. H -- 2 1/2 weeks and he tells me he's in love with me. FunBuddy -- 3 times of having sex together and he admits to thinking he's falling for me. CoworkerFriend -- slept with him once and he told me he completely understands why someone would want to marry me, in order to wake up next to me everyday. 5 Past Lovers going back 10 years -- all within a few weeks of spending time with me, they're in love, visions of happily ever after, and in fact a relationship always follows. Is it that I am so flattered by this love-at-first-sight mentality that I allow myself to be swept away by the romance of it all? That, despite any reservations I may have, I pursue a relationship because it simply feels so good to be loved? Perhaps it is true. I suppose now I seem to be questioning whether or not that's a stance to accept as a relatively healthy one to have, or to reject it as an unhealthy approach to relationships altogether. I really don't know, but I'm working on it.

The website, Marriage Builders was so helpful to me in understanding why my marriage got to where it is now. Ironically, a website that's supposed to help me fix the broken marriage that I'm in is actually more helpful as a tool for establishing guidelines for a future significant relationship. One of the things I've alluded to in this post that I've taken from this doctor's theories is the idea of "Important Emotional Needs". I urge anyone who even questions the stability of their relationship to read these theories. The writer clearly and succinctly outlines what he perceives as the things we search for in our relationships, that ultimately determine our happiness, feelings of love & loving others, and solutions to typical problems that arise from not having these needs met. The thing that surprised me the most was that throughout the progression of my relationship with H, I became less and less self-aware, as though H's love for me numbed my sense of self-growth and personal progress. When I read the list of emotional needs, I identified mine rather easily, and yet was surprised at what they were. Even more surprising was how accurate they were in the elements that were slipping away in my marriage with H. I can't help but question if I had known these things earlier... if I was more in touch with my innermost feelings, if maybe I would have had a better time communicating with H, and maybe it never would have come to this. However, hindsight is always 20-20, and the reality of the situation is that it has come to this. We are in fact here at this juncture, and I am in reality, a survivor. I hope that at some point my H and I can become friends and sort through what we've been through. I don't know how possible that is, given the intensity of our relationship, but I would like that eventually.

Right now I am focused on regaining my sense of self-control and self-awareness. I'm taking the necessary steps to move forward in my life financially, healthfully, emotionally, and relationally. My new relationship with YM is amazingly fulfilling, and I find great joy in spending time with him. I'm experiencing brand new levels of vulnerability that are challenging for me, and frightening. But I'm aware of it and able to head it off at the start from turning into indifference and emotional distancing. He's able to read me so easily and can sense my every reaction, in ways I've never experienced, or felt so welcomed with another person. I have the feeling that our future is bright, but I'm not going to fall into my typical trap of envisioning perfection at every step. I've learned to accept my need for "imperfect space" -- the ability to say that I've failed, that it's okay, and to learn from those mistakes, rather than aspiring blindly and working hard for ultimate perfection consistently, such that even the tiniest of errors leads to an unbearable pain of disappointment in myself. I'm learning to quiet those disenfranchising voices that are persistently degrading my spirit and my strength. I think that YM has a great deal to do with how far I have come, in feeling accepted, despite my flaws, in feeling loved, because of them. There is something between us that allows us to be incredibly forgiving and open with one other. But I think ultimately it's the level of awareness that permeates our relationship that draws strength into our bond.

All in all, I'm feeling strong, calm, and in-touch. I feel as though my tender sapling is able once more to grow roots in fertile soil, and I am filled with hope that one day I can grow to have the grace, strength and beauty of a firmly planted and generously fruiting gift-tree. Until then, I shall find fulfillment in whatever bounty I can muster.

Thank you once again, to my readers who have been so kind as to drop by with notes and emails. I may end this blog temporarily, or permanently; I have yet to decide. Until I decide, this will probably remain online as is. I'm sure some day I will either change it or end it for good. I hope peace may come to all those in need of it. And I wish you all the best in life. Namaste.

Even More is Changing

I have gone to see an individual therapist, to help sort through all the confusion that I have been living. When I was sitting there explaining the situation to her, I was shocked and appalled at what picture I was painting. But that picture is the very thing I have been avoiding, and the very truth I have not wanted to admit for a very long time. Much of it I held back in couples' counseling, and even held back from myself.

When H and I first began our journey together, it was almost as though I was a blank slate. I was a young adult just coming into the world, with few attachments and tons of dreams. The world was at my fingertips, and my passion for life was inspiring and contagious. H reflected my passion back to me, and was experienced, full of knowledge and had a wisdom of his own. He allowed me to be free in all of my creative endeavors. For the first time in my life, I felt fully celebrated and cherished. I thought "this is a good man -- a man I want to have in my life". Only, there were two things that bothered me and I let them sit aside. One thing, I believed to be unnecessary, really a fool's hope, and the other, I thought would go away. The first thing I have never admitted anywhere... that our first kiss, and subsequently most every kiss thereafter, lacked the spark, the zing, the passion that I had hoped for. But the sex was good. So I thought "perhaps he just doesn't like kissing". I didn't think that passionate kissing could be so important. Perhaps it was just a romantic image of puppy love, and I thought that a mature and honest relationship meant letting go of such images. The second thing, which has been the entire issue at hand, was his immediate closing off to the idea of polyamory and an open relationship. These two aspects were the only "cons" in deciding whether or not I wanted to pursue a relationship with him, and the "pros" significantly outweighed them. Now, as we are facing a real separation, I am floundering to remember what all those "pros" were, and in fact I am questioning the entire process by which I came to such a decision.

I realize now that each one of us has personality traits that exhibit themselves in both beneficial and harmful manners. There is no real list of "pros" that remain in that column for good. In fact, we oscillate our heads and tails constantly, and it's through these various interactions that we navigate the best path. We each attempt to seek a balance in life that allows for more benefit than harm, but sometimes lines get blurred and crossed. I wonder if maybe I decided to marry for wrong reasons. If my sight was blurred by the prospect of perfection. I really thought that H was perfect for me. Why couldn't I see that notion as problematic? Why couldn't I allow imperfection into the early stages of our relationship so that we would know how to deal with real problems as they arise. Instead, we both operated under such an extreme sense of delicate beauty that now real trouble has no stable base from which to evolve. Instead, I am finding myself running away, emotionally vacant for any sort of reconciliation.

I have been reading more about divorce and the whole process of it, emotionally, financially, etc. I've discovered even more about what truths I don't want to admit... It feels like I don't have the patience to "work through" our marriage troubles. I, as the "Leaver" in this relationship, have been experiencing an emotional detachment from my husband for well over a year. I have hindered good communication with him by deliberately avoiding various subjects. I have hidden an entire chunk of my sexuality from him (not just hiding my desires to experience other people, but even the waning of sexual satisfaction between us), simply to avoid the emotional messiness involved. I don't blame H at all for any of my detachments, but I do mourn the loss of our path together. I also feel extremely responsible for bringing this situation to reality. However, I am finished with feeling responsible for his emotional state. This is something I have to come to terms with; for entirely too long, I have taken his emotional health in my own hands -- the ups, the downs, everything in my eyes was dependant upon my actions and my behaviors. But his world can not revolve around me. He made me the source of all his happiness, and I allowed that to continue on. And in return, I led him to believe the same... that he was the only source of my happiness. It was an ego boost for both of us, but one that ultimately lacked a true depth of honesty and integrity. I don't see how a relationship based on this sort of foundation can just heal and move forward. It seems to me that the whole thing must be razed and rebuilt from scratch. And in all honesty, if I am going to start from scratch, I'd like to do it in full consideration of the aims and goals I'd like to see happen in the future, from financial & business goals to emotional, sexual, relationship and family visions. This means an entire remodeling of my life. I'd like to say I still have hopes that this future has room for my H, that I would like him there, but everything he is telling me now says otherwise. He and I don't share similar goals, financially, sexually, or in terms of family. I had believed that all of our "life-changing" decisions were based on teamwork and true concensus, but it's becoming clear to me that in fact we made too many important decisions based on wanting to please the other and not facing our selves honestly. Not healthy.

Where does my relationship with YoungMan lie in all of this? H thinks that my decision to keep seeing him is not a good one; that, not only is it continuing to break H's heart, but he thinks I'm mistaken to believe that this other relationship could be at all beneficial to me. It may be true that statistically, relationships that begin with deceit (ie. from an adulterous affair) end eventually. And it may be true that what might develop between me and YoungMan is tainted with this separation from my H. Tainted with psychological shit -- unresolved crap that might arise again between us. I can't foresee the future any more than the next person, so I really don't know what will happen. However, I do know that on a personal, individual level, I am committed to bringing out the skeletons of my closet, and dealing with them as honestly as I can. And as long as YoungMan is open to being honest with me, as best as he knows how, then all we can do is take it one day at a time. I know that I am still dealing with my relationship with H. I haven't signed him or us off completely. I know that it will probably continue for a long time, and may never come to full resolution. But given the results of this phase of my mental clarity, I do think this separation is the best decision at this point. So I will be moving out over the next week. Just in time for the holidays...

is it time?

YoungMan and H are both saying the same thing to me: "what do you want?" For someone who has been so sure for so long about what she wants out of life, why am I finding it so difficult to take this next step? My wants, my needs, my physical and emotional desires... they are all at odds with one another. And the "shoulds" are speaking so loudly, shouting, and they are so strong, but I know I can not be led by "shoulds" alone. H and I could never have a fulfilling marriage if it is only obligation that keeps us together.

What *do* I want??

. a fresh start with YoungMan
. stability with H
. a place of my own
. a long and happy life with H
. the time and capacity to "date"
. to be "single" and still have H in my life
. more time to spend with YoungMan, guilt-free
. a shared life with H, where we can each wander in and out of it
. fulfilling sex, and lots of it
. for H to be less insecure

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I used to be proud to say that I am relatively "low-maintenance" as a romantic partner. I generally don't demand very much, I don't need constant affirmation, I don't nag, I don't need to be treated like a princess to be happy, I don't need lots of gifts and material objects. In fact, it's the very simple pleasures that elicit the most deeply profound joys... but it seems the few desires that I do choose to voice are simply too much for most men to handle. I fucking like sex -- keep me satisfied and I will coo and curl up in your arms and adore you. If you find you can't keep me occupied, then let me find other avenues. Is that so much of a challenge to a man's sense of machismo?

My H's insecurities are something I need to respect. I understand that certain things make him feel very vulnerable. The fact that he is aware of these things and trusts me enough to expose himself in this way is wonderful and says a lot about where he places me in his scheme of things. The fact that it has taken me 5 years to expose my deep vulnerabilities with him says something about me and where I stand in our relationship. This whole time that I've been "protecting" him from feeling the pain of my truths means I haven't trusted him, and I haven't trusted our relationship to withstand my weaknesses. It seems apparent that my instincts were right... that neither he nor our relationship can take the abuse of my darkest desires.

I think I want to take a time-out. I need to re-group, and find my center again. There's too much confusion. Love is everywhere. Love is all around. And yet it's not about love. It's about knowing yourself, knowing your own needs, and choosing to live in such a way that you get them fulfilled, without hurting the people around you. And in this situation, I'm just not sure if that's possible. I'm not sure if H can have his needs met by me without creating a situation that will ultimately hurt me, and I'm not sure if I can have my needs met by him. I'm even less sure of what YoungMan and I can give to one another, and I don't want to use that blossoming relationship as a crutch either. Whatever happens between us, I want to happen spontaneously, freely, and from a place within -- not as the result of a rebound, or the whole host of external factors.

H and I are "talked-out" right now. Every conversation we have is loaded with painful emotions, and heavy meaning. We're both seeking distraction right now, to avoid the situation between us. When we talk again, maybe I'll have the courage to ask for that time-out.

What is the status?

I am beginning to come to terms with the truths we all share, and the lies we all hide behind. Recognizing these elements has given me exactly the freedom I have been yearning, the freedom without a name, the freedom without a face. My husband and our therapist have been asking me extremely difficult questions, questions I've been avoiding for so long. Questions I've feared, questions I've tried to get around without truly asking myself. H has been doing amazingly well, given the extent of the hurt and the wounds that have opened between us. He is recognizing things that I've longed to communicate to him, all on his own, without my initiative. He is stronger than he thinks he is, and I am more compassionate than I've ever thought I could be. The status of where we are is... Unsteady. H has brought up the idea that perhaps a separation might be a solution. I keep fighting against that. His insecurities and wounded pride flare up over things that would never have triggered such emotions in the past. Hair in the sink, my 'true' whereabouts, days at work, things that make his mind wander to alternate possibilities. I understand these fears. I've experienced them myself, with him, with others. Insecurities that breed jealousy and fear. Insecurities that make your imagination go wild. Early in our relationship, H had beautiful connections with friends from his past. He and I were so new at the time, and I had no clue where I fell, with respect to those other relationships. I was very insecure. I read his emails in secret. I listened in on his phone calls. I pretended to be asleep when in actuality I was awake, so that I could overhear their deeply intense, drug & alcohol induced late-night conversations. I know how disgusting that feels to be there, and I know how small that type of insecurity makes you feel. I would never wish that upon my H, or upon anyone. Those feelings I think are natural to feel, and they are not only acceptable, but necessary. These are the points in life that are accentuated by the decisions we make -- they are truly crossroads, where we must be emphatic in whatever choices we make. These are the times for the most important examinations that will impact the rest of our lives. My life. H's life. He has his own decisions to make, his own choices, his own paths to investigate. I personally think that it's in both of our best interests to continue allowing for our paths to remain near each other. Perhaps not on top of, identically, but definitely Near.

There are so many details... and they are floating all around me in snippets, in images, in sounds. I can not fully articulate them all here, but as they come, I shall try. The issues between me and H have been brewing for so long, and my superior ability to ignore them and overlook them have put us in this corner, struggling against an invisible monster -- it attacks us when we least expect it, at times when we're most vulnerable and disappears when we're most ready to fight it. And so we're left confused, dazed, and yet we're still standing. Life keeps swirling on around us, and brief moments of clarity step forth to keep us going.

I am still talking to YoungMan -- it is something that I have actively chosen. I have not made this clear to H, and so it may be that I am bringing a fog over us. But that is my choice. WDKY and Anonymous have both criticized my actions as lacking in responsibility, filled with cowardice and unfulfilling, as appropriate action. I don't deny any of those claims. I am not going to defend any of my actions here in this arena, as this is not that place to do so. This blog is my space, to write as I see fit, and I will not allow my safe-haven to be poisoned. That being said, I always welcome challenging inquiries, as I am aware that varying perspectives do ignite analysis and examination in ways not otherwise possible. I only request that they be presented as such, and not cloaked in judgment, hatred, and pure emotional violence. It does no good for anyone here.

YoungMan and I share a connection that is, best put, In the Momentary. We experience the act of living exactly as it occurs. Our thoughts, our actions, our present states bounce off each other and we are simply beings that enjoy each others' company. Present states change into newer present states, and with that comes radical shifting of emotional expressions between one another. The whole range of feelings flow through unoccupied channels between us. It's an incredible experience, really. There is no real justifiable way to compare what I have with YoungMan to what I have with H. They are completely separate states of being. Different parts of my mind, spirit and heart are touched and engaged with these two, and I'm okay with that. Is it true that I am not considering their outcomes, that I am just power-hungry and taking taking taking whatever I can from each of them? That's a judgment call that every onlooker can decide for themselves (or already has). The only judgments I am concerned with are those of my self, my H, and of YoungMan's. All others fall to the side, and eventually dissipate into the ether.

I am still hopeful for coming into our own, self-identified acceptance. Acceptance of ourselves, of one another, of the circumstances, of the lives we each choose. Through all of this, I am still hopeful.

How Can I Do It?

Sex. That's all it was supposed to be. YoungMan and I stepped into this situation with all the same expectations. It was going to be NoStringsAttached. We had amazingly hot sex one night, and we just wanted more of it. That's all there was to it. So why couldn't we remain in that realm? Perhaps we were too similar and our fates were already wound together, even without our knowledge. The way we talk, the way we walk side by side, the way we laugh and joke and play and fuck -- it's all so easy, so natural, so good. We've brought out beautiful things in one another and the time we've spent together feels like it was in a vacuum, free of the natural constraints that time and space place on matter.

On Thursday, I faced the most difficult challenge I have ever come across. How do you confess to being in love with someone and then in the next breath ask for time apart? And still that's exactly what happened. We both knew it was happening all along. We both felt our heart-strings singing an ancient song, and while our conscious selves were trying to ignore it, our transcendent beings danced in the revelry of it all. On Thursday, I went to go see YoungMan in person, after having not seen him in almost two weeks. Twelve days is all we could manage being apart. After twelve days of only text messeges, emails and phone calls, I finally saw his sweet, lovely, beautiful face. And the mere sight of him filled me with such strength. As though all of my questions were answered, as though Life gave me a gift of assurance and the understated single head-nod of affirmation, his smiling eyes took me to a plane of simple, unmediated joy.

And yet, the purpose of that visit... was to make a break. At the last session with the therapist, H, Dr. and I all "agreed" that I should stop all communications with YoungMan. Though I know rationally that it's probably best for the mending of wounds between me and H, I do not want this for me & YoungMan. The uncertainty of the future carries with it so much possible loss, and I fear the tender bud of our connection will not weather a harsh winter of dormancy. I fear his heart will harden and say its goodbyes to me, to us, to this relationship-in-infancy. We spoke of all this when we saw each other. I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. I actually asked him to wait for me. I've never asked that of anyone. I've never allowed myself to be so vulnerable to loss, to rejection, to the possible answer of 'No.' But I did, and after having seen him, I believe he will, and is doing exactly that. There is something strong, vibrant and resilient between us, and despite all the uncertainty, I know that we have something special that will carry on.

I told H that I would attempt a real go at being sexually exclusive with him. He is still hurting and insecure about the sex-stuff and all the comparison issues that come along with knowing about others, and I understand that only the knowledge and trust that all that has stopped can give him the security to begin his healing. I also told him that I know it will be difficult for me, and I hope he can be understanding of that. I can feel that this new arrangement will be heavy on me, and I know that I am at the edge of a very deep, dark pit, easily teetering into a long fall of cold and darkness. At the same time I know that this whole situation has in fact brought us closer. I've opened myself to H in ways I never imagined I ever could. And our interactions together have reflected more of an awareness toward one another than ever before. I think this will be a very difficult path, but one that already has presented us with more closeness and more mutual respect for one another.

H has said to me that maybe he can change. That it will take time, but that he thinks he may be able to change. I don't know what that means at all, but if it's being said to give me hope, then it's working. Though I feel emotionally tired, trying to sort through all these issues, there is still a thread of optimism that runs through me. I don't know how, but I feel deep down that things will work themselves out eventually. I do know however that I have an incredible support network all around me of caring individuals (online and offline), and I'm so lucky for that. Thank you to everyone here who has offered your kindness to me. You will never know how much it has helped me through these extrememly difficult times. I hope to respond to emails and questions that have been presented to me here in time. There's still a lot of murkiness to get through, but it's all going to take time. I'm beginning to feel once more that time is indeed my friend... here again, one day at a time.

I do not feel like writing.

I do not feel like writing. I do not feel like cleaning. I do not feel like doing anything of any importance. The only thing I want to do I cannot do because I have injured my ankle. Our latest session with the counselor has peeled back a few more layers, and I'm not sure that I was ready for such exposure. I am tired. I feel emotionally spent and I feel like doors are closing all around me. Agreements are being made and I feel like I'm being held captive and signing on the dotted line because I'm tired and thirsty and I just want to get out. I don't know what's best, for us, for me, for him. I know what I want and I know that right now it's an impossibility.

People enjoy being around me because I'm carefree, because I'm honest, because I make them playful and honest with themselves. People love me because I fill them with joy and they know my caring is true and faithful. And yet as time goes on, when I expose what it is I need to remain carefree, it is too much to give to me. The worry, the anxiety, the pain, the insecurity all come crashing in with an unbearable weight. Attachment has settled in and I am grasped. My needs for exploration and a long, very long leash is often an impossibility because I have made it seem that the short leash is all that I need. My unerring faithfulness has blinded him to my desires for freedom. And when I pull back the sideblinders, he stands, kicking in fright, as the visual noise comes tumbling in around him -- all the dangers, all the blaring brightness that shrinks his pupils, constricts his veins and makes his heart beat as though death is on its way.

And then there's YoungMan's pain. With new circumstances on the horizon, a dark, shadowed cloud hovers over us. And the tears of heavy sky fall down all around us. We are marked. I want to peer into the future, simply to know what happens between us. One way or the other, I want to know so that we may have some sense of what to expect. Feelings are so strong, but will they remain? Can our connection truly stand the test of time? Can we pause for a day, a week, a month, a year? People change over time, and life journeys are transformed. What are the chances that who we are then will continue to beat in rhythm as we do now? But then there's also the magic of two people bumping along beside one another, who's footpaths weave in and out through trees, through meadows, along streams, and they are unaware of the other's presence, until one day it becomes obvious that they've travelled together for so long, have been together for so long. That magic is real, and I believe in it. It's rare, but it's real. I know I've experienced it, and I'm thoroughly grateful for those glimpses into the brightest clarity this life can offer.

I am not much of a religious person, but I believe that the closest thing to Divinity is being able to make contact with the innermost, genuine, and honest spirit-center of another person. I've always believed that various people enter your life for profound reasons, and all it takes is recognizing the pause between breaths to peer into and experience the sanctity within them. I do have faith that what's happening between me & H and me & YoungMan is for good reason. Absolutely there could have been better ways at getting to where we're headed, but this life is, after all, imperfect. Without those cracks and shadows, there would be no way of knowing that our blood pumps red, that our skin shivers cold, and that air travels through our lungs shaky and fast when we go to extreme lengths. Extremes that outline how fragile and how sacred our humanity truly is.

An old saved post, and then some

I wrote this on the 23rd.

still not coherent or energized enough to write clearly, or articulate matters. so much talking, so much confusion. so much emotion. he is clearly aching to a further extent than I. and that is natural. he keeps saying he doesn't blame me and he tells me it's such a normal thing. affairs happen all the time. it's two separate issues, and they keep getting muddled. my request for freedom. muddled by the discovery of another man. he never wanted to know. he always wanted to be in the dark, to preserve this bubble of innocent love that existed between us. and I was right. he knew deep down that I was out there, playing on the side. and i was right. he never wanted to know for sure. fuck if only I could have kept this emotional experience a secret too, we could have kept on going... but the caveat. the arrangement between us was if there ever arose something more than just sex, we had to talk about it. so here we are. talking about it. and crying. and experiencing loss.

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And now, today (28th of October):

Wow. I don't even know where to begin. It's been six days since my last post and so much has happened. H and I have gone to see a therapist. I haven't seen YoungMan in over a week. And time keeps moving forward. So many questions to answer. So many things upon which to meditate. It is unending. During the first 3-4 days of everything having come out into the open, there was so much pain and agony. I did not know whether it would ever end. I was unsure if H could ever feel the same for me ever again. Same is maybe not best, but I was so full of fear that he could not truly love me for who I am, for all my pitfalls, for all my imperfections. We indeed had an idyllic relationship. We indeed had arguments, fights, passionate fights about issues large and small, but that just added to the perfection of our life together. And what is that perfection? How can it be described? This is one thing that the therapist asked of us. She questioned why, after learning about the affair, after learning about my desires and about the seeming incompatibility of that with H's needs, why did we want to remain married? What do we each get out of our being together? Because we both know that true perfection is in fact an impossibility, what could that word possibly mean? And today, I touched on something toward that definition.

Presence is something I have been focused on lately. Presence of being, presence of mind. I know I have spoken of the budding relationship with YoungMan in these terms. When we are together, when we spend time together, there is nothing else in the world except for who we are at that moment, in that space. All else in the universe falls to the side and we are pure beings together. My FunBuddy and I have a similar relationship together. We move in and out of each other's lives, and when we're out, it's okay. Everything's alright because when we're in, we're in so fully and completely, and that is all that is needed. And my H... well, we are so Present in each other's lives, in every moment that exists... that it is truly perfection on earth. I realized during our talk with the therapist that the immensity of that Beauty is overwhelming to me. We both cherish it so much, and want to preserve that state to such an extent that I am troubled by it. It is a pressure that I fear will consume me. It is the very source of my discomfort. Much like a rose dipped in wax, it is for admiring from afar, but it is trapped in time, merely a sliver of its true path in life. What is alive is meant to experience a host of emotions and states of existence. What is alive is meant to feel the entire range of Feeling, from the depths of gutteral despair to the intensity of joyous expression. The committment to a shared life together is something that requires the ability to move out of various states and through to the next ones together, the agreement to take ecstasy and grief together and move forward through time, actively engaging in everything that life has to offer.

The conflict that arises is about sharing time. It's all well and good to be present and in the moment with those you're sharing time with. But how does one regulate those moments? In the life of marriage and monogamy, there are assumptions that keep the finite details simple. Time is shared with friends and family. That is all. Intimate, loving feelings that allow for friendship, fraternity and sex are reserved for Spouse. That is all. Simple. So you know how to regulate time. You know how to say, "Hunny, I'm going to spend Saturday with my sister. I'll see you when I get home. I may be late getting home, so don't wait up!" But there is no room to replace 'sister' with 'lover'. There is no room to say "I enjoy feeling a special, shared connection within an erotic affair with others." It creates feelings of insecurity and it melts the glue of assumptions that holds so many fragile pieces together. Is it so bad to let that glue remain?

We are asking ourselves these very questions, but the fact is, things have already changed. The veil of assumptions has already been peeked under, and what darkness that lies beneath it has already crept under our shared skin. There is so much more to say. So much more to analyze. Tomorrow is a new day. And with each new day, the pain does lessen, slowly.

that curve ball thing...

What has happened to my home? I've been creating this life, this fairy-tale marriage with my husband, filled to the brim with beauty, joy, and sheer delight. I've taken my fill of profound love, and still I desired *more*. I carved out a space on the side for fun and sexual experimentation, took that to its limits, and still I desired *more*. I dabble in infatuation and emotional connections, and still I desired *more*. It's then I find the golden egg, in an intimate, caring, expressive, erotic love affair. And it's like a hurricane that tears apart that happy home, leaving you exposed to all the elements. Leaving you raw. Torn to shreds. And there is despair staring at you right in the face. Depths of darkness you never knew existed, let alone experienced. And all the while, as the winds burn your skin straight off the flesh, and the cold of harsh wet rain shooting pellets against that exposed tissue, and the trees so large, so tall, so strong and rooted begin to fly as an albatross across the skies, all the while, you're wishing to just die from the pain. At least be knocked unconscious because living through this suffering just can not be called living one bit. And you scramble to find warmth, so you press your body against the next person despite your wounds, and despite his open sores, and the warmth of life soothes all the hurt and all the ache for just a second. The warmth gives you reason to push on through and maybe you don't want to die afterall. But then there's a numbness that settles into your bones that makes you wonder if perhaps this is it. This must be the bottom of hell. Hell is not a place of fire and burning. It is ache. It is suffering at such a depth that you lose all reason to live.

It is here in this space of hell, that my husband and I have visited, and are currently occupying.

But how can I illustrate the moments of clarity that have arisen from the cruel reality of our shared pain? The honesty that was revealed about my desires, my search for fulfilling what was lacking. I never wanted to admit there was a lacking, but in the talking, the truth came out. The need for freedom. Mental, sexual, emotional freedom. And all that entails. Details -- he wanted details of how, what, where, when, how often -- how do we do it? How do we move forth in this lifestyle that has fuzzy borders? How can we define even a pathway in something that is mutable and the possibility for abandonment lies almost like a certainty for any future together?

And yet words like freedom and desire flowed effortlessly throughout our conversations. It feels like we're moving from a place where we were simply surviving to a place where the opportunity for growth exists. Our bodies are still recoiling from hours and hours of sustained pain and grief. Our minds are still reeling from abstract notions that are meaningless without the human dose of real, irrational, raw emotion.

I thought on a number of occasions that I was going to lose my H forever. That he was going to slip away into a void of emptiness. The howling began in the back of my mind and I thought he was declaring us Over. I was prepared to get fixed. I was prepared to do everything I needed to find a solution. I was prepared to fall on my knees and let someone tell me that I'm fucked up and these are the ways to embrace the righteous life. And then the Two Voices of true, rational and generous love both told me today to believe in myself, and be true to who I am. Because without that, life for me will have no meaning. And that is as good as dead.

So this is my life, today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. The talking is... painful, difficult, honest, real. I don't think we've talked like this in years. It's been a series of contractual exchanges, small talk, bantering, bickering and moody fighting. This is something else entirely. This is a renewal of committment. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

things are changing

Yesterday was filled with suffering for both my husband and myself. I'm not prepared to get into the details of it all quite yet, but I'll say that everything is tossed in the air. We both cried all night long. He has removed his wedding ring. He has told me to do the same. I can't bear to. I told him that I want an open marriage; what that means, I have no fucking clue. I told him briefly about YoungMan. He's hurting, scared, not angry. He tells me he could never be angry because of course he understands. But his hurt is my hurt. He said to me "you're free." Never did I think those words could mean so much and hurt so much at the same time. He wants to understand what arrangements we'd have. I tell him I don't know. Arrangements. Where do we go from here? I don't know.

For now, here is an article by a woman whom, if I didn't know any better, was actually me telling the tale of my fantasy marriage:Portrait of an Open Marriage.

Major Developments

So much has happened, over the course of three weeks. A few of my readers have asked how I get the time to spend away from my husband for all of these activities. The answer is, my H is out of the country. I've known about this trip for some time now, and I suppose a small part of me rationally thought out this affair with YoungMan. At least, I know that I planned ONE evening of drinks -- our first. I knew that I would have a newfound freedom when my H was gone, and I clearly took advantage of it. Everything else that has followed our first evening together has been a complete surprise for me, all very rash, very spontaneous, breathtakingly so.

Three weeks. Three weeks of seeing only YoungMan almost every other day. I've tried to stay away from him, but I just can't. The longest we've lasted apart from each other was three days and that scares me to high hell. I'm so afraid of what might happen after my husband returns. I'm afraid of making stupid decisions. I'm afraid of falling for this man I barely know. We've only just met, and I know that real feelings are developing between us. I know that in the past I've had a tendency to fall hard and fast for the men in my life; when you're single and dating, that's generally okay. It leads to something. But here, in my situation, where can it possibly lead us?

When my husband and I first began our relationship and he realized that I was dating many men at the time, he told me straight up that he can't handle that type of situation emotionally. Later, he teased me for attempting to build up a man-harem. Perhaps it's true. I was unapologetic about it. But I did stop, for him. I ended all those relationships, in a snap. And I became monogamous. Just like that. I thought that my respect for H and our budding relationship was enough to combat the strength of my promiscuity, but I see now that it isn't anymore.

I've spoken with YoungMan on a few occasions about what lies in our future together. Those times have always been difficult, inarticulate, and tremendously heavy. When we don't think or talk about that subject, our time together is amazing. We are incredibly comfortable together, we have lots of fun, and the sex is still mind-blowing. Earth-shattering. Our reactions to the world, and our uncanny coincidences continue to astound us. We may not share similar histories, but it seems our presence of mind is in complete harmony with one another. Which makes it all that much more difficult. The only direction our interactions can take is toward even more intimacy. Those ~other~ times I've cheated with other men have been nothing but recreational sex. YoungMan and I seem to be sharing something so much more... a serious love affair. I keep telling myself it's just lust, it's just really good sex. But it's getting harder to deny the other things that are flourishing between us.

Today, I gave YoungMan the key to all of my locked secrets. I gave him the link to this blog. That's a huge step for me, and I offered it to him as a gift of intimacy. I have no clue what he will do with it, but as all good gifts are given, it holds no expectation of return. Knowing that he may be reading this just might change things. I don't know. I'm going to try to not let it affect my writing, my reflections, but I just don't know. All I know is that I want him to know me -- All of Me, and make an educated choice about what to do with us. Maybe this is my way of pushing him away, or maybe I'm just tired of living behind a sheer curtain with the people I care about.

I just don't know.

now I can remember his face...

After my first hookup with YoungMan last weekend (a drunken start to that evening of 7-hour marathon sex), I was surprised and quite bothered that I couldn't recall an image of his face. Of course I would be able to recognize him, and of course I knew general attributes, but there were no specific frames of reference that I could muster up from the memory banks. It continued to bother me for a few days because I didn't want to feel as though he was just another screw -- a blank face on a body that I used for sexual gratification. Our second time together was yet another marathon sex session. Incredibly insane, in the middle of the week, we met and ended up somehow at a Holiday Inn. Even more furious sexing. Still, we were in the dark throughout that night, and so I was unable to study his face. I realize now that I tend to do this with my lovers. I'm not sure if most people do or not, but I find myself attempting to learn the topography of the face, memorizing each delicate feature and how it comes together as a whole, beautiful image. I soak it in for as long as I can, and I watch and observe the physical movements, the quirks, the tiny motions of the body, in everyday (non-sexual) action. What makes this person exist in physical form? How does he move through the air, interact with and express to the external world all that he is?

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to do exactly that with YoungMan. In a tidal crash of impatience and utter impulse, we rashly decided to take a road trip together to go to the beach for a weekend away. So that's what we did. And what turned out was an amazingly intense 3 days of lots and lots of sex. Incredibly, we did find time to do "regular people" activities on Saturday, and honestly the only reason for that was because of how sore we both had become from that morning's activities (and from the evening before). I learned a lot about YoungMan this weekend, including the topography of his very handsome face. Not only did I learn about him, but I learned a lot about myself, my desires, and some of the things I have sacrificed for my H.

My husband has never asked me to sacrifice any of these things, but over the course of the years, I think most loving couples do allow certain aspects of the life they knew before the coupling to slip by the wayside, and they do it voluntarily. I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all, and in fact when it comes from a generous and giving space from one to another, I think it goes toward building a strong and healthy relationship.

The time I spent with YoungMan this weekend (while not having sex like crazy) gave me the chance to experience something I haven't felt in a very long time. My husband and I initially became attracted to one another not over common interests and activities, but over a more abstract sharing of intellect, passion, and analytic prowess. Our conversations and discussions spurred agreements and disagreements alike, but they also revealed a brightly lit path of all-around compatibility that eventually led to a definitive future together. The interests and activities that we do presently share together have arisen outside of the framework of our initial attractions. However, there are parts of me that have been neglected over the years since H and I have been together, and the rediscovery of these simple activities has me somewhat misty-eyed and feeling a bit nostalgic. This whole cycle recurrs occasionally and I wear the saddness as a chunky, woolly sweater that H is always observant of. These are the moments he breathes questions in his sleep like, "what is it that gets you so sad sometimes?". I could never tangibly account for these episodes, so there would be no further discussion on the subject. But perhaps now I have a better clue.

Just last week, I was thinking about something that occasionally happened in my youth upon meeting someone new. After the strangeness of introductory interactions dissipates, with certain individuals, a period of uncanny coincidences would occur. Thoughts would flow like a secret language between us, where even if spoken every 5 words, we'd still know the entire sentence. As though two minds were merging, we'd see the same things, hear the same things, say the same things. Inside jokes would happen frequently, and life was always grand when this friend was around. It would be as though the universe was throwing signs everywhere that whatever is unfolding is a good path to take. In my naive mind, the thought would strike me that perhaps... could this person be a "soul mate"? I've since shaken off the urge to believe in such things as "soul mates", as I've heartily embraced the idea that no two people could possibly be perfect for one another, and if they start as such, it is impossible to sustain, given the real and continuously changing life they must share. However, I do believe that uncanny coincidences can reveal an intimate connection between individuals.

When I discovered that YoungMan and I enjoyed many of the same activities, and found simple pleasures in common, I felt that neglected part inside me open up, flowering forth and seeing the light once more. Here is a person who fulfills something that my husband can not. In fact, it is most likely impossible for H to fill these gaps because they are not something he can even control or modify. This fact about my new connection with YoungMan takes nothing away from the life I have with H. Despite these discoveries about compatibility with YoungMan, my compatibility with H is untouched. My relationship with my husband remains the same. It has been proven to me once again, that what I have with H stands alone.

A new issue that could be arising is similar to what I assume happened with BeautyEyes. YoungMan and I are cruising along the path toward some sort of real Relationship. If I wasn't married, he would become my boyfriend, easily. But I am, and so the breaks are on, even before it starts. (So it seems.) Where others have protected their hearts and submitted to being just a fling, or an occasional affair partner, YoungMan seems to be putting his emotions forward. Where BeautyEyes drew his line and made his disappearance, I have the feeling that YoungMan will keep pushing forth. This situation does give me a sense of guilt/responsibility because my limits are imposed on YoungMan and he has to deal with them. However, he's an adult, he's making the decision to get involved with me, and what emotional repercussions may arise are his to own. Though I know this, I can not help but feel bad whenever the thought occurs to me that I'm keeping him from a full-on "real" relationship [with me]. He wants to spend more time with me, as in not always having sex together. Twice now he's mentioned the idea that all we do is have sex together. I think our situation will begin to bother him sooner than I expect. For all I know, it may begin to bother me rather quickly. I fear getting to know him better, on a level other than sexual. I don't want to complicate things, and yet I also know that the extremely intense connection we have is only going to get stronger as time goes on.

As for me, I feel myself fantasizing about that poly lifestyle all over again. I keep imagining a life where it's acceptable to have more than one lover. And that's including Lover, with a capital L, meaning it could possibly be okay to fall in love all over again with other people. But until I bring this up with my husband, I know it can never come to fruition. How can I possibly do that to him? I know he doesn't want that life. I know he's not at all turned on by the prospect of having a "hotwife". And so it goes, on and on. Where are my actions going to lead me? I have absolutely no clue.

analyzing, questions, memories, today

When I was in college, I had no health insurance, so my only option for birth control (in the pill format) was to go through Planned Parenthood. My first exam was given by a very very kind woman doctor who, while going over my medical history with me commented on my answer for the "number of sexual partners in the last three months" question. During that time period, I was "between boyfriends", and had slept with 4 different men. My doctor's comment was "Oh, so you're shopping around?" I was totally embarrassed by that, which she could see, and immediately followed up with "really, it's okay. It's normal to go through a few partners in beween relationships, until you find someone you like." And then she smiled. I was somewhat comforted by her gesture, but in retrospect, I realize that my initial embarrassment speaks volumes as to the foundation that was laid for the rest of my ongoing sex life.

Yes, I am still embarrassed for being promiscuous. Everyday I'm made to feel in the "real world" that sexual and relationship promiscuity is either morally corrupt, emotionally dangerous, disrespectful, disempowering or a whole host of derrogatory descriptors. And yet, I'm consumed by this will to defy that massive force of negativity. My only regret is that I am unable to share this rebellion against the world with my husband. It's like having a toy that can't be played with together because for some illogical reason it will come alive and bite him and hurt him badly if he goes near it. The question becomes "Is it fair then to continue playing with this toy, if he can't partake in the fun?" The kindest option I can think of is to follow the simple guidelines of if you have to play, then "don't flaunt it", "do it on your own time", and "don't let it affect him negatively", all the while knowing: should it ever arise, I must suffer the consequences with humility and compassion.

As for that doctor's comment, I was reminded of it today because I'm still trying to figure out what it is that I'm doing with these lifestyle choices I'm making. It seems that so many of my decisions are based purely on lust, instinct and presence-of-mind-desire. And yet I can't help but wonder if there is some other, deeper, psychological motivation behind all of this. One of my girlfriends has expressed to me on two occasions now that she and my other close girlfriend had previously discussed and were "worried" about me during my Happily Single [and Extremely Promiscuous] Days. As if there might be a deeper issue at hand that would explain why I was having so much sex with such little committment. They pondered, "is she just having fun or could it be that her self-esteem and self-worth is dependant upon the attentions of these men?" Of course, I've questioned this very thought myself, and I keep coming up with the answer that something is inherently wrong with the whole line of questioning.

Has this growing list of men been a futile attempt at gaining self-worth? (Futile because apparently it doesn't work, since I have to keep going, with more and more men.) Am I simply reacting on a base level of human sexual desire, working from a no-holds-barred attitude? (ie. just having some fun) OR. The newest option: am I in the midst of shopping around? I feel quite deeply, from a realm of my heart that exists beyond time, space and rational thinking, that my husband is indeed the only man who is as compatible, as fitting, as complementary with me as is possible in this life. Our union holds something that I feel is truly remarkable, and I have utmost faith that our love will withstand whatever life throws at us. So I can't possibly be shopping around for another H. If it is the case that I am looking for something ~else~, then what could that be?

All of the men with whom I've had Adulterous Affairs were chosen with certain criteria in mind. Aside from sexual attraction (a given), they had to be on some level, "unattainable". Somehow, it had to be impractical to be with the person. This was in fact a deliberate act, in part to protect my marriage, and in part to give me an easy out. There could be no way that I would develop an emotional bond with an individual if the friendship had nothing but obstacles in the way. To an extent, I avoid developing emotional bonds with most of the men in my life, even if they are close friends with both H and myself. Perhaps it is for fear that something might occur within that emotional connection that could possibly threaten the strength of my bond with H. So I don't test it.

But sex... is a totally different story. Sex -- I can break down into attributes, personality, technique, skill, and generosity. I can mechanize it and tear it apart. I can easily admit that various aspects of each of the men I've been with get stacked up against my husband, and everytime my husband wins out, when you take the whole package to scale. Perhaps it is that bond that I cherish so much that keeps the magic between us, and remains untouched by even the most gifted of the lot. The men I've been with have been seasoned lovers, both physically and emotionally. They all have given me the distance I need, and the respect they feel I deserve. Each one of them has had realistic expectations about my marriage, and has never come close to overstepping that boundary. In a way, they've been perfect. So it seems to me that if it was a role-filler I was searching for, (in the role of long-term sideline-lover) then I've easily found a few. Yet I keep looking. So it must not be that.

Which brings me to my latest situation. What's flourishing with YoungMan is something totally different than all the others. What makes it different, I'm not quite sure of yet. But there's a twinge of immediacy that sets a different tone here. He has no wife, no kids. He goes out drinking when he wants, with whom he wants. He has total freedom over his life. He lives at home with his parents. He has no fear, and nothing to lose. He really is Youth-Incarnate, in so many ways. YoungMan lives within a half-hour of our home. We work together, so I see him everyday. The ease is astounding. When we have sex, it's joyous, acrobatic, intimate, passionately devouring, compelling, impulsive, lovely, and physically exhausting. When he looks at me, I feel something stirring inside that is frank, clear and bright. It's not just the "newness" of touch from a person other than the familiar. I don't know what it is, but I am enamoured.

Adultery for me...

is like having a drink, taking some drugs or engaging in a risky adrenaline-pumping sport. It's recreational. It's fun. The flirting is fun. The newness of it all is exhilarating. The sexual attraction is a great reminder that the girl I used to be is still the same as the woman I am now. Like most exciting recreational activities, there's an immediate *boost* that uplifts your spirits and just makes you feel good. Yes, that may very well be the adrenaline talking, but it exists in sports, in exercise, in anything that deals with the physical form. And, as with any of the aforementioned activities, extra-marital sex can toe the line of obsession and addiction. If pushed to the limit, all of that boosted energy can become a whirlwind of chaos, sap your spirit of any reserves you might have had and toss you into a pit of exhaustion. Widely known as The Crash, (aka the hangover) so too does adultery have its minor (and major) pitfalls.

The most dangerous pitfall of all is the emotional bond. In a comment on my previous post, Thomas Paine mentioned the danger of getting caught. I mulled on this for a while, and have decided that getting caught by my husband is not the immediate danger where I find my thrill. Simply because I seriously don't want or need him to ever find out, and I don't really think he wants to know either. I know that he has his suspicions, and it comes out in his speech. At the same time, we've talked about our limits briefly, and I know that he simply doesn't want to know. I think so long as my behavior changes only on normal, regular terms, that is -- our daily relationship maintains its stability -- and our emotional state of affairs is in good standing, he really has no need to question my commitment to our marriage. I also feel the same way, which is why the danger that provokes a prolonged adrenaline rush is that which comes with the possibility of falling in love with someone other than my H.

Which brings me to BeautyEyes. He has been the only man I have ever come close to having these sorts of feelings for. I think because of our history together, there was an immediate bond aside from the sexual attraction. That intimacy that we experienced exists in a realm of its own -- the friendship intimacy that's laced with sexual attraction that seems to cross lines, however arbitrary they may be, and in doing so creates this fuzzy space that's amorphic, mutable and at times, downright scary.

After having processed this odd connection I have with BeautyEyes, and having slept with another co-worker, I couldn't help but feel somewhat... dirty. And it's not a dirty feeling like "oh my, I've slept with too many men, so I'm a slut" kind of dirty, but it's more of a muddled feeling as though I didn't know who I was anymore. The kind of dirty that sticks to your skin and doesn't wash off in the shower. That feeling when you first wake up with morning stickiness clinging in the air, oppressive humidity that consumes all the space, pushing out any room for circulation of a fresh breath. That kind of dirty.

So my solution lately has been to avoid the situation entirely. That means avoiding all people aside from my H. It's been working temporarily, but I know that it's not a permanent solution. I'm just not callous enough to fuck and run. I know I have to talk to the last guy I slept with and process what happened between us. Why did I say it would surely happen again? Why didn't I just leave? This man, my friend, an ex-coworker, was a person I spent a lot of time with. We were close. We had a real relationship at work. That night that we hung out, I said to him in jest "it's not like I'm going to sleep with you or anything" (perhaps my fatal mistake). And after we had sex later on that evening, he opened up to me even more than before. That scared me. He reminded me of me. I didn't want him to get too close. Now I realize he was my rebound from BeautyEyes. I just wanted to fuck. I wanted to be reassured that I could participate in this recreational activity, and just have fun, with seriously NSA (no strings attached). And when he hit me with that whammy of emotion, caused in the wake of really great sex with someone you've known and been in close proximity for almost a year who you've barely even touched -- well, it was too much for me. And so my Anonyma self crawled back into her hole in order that my everyday person could scrub down her dirty little emotional welfare to at least a resuscitated state.

And here is where I am today. Freshly showered. I have a few new perspectives, and maybe they'll sneak out here soon enough. All in all, I feel good.

Food for thought: when you have a sex dream with someone totally unexpected, it often has nothing to do with sexual attraction, though sometimes it might. Usually however, it reveals a newly formed intimacy with that particular person. Twice now I've had this sort of sex dream with my immediate supervisor (two different men). In both instances I knew exactly what my subconscious was getting at. The first time, my dream was relatively innocent. We only kissed, but there was an energy there that struck me enough to remember it during my waking hours. And sure enough, my boss and I had developed a friendly rapport just about the same time. This time, today I had a dream about my new boss -- The Brit. The problem is, I do find him rather sexy, and I was attracted to him from day one. Now I have a sex dream about him and it's clear that we're getting closer at work. To boot, it was a damned good sex dream where he basically forced his face onto the crotch of my jeans, surprising me with the most incredible through-the-pants face fuck I've ever experienced in a dream. The thing that's quite okay with this unrequited sexual attraction is that I know for a fact that he's nowhere near dangerous for me. He's devoted to his wife and kids, lives out of state and has zero opportunity to get me into any kinds of trouble. Plus, I respect him, on multiple fronts which means I would never endanger that situation for him. I think I've got a check on this one.

disappointment

yesterday I was distant from my husband. he's been home for only a week after having been gone for two months, and I become emotionally distant. what is up with that? he treats me like a queen, and I go and have fling after fling, cocky and arrogant, pursuing my fleeting desires, unapologetic and unremorseful. how is it that I can go on committing these indiscretions that most people consider to be heinous acts of vile treacherous behavior? even now, as I feel somewhat sad about my emotional distancing, I know that if given the opportunity, I would probably fuck around again. I really hate that I'm doing it behind his back, and I SOO wish that he could give me this one thing that I can not possibly ever ask of him.

I know it is mistaken for one spouse to expect his/her partner to change fundamental personality traits; it might even be wrong to hope that such things could change. but tell me, is it wrong to hope that you could change fundamental parts of who you are, in order to fit inside a successful marriage? is it even possible? because as I'm looking at who I am in this partnership, and where I'm standing, the only thing I see is a person who wants to be someone she is not, in order to maintain a steady marriage. I want to be self-sacrificing, but in reality I'm a selfish liar. I want to be solitarily devoted to only one man, but instead, my attractions and my interests are dividing steadily. I want to maintain a stable and comfortable relationship, but my actions are divisively acting against that.

is it just that I am so insecure in my core personality that I feed off of the shallow and brief attention that comes with sexual attraction? am I hooked? is this an illness? is this my obsession? or am I really just being true to myself, true to my desiring self, and therefore genuine in these deeds?

I am not regretful of any physical act or emotional connection that has been made. however, after all this time, I don't like the deception. I don't like hiding entire chunks of myself from him. I don't like being someone else inside my head, while being the me that he loves and adores outwardly. I feel fractured, and it's becoming more difficult to string the pieces together. my options from here are lacking in desirability. 1) I go back to being "faithful", and stop everything else cold-turkey. That means I break all connections that have been made with previous lovers and live in a conventionally-styled marriage that I secretly wish to dismantle philosophically and politically. 2) I continue on this adulterous path and keep living a double life, filled with passionate adventure and dark, cold loneliness. I continue to allow my husband sense that something is wrong, but pacify him with words. I keep letting him love only the shell of me. 3) I try to bring these issues to the open, knowing that change can break us. Knowing that I risk everything we've built for the mere possibility of getting what I truly want, an open marriage.

I don't have the strength to change us. I don't have the strength to stop. I am paralyzed by fear. I know why I am emotionally distant, and he is struggling to understand it, to understand me. Today I disappointed a friend, by falling through on plans that were made. Because of that, I realized something: I became disappointed in myself because I took to heart how that friend felt, and I judged myself harshly because of it. That's how I knew how important that friend was in my life. The thing about my husband is of all the people in my life, I don't want to disappoint him the most, ever -- that is why I take every single criticism to heart, and that is why I take every critical word as a slight against my person. I judge myself through what I deem are his eyes, without being aware of it, and despite his actual perceptions. In this desperate and fantastic pursuit for ultimate perfection, I have built castles around my weaknesses, around my every pit and pockmark to create a person who might deserve a bit of his undying and unconditional love. But the gaps are growing wider, and the holes are getting deeper. My imperfection is seeping through the cracks in the mortar and my "real", possibly - probably - unlovable self will eventually wear through.

where am I supposed to go from here?

another letter I will never send

BeautyEyes,

What would I say to you if I could speak freely, without worry, without fear? I would tell you that the past three weeks have been rather difficult for me. I would say that not hearing from you has brought up so many insecurities. That I've been cushioning myself for the hardest fall and the hardest rejection I've ever experienced. I've been trying to callous myself from the hurt and the ache of how your absence affects me. I would tell you that with you, I feel like I am falling in love all over again. I would say that it is a confusing and difficult thing for me because of all my other flings, I've never had to worry about these sorts of things.

And I would tell you that I've had other affairs. You would never ask me, I know. Because you don't want to ruin a lofty image of me and of what we have shared. But without worry or fear, I would want you to know everything about me. I want you to know about polyamory, and about my other secrets. About how my ring finger is longer than my index, and I'm not surprised. About my love of people and individuals, and the creative nature of relationships. I would love to tell you about my husband, and I wish I could share these things without the fear that you would become closed off because of vulnerability and insecurity. The truth is, we are all insecure in some form or fashion, and that fragility grows thick with every passing unanswered question. The questions that eat away at the core of our humanity-strength.

I wish that I could relate to people without feeling sexual attraction, sometimes. I wish that I could be that smart girl who is engaging in every way but sexually. I could be social. But instead, I am this person who feeds off of intimacy that is necessarily laced with sexual innuendo. I wish I could Feel freely without the anxiety that tags along about guilt. So apparently, yes, I do feel guilt. And I hate that I feel guilt. This one aspect of who I am is so liberating, and yet, so enslaving.

I love my husband, and I would never volunteer to abandon what we have together. Perhaps the argument could be made that in my actions with you, I have already abandoned something between he and myself. But that something... to me, is only a platonic form, an ideal that could never be actualized. In his heart, he holds me up as something of a giant, and in his reality-speaking eyes, he knows that I am not that giant. And yet his large and open space allows him to still supply this action. It is this action that makes us who we are, that gives meaning to our love, and that I treasure entirely.

And still, I would reinforce to you that I believe it's wholly possible to be deeply entrenched in and maintain indefinitely an intimate encounter, all the while engaging in the same forces with another.

I don't think falling in love is a selfish act. I don't think monogamy is a farce. I believe in the power and strength that comes from it, and I am devoted to my intertwined existence with my husband. The beauty that arises from this situation is tremendous. Can you accept that? Can you trust me in that? Can you trust yourself to jump, not knowing what the next step may bring? Can you seek beauty and love in every person you encounter, despite the fear and insecurities?

You meditate. That introspection... something connects that is grounded, earthen, woody. Our very bodies speak that same language. That is why we fit in each others' arms so well, so completely, so thoroughly. As though the pathway that connects the both of us to that earthly energy made a complete circuit, traveling through each one of us and returning to the source, the fit, the coupling, the embrace allowed the pathway to flow. Not everyone can feel that. You should celebrate that and revisit this moment when insecurities grow strong. These are real battles that are ever important in our daily lives.

The distance that I felt, while comforting my heart, became one of these battles for me. I let my fear take hold. My fear of what you think of me. My fear of never seeing you or hearing from you ever again. My fear of losing you forever. And yet I know I could never lose you because you have become a part of who I am. Your touch, your vision, your movement through life has influenced me ever since the day we reconnected. So even if you did decide to never speak to me, I will always have the parts of you that you did freely give, once upon a time, and they have become me.

Imagine in another universe somewhere, sexual intimacy between people is a method of life exchanges. The very act, instead of creating a child, results in an embodied exchange of memory. So that once we have been inside one another, we then share the same memories. Our DNA adjusts and we quite literally and physically become a part of the others' flesh. This universe that I speak of is the one that exists in my spirit, in this daily life on earth. I think all intimacy is much expressed in this fashion. Life-histories bleed together, and the person I am today, the person I will be tomorrow is entirely affected by the various individuals I brush up against. I breathe the same air, and share the same breath. Another man's intake is the same as my out-take. My inhalation has been inside another, and so on. Love, hate, anger, frustration -- they are all communicable. And so are walls. The walls I've constructed get passed on to others. and the ones brought down by others I too see crumbling around me.

BeautyEyes, these are only some of the things I would share with you if I could speak freely. If I could give freely, without fear, without worry, without self-doubt. But this doubt is in fact human. And these secrets will die with me. Perhaps when my mind should go frail, these memories will shift and recreate themselves in another form. More likely, I will edit all of this along the way. Whatever the case, I am delighted to know that you do still think of me. And that is something that I just may feel free to tell you.

tears have fallen, and then wiped clean

No matter how much I try to put BeautyEyes out of my mind, I can't stop thinking about him. I'm torn because I would so like to enjoy just savoring his existence, but I also know that there are unbearable limits to what has flowered between us. Limits that my lofty fantasizing has finally hit and now I feel a burning, choking oppression somewhere between my chest and my throat. It is simply, pain. There is a pain of not-knowing. There is a pain of disconnect. There is a pain of loneliness.

Where I work, the people around me are mostly conservative, homophobic, xenophobic, reborn religious zealots who openly judge others in rhetorical, demeaning ways. I continually listen to their crap and am silenced because of my own hesitations to speak out. My coworker today took note that I am too "middle-of-the-fence". Yes, with strangers this is true. It takes a long time for someone to gain my trust, so I don't offer personal opinions readily. Which is what makes it that much harder to stumble upon such an intimate connection, only to have it slip away for the given set of circumstances.

H has mentioned in the past that he really feels it would be ridiculous to expect that he and I have a connection that is unsurpassable -- that: it would be unrealistic to hold on to the notion that I can only have that type of intimacy with him, and no other; and it would be mistaken to believe he could be angry with me for establishing other meaningful connections outside of our coupledom. I know that he understands this concept on an analytical and philosophical level, but at the same time I don't feel it gives me carte blanche to be free and seek out those intimacies with other people. And that is because I do know how very very painful that situation can be. I know that you can not think yourself out of a raw, emotionally torn position. I know that once wounds have been created, they never fully heal and you're then involved in a life-long commitment to tending them. Perhaps that's what marriage is truly about... a lifelong commitment with someone other who is as fully involved with the wounds -- wounds that are no longer your own, but rather something amorphous that is shared and becomes a child, reared by both parents.

So, by not allowing these wounds to even occur, does that mean I am patronizingly protecting us? Am I doing it for the child's own good -- for the good of our stability? Is this a moral place to be?

I hear the same blanket ads coming from these conservative, xenophobic, reborn religious zealots: "A strong family unit is what's best for society. The problem with society these days is the breakdown of the family." What the fuck is that? Of course the assumption is that "family" = husband, wife, children. But within these roles, I feel like I'm lying, and thus my spirit is dying. Within that framework, I feel caged and as though my genuine, vibrant smile is a big fat plastic fake. Yet with H, all of that melts away and we just exist -- we just have a place in the world where things do make sense, and sometimes we move in and out of various roles, but they don't have to stick, unless we want them to. That is precisely why I feel so disconnected right now. By not giving in and opening all this up, I feel like I am pressing down such a fleshy part of who I am, and thus am excising parts of me from the unit that is us. That is the most painful of all. It's not the not-knowing where BeautyEyes is on the issue of what we've done. It's not the distance between our two big cities. It's not the loneliness of being away from him. It's the peeling myself from the mass that was me and H. It's the distance that I've put between us. It's the carving of my own space that is pulling me apart at the same time. Like the siamese twin who dies after surgery, despite owning her own set of healthy organs and limbs, there is a shared spirit that once severed hurts so bad it can not exist alone.

I hate this feeling of wanting to "come out". Sometimes I feel like I would very much like to attend a queer support group. Though I'm comfortable with my sexuality and orientation, I actually am in a particularly marginalized social structure within the grand scheme of things. I just don't know how comfortable I'd be in attending a group meeting...

my staccatoed journey with polyamory

Today, I thought about a man who lived an alternate life with me in some other existent universe. He was and remains very special to me because of his role in my nascent (and currently abandoned) life-philosophies of polyamory. I remembered his confusion when I told him I was leaving the country with another man. I remembered that he spoke with my ex about my departure in terms of his broken heart and having fallen for me completely. I remembered him saying that he just didn't understand because we were so good together; he gave me all the space that I asked for, he gave me all the freedom I wanted, so why in the world was I leaving him? It's true. We were amazing together, and he let me live my life and my loves the way I knew how. We had everything going for us, and yet I left him -- for a man who requested that I be monogamous; for a man who wanted to be the only man in my life; for the man I eventually married.

For a brief moment, I had one foot on that alternate path. He was a musician -- lived his life to the beat and rhythms all around. I was a poet, mired in the intangible sounds of worded beauty. Together, we created summertime thunderstorms of two lives that collapsed and expanded along with the cycles of day and night. We were emotionally open to one another, warm and receptive. He, accepting of all I had to offer, was also accepting of my boundless pursuits with other men. He told me he loved me. Every moment we shared together was authentic, genuine. So much so, that as my relationship with H developed, I was asked by H to keep my distance from Mr. Musician. There. It was then that the request made itself loud and clear. H wanted me to himself.

What I didn't understand at the time, that I now realize in small, painful bursts is the poly concept of New Relationship Energy (NRE). I had it all around me during that brief period of time. And as energies go, they interact with other energies, combating, canceling and overriding one another. The thing I think most people take for granted is that the polyamorous life is not one of a non-commital state. In fact, it demands a hyper-vigilence in commitment because the pull of NRE is that which is so incredibly strong, all but the deeply rooted seedlings will be torn apart by its passions. And that is exactly what happened with Mr. Musician and H. I was not committed to any one person, and so the strongest NRE won out. I gave in to emotional sentiment, and didn't quite have a fully developed sense of what kind of life I wanted to lead, with my H, or with anyone else. And so, I fell back to what I knew -- a whirlwind fairy tale of romantic love that had a very clear path as to which direction it was headed. It was simple. It was clean.

Years later, after the dust has settled (somewhat), I am coming to understand more and more that my yearning for diverse sources of intimacy plays a large role in who I am, and in the person I would like to become. Where I am right now makes sense to me, with respect to my desires and my happiness. The affairs that I have committed fall right in place, when I look at my relationship history as a whole. I am extremely enchanted by that New Relationship Energy, and so much reflection happens as a result of that. When I lay back in the still, calm comfort of our healthy relationship, sometimes I feel a bit dead. And that's not to say that our relationship is dead, but more specifically -- that my individual blossoming is halted on some levels. It would really pain my H to hear me say that, so I don't tell him in such explicit language; instead, I act in ways to stimulate myself and create the space I need to keep going. I also realize that my relationship with H is central to this flowering. Our connection is like a bastion that keeps me centered, keeps me anchored. I could not follow my fiery spirit without what H and I share. I'm not sure that he understands that, and without informing him of all this, I'm not sure that I could clarify that for him. I can only hope that some primal part of him can sense it and realize it without the necessity of articulating the matter.

Epiphany

Wow, I just watched this video from YouTube and I had an incredible realization.



What was so different with BeautyEyes? Why that sense of comfort? Why that feeling of familiarity? At the time, I couldn't put my finger on it, but now I understand. Touching him and being with him felt like being with another woman. Our kisses, our touches, everything about us had the quality of sapphic desire. Normally, I abhor the categorizations of male/female, masculine/feminine, etc. The dichotomization of gender seems quite limiting and pushes up walls and boundaries where they shouldn't exist. And yet still, there is something inside me that finds real comfort in making this distinction: lesbian sex is different from straight sex. Aside from the obvious technical differences, there is something else about lez-love that seems to cast a certain hue on the act that is generally rare in man/woman sex.

I've had sex with a lot of men. I've kissed plenty more. In almost every instance, the underlying quality of it all has a sense of probing. And it's not just the physical quality of a penis probing the vagina either -- it's the feeling of the other as something foreign that begs understanding. It's the searching for common ground, and through that search it's discovering uncharted territories that bring excitement and heart-pounding breath. I've had sensuous sex, acrobatic sex, emotional sex, spiritual sex, communion-type sex, fun sex, rote sex, drunken sex, rolling sex, beginner's sex, artful sex. It's run the gamut as to the varying character of sex I've had, and still that probing is there. As though, even when I lay naked, I am still clothed. As though layers still exist, in want of shedding.

Perhaps it has nothing to do with gender or lesbian sex, categorically. Maybe it is simply a matter of translucency and comfort, and where I find that quality happens amidst women, and occasionally that special man, or two. (As it seems, I married one.) I suppose the affairs I've had with these other "manly men" has indeed filled a niche left somewhat vacant by monogamous sex with the man I intend to spend the rest of my life with. I hate to think of marriage as an act of emasculation, but on some levels, that's exactly what happens, to the both of us. Becoming partners naturally kicks away power-play, as that is required emotionally to get along day to day. "Straight (hetero) sex" allows me to succumb under someone else's thumb, and fulfill a somewhat subservient role that I do miss from time to time with my H.

So the question remains, why did my experience with BeautyEyes not fall into the "straight (hetero) sex" category? Could it be our shared history -- a built-in precursor to an emotional connection? Could it be that I am allowing another person aside from my H into a place strictly reserved for a true loving relationship for the first time? Whatever the case, it's different, it's terrifying, and it's sure to bring change into my life. At the very least, it's brought up strong sentiments about living poly again that I've long buried and want to keep submerged. I want it to remain hidden from sight and I don't want to deal with the consequences. I don't want to share this with my husband because I don't want our relationship to change. I don't want to make him unhappy, and I don't want us to be quarrelsome. In some ways, you could say I don't want us to grow. There's far too much youthful spirit in our relationship right now to ruin with an accelerated growth spurt. My discomfort in hiding these truths is more than tolerable, in comparison to what might arise if we change things now. Maybe some day I'll get too antsy to keep holding it in, or maybe he'll sense that I'm just too "off", or perhaps even he'll change of his own accord and develop the desires to stray as I currently do. Who knows, though the latter is rather doubtful. Until then, I'm not going to sacrifice our current state of affairs for a brief sanctuary in loose-lipped honesty. No good could come of that. Besides, I have this here -- my group of anonymous friends -- should I find the need for full disclosure. And thank the heavens for that. Without this community, I might have done something really stupid already.

---the sex---

Each morning that I awoke next to this man in his bed, I immediately felt flushed with desire. The cool morning breeze against the thin cotton sheets would gently caress me into full wakedness, and I could feel a tingling sensation throughout my body. What's incredible to me is that the type of desire was pure pleasure. I did not aspire to reach orgasm, ever. I merely wanted touch. The repeated rise and fall of sensory experience was what I yearned for; just the pleasure of his skin against mine, his lips anywhere on me, and even the simple pleasure of looking into his eyes as we shared space silently. Without getting too carried away, but in the spirit of honest expression, I want to say that during these intense moments of intimacy, I felt a love between us that came into a fullness unable to be articulated.

Two evenings, back to back, of sucking on lips and necks and chests and fingertips, interspersed with feeding and drinking and walking and holding hands and hugging. Oh, but the kissing and licking and touching -- his touch was marvelous! his hands alone brought me so much pleasure, the type of pleasure that stays with you, that I find impossible really. rocking my body against the grasp of his palm, scratching away at my insides, driving me, moving me, making me feel like I could seriously cum at any moment, whenever he wanted, again and again. I want to see him again, if only to feel him. he romanced me across multiple planes, and damn the sensuality of it all was overwhelming. his eyes. his beautiful eyes would watch me. he would give me pleasure, I would be floating somewhere outside of my consciousness and with the twitch of an eyelid, I could see he was watching me take that pleasure he was giving. his fingers were inside me and without blinking, his eyes set on my face, watching me in ecstasy.

on our sides, facing one another, his fingers driving me to a frenzy, for hours we were slow, kissing, licking at an unbearably light pace, the torture was delicious. he eased into me, gentle and kind. for hours we lay there, taking turns pleasing one another, tapping into a magnificent geyser of eroticism and passion. how long I could gaze into his eyes... we would go hungry. hunger for sensory excitement, hunger for touch, hunger for the soft padding of each other's lips, hunger for drink, hunger for food, desire in such a raw form as hunger.

BeautyEyes. we unraveled one another, and I don't really want to be put back together any time soon. this is indulgence, and relishing every moment after. he emailed me too -- exactly the bit of response I needed to know that everything is great between us.

Aftermath

First I'd like to thank all the new visitors to this blog -- I'm pleasantly surprised and graciously welcoming of your reflections, your readership, your thoughts, your input. This place has been a refuge for me, somewhere I go when I need clarity, or a simple outlet for my harried emotions. I don't profess to be capable of giving advice or teaching in any way, but my writings do tend to be rather meaningful for me, and when these thoughts can touch someone else in a similar fashion, then I'm grateful for that momentary shared experience.

Yesterday was quite difficult for me because I woke up to an empty home, my head, body and spirit filled with a chaotic mix of feelings that ranged from exhaustion to delight. I craved a single, quiet response from BeautyEyes that never actually appeared. I wanted to know that he was okay with everything, or at least that he was going through something, anything, and that I in fact wasn't alone in my state of absolute confusion. The absence of recognition was painful, but eventually I did manage to get through the entire day.

And like clockwork, my H, in his hypersensitive extrasensory perception, tells me a story. It is about a colleague, who is currently suffering in his marriage because of how affairs have insinuated themselves between the two, and about the repurcussions of it all. The magnitude of those consequences is astounding, really. The couple has been living with this heavy issue for over ten years, with little to no resolution. And my H, in the telling of his tale, is so calm and understanding. He explains everything with a pragmatism that I feel is meant to give comfort to me. The thought crossed my mind once more that perhaps he does know about this website, and perhaps he has known all along. This thought does not give me the creeps anymore; in fact, if it is the case, what can I do about it? I did not broadcast it, I have tried the best I can to keep this part of me to myself, and so if he has stumbled upon it, and still is able to be the man I know him to be, then what is there to do?

In our phone conversation last night, he reminded me of the "pact" that we made -- that if I were to have a simple sexual encounter, to not mention it to him. There would be no need of it, for all it would bring to our lives would be misery, jealousy and unnecessary pain. However, if I found myself falling in love with another person, (which often happens in extramarital affairs) then that is an issue that needs a dialogue.

How could it be?? The timing for this kind of conversation is on the mark, in so many ways. Here I am feeling as though I have crossed a line with BeautyEyes because our interactions were so fully incorporated -- he is a good person and on a friendship level, he is someone that I trust and admire; on an intimate friend level, he is someone I feel connected with on so very many planes; on a sexual level, I feel as though our compatibility is tremendous. And so I am shaken; perhaps I should not have pursued this line through the thicket, for now I am caught by own flesh. And just as I am working through these feelings, here comes my H, bringing up these very issues from his perspective.

As painful as it was to have that kind of conversation over the phone, knowing what I know, it brought me such comfort and trust in my love for my H. He knows who I am, and he knows my passion. He may or may not know the details of what pursuits I've had, but whatever the case, he is an incredibly compassionate man whose love I cherish fully and eternally. Our conversation helped ground me and remind me of the strength I have in my core. I am entirely thankful for that, and today is a new day. I still have the desire to hear from BeautyEyes -- just a signal that things are okay between us. I still also plan on sending him the letter I'm currently writing and the package I'm compiling for his home and work space. So in a way, I'm still traveling this path, but I'm rooted again in what I know to be a good place for me. And that is truly a miracle.