My Anger? (1-21-18)

Really???!!! What is this anger you speak of, and why do you think that my anger, if any, is focused on anyone other than myself? I’m a grown-up and I make my own decisions. Sure, I might consult with Shilo or Stitch, and my Mentor when he was alive, but the end decision to do something is my own. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m guilty of poor decisions in the past. I’ll even admit that I’m guilty of poor decisions in the recent past. Sometimes, I’ll even allow my emotions to guide my decisions, and love is a pretty powerful emotion.

No, I don’t feel anger. I do feel pain and disappointment, with both myself and others. How could I have trusted someone with my heart? Why do I love and trust others at all? Even though I could easily say there was deceit, the deceit isn’t solely on the other person, because I deceived myself as well. Probably more than they did. I wanted to believe that the love was reciprocal. Maybe it was. Unfortunately, sometimes, love just isn’t enough.

Polyamory, for me, at least, is less about sex and sexual activity than love. Love is the common denominator. Love is always there. I’m all for others having as much sex as they want (preferably safely) but love comes first for me. If I don’t love you, I won’t engage in sexual intercourse with you. I tell others, and they just don’t get it. They believe it’s about sex for everyone. That’s fine, it’s just not for me.

Those of you reading this might be surprised by what I’m about to write, mostly because I have remained silent, and I didn’t want to cause trouble or further heartache for someone, but in the past week, I have been accused of (in no particular order) overreacting, being irrational, unreasonable, intentionally causing problems, backstabbing, telling lies about someone, being mean, being malicious, not being sex-positive, and dragging someone through the mud, when the truth was (and has always been) that I have always spoken about this person in complimentary ways. Telling others how wonderful, caring, and considerate this person was, and when I was asked about what happened between us, I’ve only said that it was a miscommunication, and that we were unable to reach an agreement.

I understand now that by using those words against me, it was a pathetic attempt to cause me to feel guilt. To that, I say “too late!” I already felt guilty when I realized what a poor decision I made. Maybe if I had received kindness instead, I wouldn’t be where I am now.

Regrets? Here is my answer to that:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwk0Sh3id4w

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.

Sometimes It Stays

Sometimes it ends. Other times, it just slowly fades. Whatever happens, there are feelings involved. Polyamory is funny that way.

This has been on my mind quite a bit recently. I don't adjust to changes very well. It's one of the very first things I tell people when we get involved. I even specify what are important things and what are unimportant things. What I expect/need to know, and what is "noise." Depending on my level of involvement, much of it is noise. I go to great lengths to explain what I will give, and what I expect.

I've been witness to a beginning, what appeared to be a fade, but was an ending, and what I call a "true fade" in the past month. I was even exposed to noise, which is something I hate. It seems that late spring/early summer is a hotbed of activity for many relationships. I blame the heat.

This is mostly about my "true fade." Several years ago, I took a submissive under consideration. It was a failure. The consideration period only lasted two weeks before I told him it wasn't going to work. He was bratty, couldn't (or wouldn't) follow simple instructions, and required more energy than I could muster. Both of us have experienced success with others. It was just a bad fit. We didn't love each other less either. Every year, right about this time of the year he calls me.

"Mistress Merry, do you think you could give me a spanking? A really hard one?" I answer yes and we make fluid plans to see one another, and it never happens. He called last night. I won't be available for him until after the 5th. The end of June until the second week of July is tough on me. If you go far back enough in my Journal, or you know me well, you know why. I'm not going to repeat it here. Princess is my true fade. I know that the day will come when he doesn't call, but I know it's not this year. It's not painful. It doesn't hurt. The one that hurts (there's always at least one) was the one that appeared to be a fade, but then ended abruptly due to circumstances neither of us could control. That one gives me all sorts of mixed feelings. Sadness, anger, and a hurt like being punched in the gut. I mourned it for months, even though I was in a happy thriving relationship that carried me through it. Every time I see his (real) name the pain becomes fresh. I yell and cuss when I see it. I still love him but I know he no longer loves me. It's my cross to bear.

I'm facing a difficult relationship decision right now made even more difficult by something I can't control dealing with Shilo. I'm distracted. I don't know how I will decide, but I know that there's too much noise here.

::Radio Silence::

I just don't have it in me to care. Not sure if I'm pissed, or hurt, or both.

At least I've been tanning Shilo's hide.

EDITED TO ADD:

I'm not fond of histrionics, but it's awfully tempting.
https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/histrionics

Last Straw?

I'm not intentionally airing dirty laundry, which is why most people will remain nameless. 2016 finally did it! Today I received a particularly depressing bit of news and reading it made me feel a combination of sick, depressed, and scared. Honestly, it's not anyone's "fault", although fingers could easily be pointed in every direction.  


The following is a story of good intentions gone bad. In mid-2013, acquaintances (a married couple) of mine had a series of unfortunate events happen to them, and they had to move to a remote location. Unfortunately, they couldn't find a buyer. Right about that time, Shilo and myself were discussing wedding plans, and were looking for a house that would fit Shilo, myself, Stitch, my dog (a lab) and our cats. The house was perfect as far as space was concerned, so I put down a hefty sized (for me) down payment and signed a 3 year lease option, fully expecting that my finances would be perfect and I would be able to make the purchase. I was told to treat the house like it was mine, and I did. I painted, added a security door to the front, and did other things over the first year. I got settled. I was happy. We "inherited" their (the previous owners) two cats. We adopted Donna (our pitbull) from the pound to keep our lab company. Unfortunately, our lab developed a sudden health problem, and had to be euthanized a few months later. Still, things were good.


About the middle of our second year, medical bills began to pile up due to Shilo having digestive issues, and making ends meet became more difficult. He was finally diagnosed with a gluten sensitivity. Shilo's mother died in July 2015, which only added to our stress levels. Last-minute plane tickets to Mississippi cleaned out our savings, and we were living on credit we no longer really had. Jonathan was diagnosed with cancer, I had a mini heart attack, and then Shilo broke his ankle at a dungeon, and all that happened on October 2015! In November, I injured my wrist, but fortunately, it was a sprain. December 2015 consisted of lots of ups and downs emotionally, as I continued to adjust to being the only driver. Jonathan went through several death scares, and I was buckling under the pressure. I'm human, and I realized that I can't do it all. Through all of the insanity, I continued to make sure we paid on the house, because I invested in it.


The endless windstorms in February 2016 caused our picket fence to collapse and it was irreparable. Cleaning up the mess wasn't my idea of fun, but I did it with the assistance of Stitch. In March, Shilo finally got better, and Jonathan got a bone marrow transplant. By late April, Jonathan developed graft vs. host disease and norovirus and I became his primary mode of transportation. Bills continued piling up, and my credit, Stitch's credit, and Shilo's credit was shit. Suffice to say, I could see the future, and it wasn't so bright, and I kept hoping things would improve. Only it got worse.


The end of July, I broke my humerus in two places, and, once again, I was taken by ambulance to the hospital. That injury disabled me. I was (and still am) completely unable to drive, and I required assistance for everything else. A week later, the refrigerator died. We tried to get it fixed, but were told that we should just buy a new one. We decided that renting would be easier. By early September the bone healed, but pain control was difficult, and I was unable to do my PT exercises and couldn't figure out why. 7 weeks later, near the end of October, my Ortho doctor explained that I had a frozen shoulder, which was a complication related to my being diabetic. I was sent to PT three times a week at $60 a visit. Shilo started working OT to pay for it. My prescription (narcotic) medicine for pain wasn't working either, but you all know that story.


In the meantime, at the end of September, we received an email reminding us that our three years were up, and we had to do something about purchasing the house we could no longer buy due to everything. We went through the motions of getting a home loan, and were denied. Lost doesn't begin to describe how we were feeling, and because of my injury and pain not getting better, I left everything up to Shilo.


Normally, leaving things affecting me up to Shilo works well. What I didn't know as that if it affects him as well, he's like a deer in the headlights. Things only got worse. Partly because of that, and also because the washing machine finally died as well. Again, it was suggested by the repair company that we buy a new one. We opted to use the laundromat instead.


We also kept looking for a buyer for the house, which has been a difficult prospect, although there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. Then, two weeks ago, our water heater wasn't working, so we bought a new one, expecting that we would be reimbursed, but it still wasn't working, so the gas company shut off our gas on Christmas eve. It turned out there was a gas leak UNDER the house, so we got that fixed as well, still expecting to be reimbursed. I thought Shilo was keeping everyone informed as it happened, but now it seems that the owners are not only getting a divorce (which makes me sad) but the male of the couple feels that Shilo was slow about informing him on what was going on.


I'm honestly not sure how to feel at this point, other than what I described at the beginning of this. While I understand that that that the male is no doubt going through a difficult time, it feels like he is blaming us for everything that happened, and he expects us to not only pay for the repairs (totaling nearly 2 months rent!) but also our rent. Or, at least that's what I gathered from his last email.


I'm trying not to panic, and there's so much more details I could get into, but all I see is huge brick wall on front of me. I'm hoping things improve.

MY THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:

It never ceases to amaze me how it's possible to Love someone with all your heart, and then have it turn into a point where you detest even seeing their name because they've been dishonest with you over and over again. Still, I will preserve your privacy. You may thank me when you see me. Oh, that's right, you won't!