The Aftermath

It's over. 

3 ½ years after it began. It was my decision based on my (now ex) boyfriend's actions. In a way, he made it easy, in another way, he ripped me to shreds. I loved him. I still love him, and it hurts.

So many feelings... hurt, betrayed, disrespected, and sadness that the events leading to the breakup happened. Put simply, he cheated. I know that some people can't understand how polyamorous people can cheat, so I will explain:

We had an agreement in place. I have my own personal guidelines that Stitch and I put in place when we first started this journey.  Later, when Shilo entered my life, he agreed to the guidelines. When I started dating my boyfriend, he agreed to my personal rules regarding how sexual activity with me is handled as well. Right about 2 years after we started dating, he requested and fulfilled the final requirement for us to engage in intercourse. There had been kissing, touching, and oral sex early in the relationship, but no intercourse.

Anyway, once that final hurdle was passed, I had permission to engage in intercourse with him. How much, how often is mostly irrelevant. What is relevant is that as time passed, I realized that we needed parameters with each other. Negotiations ensued, and our relationship was good. It was healthy. We saw each other frequently and enjoyed each other's company.

In early August, he asked about becoming fluid bonded(ref: https://www.verywell.com/fluid-bonding-3132610)  with me, but he wanted me to have a  full set of STD tests which includedHSV1, HSV2, and HPV. I was fine with that, but imagine my horror when my doctor told me that I would have to see a GYN doctor! Okay, now you're probably wondering what's so horrible about seeing a GYN doctor. I have PTSD, and some of that is related to a rape exam I had when I was raped in July 2004. Just seeing the stirrups causes a panic attack. Waiting 4 weeks for the appointment was hell, and then having to drag Shilo with me so he could help me get through the exam was emotionally exhausting.

Naturally, I tested negative for everything but HSV1 (cold sore virus) and since he has HSV1 as well, it was okay. When he fucked the other woman he started seeing last month, (ref: comments on  https://keepcalmanddowhatmerrytellsyou.blogspot.com/2017/12/processing-12-28-2017.html)  it was without a condom, but then he told me that they would be using a condom with each other after that. I took him at his word. He never mentioned if or when she was tested.

In the meantime, we engaged in unprotected sex early this month. He never mentioned anything about the other girl, so I assumed it was okay, and that they were using condoms.

UNTIL...

Well, until Saturday (1-13) evening. Shilo was going to the hospital for tests, and I wanted to attend a party, and since my boyfriend was attending, he agreed to drive me and have me spend the night. He had mentioned wanting to "talk" so I was kind of prepared for less-than-good news. When I asked him what the news was, I realized that I really wasn't prepared for what I heard.

What I heard was "I don't care about our agreement or the health of Shilo and Stitch, or even you. I've been fucking (girl) without a condom, and I plan to continue." What he said was "I've been having sex with (girl) frequently without a condom."  When I asked why, he said "It just happened."

WHAT THE EVER-LIVING FUCK???!!!

Was my thought, but instead I expressed my anger and disappointment at his irresponsibility and lack of concern for not only my safety but the safety of my Household, and I started sobbing uncontrollably. In the meantime, we had arrived at the venue, and I got myself together the best way I knew how, and said that I wasn't ready to deal with it. When we walked in, I put on my happy brave face, and talked to a few people, avoiding my boyfriend, and  struggling to keep myself together. 

I actually had one scene planned with a young man, and after announcements, I played with him for about thirty minutes. Then I noticed my boyfriend playing with the other girl, and because I couldn't handle it, I walked into the front office and tried to regain my rapidly-disappearing composure. One of the leaders who is a friend asked me if I was okay, and it put me over the edge, and I stared to cry again.

When she heard the story, she said "You aren't going home with him, are you?" I was at a party in the middle of Orange County, and I live in Long Beach. What else was I supposed to do??  There wasn't anyone at the party who lived anywhere near Long Beach, and most of the people were passing acquaintances at best.  One of the other leaders offered to let me stay overnight with him and his wife, and I immediately refused because I didn't know him, and had no clue who his wife was.

Fortunately, my friend vouched for him, and when he offered again, I agreed. I found my boyfriend, asked him to let me get my medication out of the car, and then took all my stuff out. He didn't notice. I spent most of the rest of the evening until the party was over in the office alternating between crying and regaining my composure. Sometime during my more composed times, the wife came in, and it turned out that I did know her. She was happy to have me overnight, so I at least felt comfortable with the idea. 

Just before the party ended, I told my boyfriend that my friend wanted me to stay with her so I could help her with some things in the morning, and when he asked, I told him that I had my stuff. I had sent a text to Child #2 telling him that I was at a party, and I wasn't going home with my boyfriend, so I wanted him to have the address of where I was going to be.

Once I was back at the home of my wonderful host and hostess, and settled, I laid down and cried all night. Sleep eluded me. I was so very sad and miserable, and I knew I had to end it, but taking the advice of my friend, and another friend I had emailed the night before, I decided to wait a few days until my head was clear. I didn't want to react emotionally and lose my composure, and I was really afraid that I'd be unable to do it. 

When they drive me home on Sunday afternoon, I had already notified Stitch by text that I didn't stay overnight with my boyfriend and that I'd explain when I got home. I burst into tears again as I told Stitch and Shilo what happened.  I was fully expecting an  "I told you so" from Shilo, and instead he comforted me and held me, and gently undressed me, set up my CPAP, and tucked me in bed.

I was just so very sad, and I cried whenever I was awake. On Monday evening, my boyfriend sent me an email saying he was ready to talk when I was, and I suggested a text on Tuesday evening. 

When Tuesday came, he wanted to talk on the phone, but I realized that no matter how composed I thought I was, that I'd be unable to talk on the phone without losing it. So I insisted on text. Two hours and fifteen minutes later, it was over.

He never did accept responsibility for his behavior, stating that he did nothing wrong, and insisting that my tears and questions was not only overreacting, but irrational as well! Again I say

WHAT THE EVER-LIVING FUCK???!!!

It's like my eyes were finally opened, and I realized that he was completely oblivious to the pain he caused, and I was being gaslighted besides. That is a painful truth for me. It took him breaking our agreement for me to finally see the ugly painful truth.

What tears me apart most right now is that I  still love him, but I Love myself more, and I have to do what's best for me and my Household.

My only final thought is that even though it's over, we were able to communicate, and other that that one HUGE whatever (I really don't know what to call it) our relationship was strong, and I feel it was a successful polyamory relationship, and I'm not discouraged from trying again, but right now, I just want to focus on enriching existing relationships with friends and acquaintances and not rush into another relationship. That can wait until my heart and emotions are stronger.