All the feelings

I’m deep in processing things that have happened over the last week. I should be working on some prep work for my full-time job, or perhaps some extracurricular work for my casual job, but I’m finding myself highly unmotivated on the work front.  I’ve worked a lot more days in my second job than I have in a long time in this last week. Four day shifts, that are 12.5 hours each.  Of course, instead of adulting and going home and sleeping in between, I did something every night.  Day one I spent the night at L’s, Day 2 I went for drinks with coworkers who also found themselves single this summer, and day 3 I went out with my new metamour, L’s other partner and we ended up at an event for our local poly group.  I got about four hours of sleep a night and although yesterday was Saturday, I crashed at 7:30 and got out of bed at 9 a.m. I feel like a new person today.

This week was full of feelings on my part.  Not bad ones, not good ones, but just feelings that I don’t really like to deal with.  The twisty bits are often indicative of a problem inside me.  Not a problem caused by others, but one that deals with me not processing something properly or being too reactive about something. It means I’ve had to turn inward a bit lately and think about what my feelings mean, what I really want, and where I want to go.  

The first was the twisty bits with A.  I had thought it was me feeling a little unimportant and unvalued because of some jokes he was making about our relationship and what it means to him.  When I spoke to him about it, he assured me he was committed to me and explained again that for him it was less about the words and more about the actions, again.  I say again, because we’ve had this talk, and when I think it through, every time, I’m reminded that, yes, he does make me a priority in his busy life.  We have our weekly dates and steal away for drinks or lunch when we can.  It’s pretty great.  So, I was thinking I’d got over the hurdle, when I was in the shower one day and realized that while I was not entirely unjustified in the feelings of being devalued, there was a pattern with me.  That is that every time we fall our of our usual routine, or see each other less or there is a period of time coming up where we will be apart for a long time, I have an attack of feelings.  

Having thought about this a little more, it actually makes a lot of sense.  If he’s showing me that he values me through his actions, through making me a priority and spending time with me, then when he isn’t there, my subconscious reaction is to feel less valued. Of course, understanding this is good, but it’s not enough to just understand it.  He’s shown me over and over and over that I’m important to him, and there’s really nothing healthy that can come out of my doubts.  

So what do we do?  

Fuck if I know!  But I think that in the periods of absence, I need just a little more of the things that aren’t being in the same room where we can touch each other.  Checking in and chatting, good mornings and good nights, those things.  Part of it is that where we used to chat all day long, now it’s a quip here and there and the only real substance comes when we are together in person.  Add to that the fact that his wife is a little sensitive to him texting with me when he’s with her, where she didn’t before, and the next thing I know, we’re hardly in contact. What this means is a bit of anxiety about him going away for a few weeks and not being able to talk to him.  I think I just need to deal with it, with the hope that since we can’t fill up on time together before he goes, we can fill up again when he returns.

The other feelings had to do with L.  He was home but didn’t answer the door when I was stopping by at his house to pick up a few things I left there on Thursday night.  He knew when I was coming, and didn’t pay attention to the time because he was hanging out with his other partner.  I felt pretty damn unimportant. After waiting 20 minutes, I headed home to my parents to sleep. I was quite pissed about travelling about an hour out of my way to not actually get the stuff I needed, which included my nipple ring that had fallen out and I was worried about how quickly it would grow in.  In the end, I just made it clear that I was unimpressed and that it was bad form on his part.  I explained myself, he apologized, and everything is OK.  But what I realized in all of that is that I like him a bit more than I thought.  I was trying to control things and like every other time I do that, my heart has other ideas.  I’m not in love with him, but I care deeply about him, so when he didn’t answer the door, I was more hurt than I normally would be, had it been a friend or acquaintance.  There’s not much to do with this information other than acknowledge that it exists, but sometimes that’s the best way to process and understand all the feelings.  

I’m going to miss A terribly when we are apart for three weeks.  I’m going to spend some of that time with L.  But I’m looking forward to September, a regular schedule, and some normal again.  With my men a part of all of it.  

Disappearing stress

I was reminded today, by A, that I haven’t published anything in awhile.  It made me laugh, because yesterday I dumped some twisty bits on him and I’m pretty sure he came here hoping he would get more insight before he responded.  We laughed and joked and he tried to change the conversation, but in the end, we got through the twisty bits quite uneventfully, and ended up talking about all the other things.  

The last 3 days have been kind of amazing on so many different levels.   I truly don’t know where to start.  So I’ll start with A.  We had a great date on Friday.  Friday seems to have become *our* day, and I pretty much always reserve it for him.  I’m post-surgery recovering and can’t have sex, so we spent a much longer than normal time on the couch chatting, and I was several beers in before he arrived, so I was in a mood for fun.  For the first time ever, I jokingly tied him up and went to work having said fun. I figured that someone should have an orgasm in my house, since it’s been way too tame here lately.  Alas, I played way too much, but given the length of that blow job, I’d say he at least had fun.  Tying him up was totally not my thing though.  I like the responses when he grabs my head or moderates my speed or any touch, and taking away his hands just made it less connected. Fortunately, he just untied one arm and fixed that in short order and the night was saved.  Add to that the fact that I got a lot of other attention and I’d say it was a fantastic and much-needed night.  Twisty bits aside, I needed the connection, and I suspect he did too.

Saturday, I met the other girl L is dating, and we totally hit it off.  I’m eight years older than L, and she is six years younger.  We’ve been chatting pretty much continuously, and she is very much a 26 year old version of me.  He clearly has a type.  It’s funny.  Of course, L’s mind is blown that we both get along so well, but he takes it in stride.  After that, I went to roller derby again.  One of my very good friend’s husband wanted to talk about polyamory and emotions and how to deal with everything, and so I invited him along.  It was wicked awesome.  We had such a fantastic conversation, really enjoyed the match, and everything about it was great.  

Last week, I was chatting with D’s wife about her tubal ligation and asking about recovery time and limitations (mostly in sex, because, let’s be reasonable, I’m kind of needy when it comes to this – so says A, anyway), and I gave her a heads up that I’d be at derby because the time before was so awkward (in a hilarious way though).  When I had surgery, she wished me luck and I sent her a picture of my feet in these super fun hospital styrofoam slippers:

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She joked that she didn’t get anything like that for her surgery and I joked that I’d steal some for her, and asked her her foot size.  So, while I was waiting to go into surgery, I stole a pair, shoved it in my purse, and brought it to derby.  When she arrived, she spotted me, as far away as possible from where they sit, and texted to say she saw me.  I said I had something for her and to come see me when she could.  There was more joking and awesomeness back and forth that made me giggle.  She came across at half-time, and as my friend’s husband went out for a smoke, I see D walk by and he gives me a wave and smile and I smile back, and she says “Oh, D doesn’t want to interrupt your date.”, and I laughed and explained that it wasn’t a date and referred them to a group we are all part of to catch up on who he was and then chatted.  When D came back, he came over, said he didn’t want to interrupt my date, and I stood up and gave him a hug and explained that it wasn’t a date.  He bought me a beer and the three of us chatted, mostly about how my divorce is going and my new tattoo, but it was good.  It was so normal.  So at the end of half-time, they left to go back to their seats, and I said “Enjoy your long walk, I intentionally picked seats as far away as possible to mitigate the awkward”.  D’s response:  “Next time come sit with us”.  So I laugh and say “Does this mean the awkward is over?” and he says “Yes”, and his wife laughs and says “You two are so fucking weird!” and that’s how it ended.  I sent him a text to say I was glad the awkward was over and apologized for my anger and hurt and the passive aggressive way I dealt with my heartbreak, but didn’t get a response, but for me, it was the ultimate closure.  I just feel so damn good about it.

Oh, and her slippers fit:

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That night, I went to my good friends’ house.  They moved less than a block away, and they are derby refs, so we continued the night there. There’s not much to say other than it was a lot of fun. I was in prime drunken form and probably embarrassed myself, but it was great.  As seems to be the theme with them, there was some cuddling and love and tons of joking and laughter. It was amazing.  Honestly, Saturday was probably the most perfect day I’ve had in a long time.  A left so early in the morning after we fell asleep cuddling, I met L’s other lady, I had a great chat with my friend’s husband, I chatted and hugged and shed the awkward with D, and had a great, super fun non-adulting night with friends who accept me for exactly who I am.

Sunday, I had a Lego date with my 3-year-old, my eldest two came back from my parents’ and we had a cuddling movie night.  Then L came over, we chatted, and cuddled, and started a movie, and he decided to go home because he was tired, and the goodnight kiss ended up in more work on my blow job skills.  😉  (My main joke right now is that since I can’t have sex, I’m going to work on perfecting my blowjob skills and successfully deep throating.) It was just full of connection and awesome.  I like what I have with L.  He’s so sweet.  I describe him as the “cute new guy” to everyone.  He’s just lovely.  Kind, and funny, and strong, and accepting, and enthusiastic.  He’s a good match for me and my relationship with him is a good complement to my relationship with A.  A, I refer to as “sexy grandpa”, because that is exactly what he is.    

I’m back on OKC, on Friday, I eliminated the other 2 guys I was dating from contention for legitimate but rather boring reasons. They are both nice guys.  I’d have a great time with both of them.  But neither can give me what I need, so I needed to walk away.  Of course, this means that I’m talking to more men than I can keep track of, but it’s pretty great.  I have a date on Wednesday, and should have one or more others coming up.  A is going out of town next weekend, so I’m going out with L’s other girl on Friday, which should be fun.  

The biggest and most amazing thing is that F and I are in a good place again.  We had a great meeting with our lawyers today, and we are at the point of drafting a separation agreement.  I got basically everything I wanted and I think he’s happy too.  So much stress just disappeared from my life.

Now, if only I could have sex.  Because damn, 6 weeks is a long time.

 

Six long weeks

Smack dab in the feelings. That’s where I landed tonight.

A friend invited me to her birthday party in the first week of August today.  She specifically invited A with me, which is kind of awesome.  I invited him along.  Sure enough, he’s gone that weekend. Then he’s away for 2 weeks starting the weekend after.  And I’m gone the weekend he gets back.  So we just lost every weekend in August. Every. Single. Weekend.  I’m having surgery on Wednesday. I’m getting a tubal ligation and uterine ablation. As a now “single” woman, I need to be in control of my fertility, and this is the best way. Of course I’m safe about my sex.  Condoms are an investment I make in bulk. Sexual health is important to me.  But most definitely, my uterus is closed for inhabitation, and I won’t be leaving control of such a situation up to the men I’m having sex with or a piece of latex.

But the thing is, I’m going to lose a couple weeks of recovery time to this procedure, possibly more. The recovery time can be anywhere from one to six weeks.  So, we’ve also lost the last couple of weeks in July.  It may be as distant as September the next time we can have sex.  This makes me sad. I guess it will depend on my pain and how well I heal, and the ridiculous schedule the men in my life have.  I had absolutely incredible sex with L on Friday afternoon and what was going to be mind-blowing sex with A that was interrupted with real life on Friday evening, and then he spent the night for the first time in our entire relationship and it was amazing and I wish I could have enjoyed it properly, but he had to leave early in the morning, and biology decided to fuck with me and be a giant pain in the ass this morning, and my period arrived three days early, when I was really hoping to use those three days to bank all the sex I could before I had surgery.  So, now sex is off the table for the foreseeable future, A and I probably won’t be able to have sex for two to six weeks or so, and L and I won’t have sex for at least two to 4 weeks.  Maybe one of the other three men I’m dating/interested in may move in there, but the reality is that this girl who needs a little more attention won’t get the sexual attention she needs.  Chances are, regardless of need for sexual attention, the men in my life won’t be available.


I wrote this several days ago.  Yesterday, I had my tubal ligation and endometrial ablation.  I had a bit of hope when the nurse told me it would be only a couple of weeks until I could have sex, but the obstetrician burst that bubble just before I went into surgery and told me it would be 4-6 weeks.  The endometrial ablation basically destroys all the cells in the lining of my uterus, and so no penetration with anything is allowed for 4-6 weeks due to the risk of infection.  So, it’s going to be the end of August before I get to have sex.  I know what it’s like to need IV antibiotics because of a major infection, that’s not something I want to repeat, so I shouldn’t complain. It’s totally worth it.  But damn if it isn’t going to be hard. I should have had this procedure when I was still married to F and didn’t care if I had sex for months at a time.  Well, I’m sure I’ll live through it, and it’s not like I have to be a nun during that time.  I’ll find ways to enjoy myself and the men in my life.

Among the funnier things yesterday was my mom coming to pick me up from the hospital and asking me how I was feeling and me answering “I’m stoned”, and us both laughing about the fact that we never expected me to supply that answer voluntarily when she was picking me up.  The anesthesiologist I had was the same woman who gave me my epidural with baby #3.  Somehow, we ended up having a conversation about misogyny in academia and in her chosen profession, congratulations about separations, and everything in between.  In general, the whole thing was fun and interesting and relatively painless, thanks to some Tylenol 3’s and my parents who spoiled me rotten, and exceptionally good medical staff.  

Today, I’m feeling a little bit tender and swollen. I stole away for a lunch with A, which was, by far, the highlight of my day.  The man gives the best hugs and the after lunch hug has sustained me for the rest of the day.

I’m back with my munchkins now, having convinced F that he should put them to sleep to give me a little extra time to recover, since I’m not supposed to lift anything and I have a toddler who loves to be carried everywhere.  I got a lovely welcome from #2 and tomorrow will be full of cuddles and relaxation, while my new nanny gets acquainted with the kids.  It should be good.

The one

Now that summer is here and school is over, life is calm and easy and fun and fulfilling, which means I have packed my days full of socializing with friends, dating the wonderful men in my life, hanging out with my crazy army of monkeys, and working my second job.  Add to this getting used to the new parenting agreement and working towards establishing my independence, and you have a recipe for great change, worthwhile challenges, and some (very manageable) stress.

I’m fortunate enough to work somewhere with supportive people. After my “breakdown” a month ago, I actively decided to take it a little easier. Give myself time to process and heal and make myself a priority.  I told one of my supervisors this last week, and she just said she was glad I am taking care of myself and not to stress about anything.  Having a job I love extends past what I do to having amazing, supportive, and caring coworkers.

A few days ago, I had a flood of social gatherings during the day.  I had back-to-back-to-back-to-back dates, although only one was with a man I am dating.  First I met a friend from when I lived abroad, and had a lovely coffee date with her.  We caught up and giggled and reconnected.  Then I headed off to L’s house for what was supposed to be a very quick visit that ended up being closer to 2 hours and involved my clothes not staying on.  The last couple weeks, I’ve been actively limiting my time with L, because he’s not attached to anyone else, and I’ve been playing it safe to prevent us from moving too fast, because it’s pretty damn easy to fall into relationship escalation when there aren’t other people to prioritize in the form of other relationships and children.  So, I’m working on establishing a norm that works for us.  Then, of course, I had a bad day at my second job and ended up spontaneously asking if he wanted to go out for dinner the next day and had another date the next day.  Maybe I’m fooling myself?  But I digress.

The third date, which corresponded with dinner time, was with a girl who was my best friend in grade 10.  That’s right, I’m still friends with someone I’ve known for 25 years.  What’s unique about this friendship is that still, years later, even when we don’t see each other for a couple years, we just pick up where we left off.  I last saw her 2 years ago.  My youngest was still in his larval stages and we met for lunch and chatted for a couple hours. It was when I was adjusting to my PPD meds and I wasn’t at my best.  So, a few things have changed.  I filled her in on the happenings with F and then decided to go all out and tell her about polyamory. Of course, a friend of 25 years who has known me so long, doesn’t judge. She just accepts, asks tons of questions, and asks if she can email me with more questions in a couple weeks.  We laughed and reconnected and the whole meal was full of acceptance and love.  I got an email from her yesterday saying that she wanted to reiterate that she loves me no matter what.  She’s good people.

My final coffee was with a friend I went to grad school with and we had our normal in depth, intellectual, theoretical, and kind of ridiculous conversation.  It was also awesome.  I haven’t seen him for a couple years, so it was pretty great to catch up.  Then in the end, I headed to my parents’ house, where I have been sleeping when F is parenting, and chatted with my mom and my aunt and headed to bed.  It was great.  A day full of love and connection.

One of the things that keeps coming up, even in the people who know I’m poly, is the statement: “One day you’ll find *the one*.”  This gives me pause, because there is no “one” for me.  But many “ones”.  It feels odd to me to  be unapologetically positive about a tubal ligation next week, but it’s such an element of choosing to live my life on my own terms and do what makes me happy.  I love my kids, but I sure know I don’t want any more of them.  The “one” and the “no more kids” decision fit into the same general decision of making my life the life I want to live, choosing actively what is best for me, for my kids, and for the people I love, including the men in my life.  I guess I just have to explain to every monogamous person I know that “the one” doesn’t exist for me, and that truth is wrapped up, intricately, in my happiness.

 

Whole

I crossed the couch and unintentionally started a relationship with A just over 6 months ago.  Back then, if someone had said I would be separated, D and I wouldn’t be together anymore, and I’d be in love with A and dating actively, I would have told them they were smoking some awesome drugs.  But that is my reality.  Six months, A and I have been together.  He’s never said he loves me, although I think he likes me and the time we have together a bit more than a little.  Do I care that he knows I love him, and he’s never said it?  Not even a little.  I’m happy with what we have, including him and his reluctance to talk about feelings.

I saw my person for the first time in a couple weeks.  I updated her on the goings on in my life and it took 45 minutes to just give the brief explanation because my life is weird, and awesome, and so very fucking full. I realized again, just how much support I have in my life.  I’m so lucky.

Among the things that happened this week is that I found my first cheating asshole!  I’m very clear with every man that messages me on OKC that I am polyamorous, I’m not interested in casual sex, I’m not anyone’s unicorn, and if there is a wife or significant other in the picture, that person needs to be 100% in the know before I even consider dating someone.  Well, I went out with a guy.  Had an amazing kiss in my parking lot (did I mention that I had 3 first kisses in that parking lot in the last week?  Well, I did)  The next day, I got a text from his wife telling me that he was breaking all their rules and that he was lying to me and to her. So. Not. Cool. So, I obviously walked the fuck away from that without looking back.

I’ve been staying at my parents when F is parenting in our house and this week I had a great talk with my step-dad. This guy is the most amazing father figure. He’s been there for me, for my sister, and for my kids more than any other male figure has been.  He told me he was proud of me. That he was happy that I finally realized what was going on between F and I and that I stepped away from the dysfunction.  He was supportive and awesome and loving and amazing and totally dad-like.  It was so refreshing.  It was one of those dad conversations that won’t happen again for years, but I feel better, and anchored, because of it.

I got the second part of my tattoo done.  It didn’t escape me that the flower bud that represents my second  miscarriage was what was the most painful!  But damn is it amazing!!!  I’m so happy with it.

The other day, F and I had our second collaborative meeting with our lawyers.  It went so well that we actually got up and hugged each other part of the way through.  It was incredible actually, to be laughing and joking and having fun while discussing divorce proceedings.  Things seem to be working out as far as that goes.  We’re actually getting along reasonably well and the kids are doing well too.  We told them that we are separated last week, and they reacted as well as can be expected.  They actually seem to be doing quite well with it all and only time will tell how quickly they adjust.

So much is going so well for me right now.  I realized that I’m actually truly, unequivocally happy.  Content in my life, my strength, my independence.  Loving my kids and my jobs and my boyfriend and dating new and interesting people.  For the first time in a year, I don’t feel stressed or sad or angry.  I just am.  I’m in control of as much of my life as I can be, have accepted the parts of life I cannot change, and am moving forward with intention, joy, love, and independence.  I am whole again.

Protection

This last week has been pretty great.  I’ve had a few pretty excellent first dates and a fantastic late date with L.  A and I have spent more time together than we have in months as his wife is out of town so he was a little more available than he has been.  It’s nice to see him recharged.  He’s been burning the candle at both ends for months and the last few days he’s been more relaxed than I’ve seen him since February.  It’s pretty great to see.

I’m going to forego talking about the three great first dates (that all ended with a first kiss in the same parking lot, which cracks me up) and the one really not great one I had last week and talk about a realization I made yesterday while having dinner with A.  Somehow the topic of X came up, probably because I’ve been chatting with him quite a bit recently.  I talked about how I still have a thing for him, but we’re skirting around the issue of our intense magnetic attraction.  As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that skirting around the issue is intentional on my part. That by keeping him at arm’s length, I’m protecting myself.  Protecting my heart.  

This got me to thinking about the new men I’m dating.  How I feel about them.  I remember the all-encompassing feeling of New Relationship Energy (NRE) that I felt when I was dating X and when I started dating D. I remember the excitement when I got a text and the anticipation of the next date and the overwhelming pleasure of each touch, be it holding hands or kissing or more.  I remember how I couldn’t get them out of my mind and I loved every bit of that sensation.  I realized that I don’t have this intense, overwhelming NRE with the new guys.  It’s not like I can turn it on or off, but I think that part of the reason I am not overwhelmed by NRE is just protection.  I’m protecting myself, my heart, from taking the risk inherent in dating someone new.  

I’m not sure how I feel about this.  With X, it’s an active choice.  I can’t take the risk of dating him and falling so madly in love with him again.  The wound caused by our romantic relationship ending is so recently healed and that memory is enough for me to to not want to relive it, but keep him at a distance where I can be in control of my emotions and protect my heart.  With the other men though, it’s probably more of an unconscious choice.  I think that I am naturally protective of my heart just now because of the fresh scar that D left on my heart (the one that is superficially healed but requires some time to heal beneath the surface and still has some lingering pain associated with it) and that’s translating into a lack of NRE.  Don’t get me wrong, I like these men, I want to spend time with them, they are all pretty incredible and I’m very attracted to them, but I’m not all consumed by NRE for any of them.  

This realization takes me on two different emotional paths.  The first is happiness that I can protect my heart and still embrace new relationships.  That I’m a bit more in control than I was last fall when I fell so completely in love first with X, then with D. The second is a bit of sadness in knowing that I’m not putting myself all in, wondering if it’s because the part of me that feels that intense emotion broke along with my heart or if it’s just because I haven’t met the right person.   Along with this is the mourning of the loss of that wonderful emotion and wondering if I’ll ever have that intense fun and excitement of falling in love, and being so certain in that love, again.  

I think more than anything, it shocked me that I suddenly, mid-sentence, realized that I was protecting myself. That I’d put up barriers that I was previously unaware I could erect.  That I had donned an armour built on heartbreak and hurt and disappointment.  That somewhere, in all that has happened, I shed a little bit of my optimism and positivity and freedom for a little bit of safety.  The broken heart is like a terrorist preventing me from enjoying everything I should in life due to fear.  The threat of hurt is not paralyzing, but a very real, recently experienced source of fear.  Right now, it’s protective, but I need to be cognizant of when the protection becomes limiting.  

Dirty lounge

I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m confused, and I’m disappointed.

I’ve had an issue with A for weeks (months?).  I’ve talked to him about it.  I’ve been light-hearted and joking.  I’ve been kind about it, but it drives me fucking crazy.  Often, I ask him out or want to make plans, but he just tentatively agrees to something.  We call it the “tentatively maybe”, that’s how often it happens.  I wait around for him to decide, keeping my evening open or a space available for him, and he decides whether or not it’s what he wants to do at the last minute.  Once or twice, I’ve been surprised when he comes out, mostly, I’m resigned to him not coming long before he updates me on his plans.

While it’s been a frustration for a while, it hasn’t really been something that’s worth making an issue out of until a few days ago, when he crossed a line that meant I had to raise the issue, and I’m sad and pissed off and disappointed.  We haven’t seen much of each other in recent weeks.  Our schedules haven’t lined up and he’s needed a break and I’ve had visitors and life has happened.  I’ve felt it quite acutely.  I’m not sure how he’s felt about it.

Basically, what happened was that earlier in the week I was feeling like we hadn’t connected enough recently and offered to cancel a date I had with a new guy to be able to go out with A.  He said it may work and that he had to discuss things with his wife.  When we met the day before for a quick drink, he said he would be talking to her that evening and let me know.  The next morning, I messaged him and asked him what his plans were.  We had other conversations, which he answered quickly, but he avoided answering my questions about the evening.  In the end, I cancelled the babysitter and decided to stay home because there was no point in going out when I don’t actually have plans.  

Around 6:30 p.m., I texted to ask if there was a good reason he hadn’t messaged me.  He immediately apologized. I told him I felt like he didn’t value me or our relationship.  He responded with “I hear you”.  I hope he does. But I’m not sure he gets it, and I’m not sure he’s willing to change his behaviour.  The truth is, I feel like he treats me a bit like a 24 hour drive through.  I’m always open for him to come when he wants.  He leaves plans tentative until the very last minute.  He makes tentative plans with me and then commits to plans with other people, often times just dropping on me that he made the plans with no acknowledgement that we had potential plans.  For a long time, I just accepted that it was stress in his life, the craziness that has been all the stuff he is juggling.  I don’t doubt that is part of it.  Then I realized that he makes plans with everyone but me in advance. He commits to coffee with an old partner, he commits to going out for drinks with his friends, he commits to golf tournaments, charity events, and all kinds of other events. The point is, he can plan far in advance unless the plan is with me.

I’ve been trying to understand why this is. I have my theories, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I’m in love with someone and I’m not sure that he values the relationship with me.  I don’t feel like my time, commitment, or feelings are respected.  I don’t need to be the number one priority in anyone’s life, but it would be nice to be a priority, to feel like he wants to be with me in the same way I want to be with him.

He knew I was dissatisfied with his response to me, because I told him.  His response was “that’s fair”.  Once again, I was so annoyed.  No acknowledgement of my feelings.  No effort to assuage my hurt.  No effort period.  

Then, it got worse.  We had made plans for Saturday afternoon.  So, I asked him if we were on or not and he said he thought our plans were Sunday.  He quickly talked to his wife and I got a text that said Saturday was good but I was so annoyed.  We had discussed that Sunday was also free, but he never gave any indication that he wanted to see me, so I made plans with other people.  Worse, he started joking about things, like the communication breakdown didn’t matter.  In the end I just asked him to stop and the conversation ended.

To me, it feels so simple.  I told him I don’t feel valued.  In response to that, I would expect to get some reassurance that I mean something to him.  That my feelings matter to him.  But what I got were responses that sound good on paper but don’t acknowledge what I’ve communicated and seem to be designed to placate me.  

I don’t know what to do about any of this.  I don’t know if I can do anything about this.  


I wrote what is above a few days ago.  I decided not to post it before I talked to A in person.  I also needed the time to process the feelings I was having.  I’m a pretty good communicator, but in general, I’d rather do anything other than talk about my feelings.  This is especially true with A.  Largely because talking to him about feelings is an exercise in frustration.  In fact, he took great joy in me groaning and saying he was a pain in the ass to talk to.  But we got through it.  He sort of explained a bit about how his conversations about me go with his wife. I was right, I’m a bit more of a loaded topic.  It requires dialogue, not just an update on his plans.  He “explained” that he wouldn’t be with me if I wasn’t a priority. In the end, I think we were both just annoyed with the conversation, him wondering why I was still talking about feelings, me wondering why he just couldn’t get it.  

Truthfully, we spent much of the conversation laughing at each other, interspersed with me calling him names and groaning because he’s so fucking frustrating.  I had shared our text conversation with G, who is my rock on all things dating, earlier in the week, and she just called him a “douche canoe”.  I told A this and he laughed and said “Want to play with my oar?”  And I did. So I did.  It was fucking amazing.


That evening, I went out with G to roller derby. It was my first time at derby, and it was fun.  It was especially fun to get a chance to chat with D’s wife as she and D were there. It was….weird…to see him. To recognize several of his movements and expressions and know that he was uncomfortable seeing me. We didn’t talk, but there was a bit of eye contact and a smile and wave as he passed me on his way out.   It wasn’t as bad as I thought the first time I saw him would be and I have some hope that we will be able to be friends in the future. In fact, that is something I would really like, as he is a really good person, someone who knows himself well, and is patient and kind and understanding and has all the characteristics I would like in a friend, even if he the way he broke up with me was cowardly.

On the way to derby, I was updating G on the conversation I had had with A that day.  We discussed how he isn’t meant to be a “primary” partner to me.  I’ve never really considered him a primary partner, but the gist of it is that he has been my only partner for about six weeks.  When he started out in my life, he was firmly placed in #3 spot. Then he moved to #2 when I separated from F. When D broke up with me, he moved to #1, a place he was never meant to be.  He’s been quite honest about saying that it’s in his best interest for me to date, because he doesn’t have more time to devote to our relationship, and apparently I’m quite “demanding” now that I’m only having sex with one person.  

G always has amazing analogies, and as we laughed about A’s oar comment after I told him she called him a douche canoe, she said this:  “A is like your favourite lounge that you go to on Friday and Saturday nights for a few drinks and relax.  You love it then. It’s a wonderful place to be.  But it’s not the place you go in the daylight on a weekday. Because when you do that, you find that your favourite spot is just a dirty lounge.”  I laughed and called A a dirty lounge, but her analogy notwithstanding, what it really means is that I’ve been expecting/demanding/asking too much of him lately, and forgot to see him for who he is and who I am and how we are together.  While I want to be reminded that he values me and know I’m completely reasonable asking for good communication, I need to be cognizant of managing my expectations too.   As G said, I just need to relegate him back to second fiddle again.  So many analogies.