It was mentioned in comments here and on Kyle’s blog that I’ve been conspicuously absent from my usual online haunts, and it’s true, I have.  I’ve been so overwhelmed with feelings and experiences that I just haven’t had time to sit down and write – in fact, I nearly missed a deadline for an anthology I was hoping to submit for, and, in the end, my submission left a lot to be desired.  In case you were curious, poly is mostly a lot of communication and courage, especially in the beginning when you’re trying to set down a solid foundation, and I’ve been working hard to be sure I’m holding space for everyone, and loving Kyle and Casey and LC as much as I can while we move slowly through this transition.  I’m feeling excited but intimidated because Theo really wants to bottom, and I would love to top them, but their previous experience has been with serious heavy-hitters with TONS of experience and I’m not sure I’m up to the job (although, to be fair, Theo isn’t worried at all.)  Casey and Kyle are working through rough feelings that are completely understandable, and I alternate with wanting to thank them and wishing I could apologize away their fears and sadness.  In addition, Theo is going through a bit of a rough time in their personal life, too, which means my chest is feeling a bit like one of those Hefty bag commercials with the patented force flex technology.  I’m really hoping I’m the Hefty brand, and not the generic, because it would be a big mess if I can’t flex with the force and it all just bursts and spews all over the floor.

Thankfully Casey has been wonderful, as has Theo, and I’m feeling very held and loved (ok, and very guilty about getting so much, but I’m not sure that’s all that avoidable.)  Things are good, but full, so I’m not sure how often I’ll be back here for awhile.  Some pictures from Pride will be up next for sure, and then I’ll wing it from there.

As always, thank you kindly for stopping by to say hi.

I’ve started more posts than I can count trying to work out how to say it, but I’m still floundering.  I’m scared, excited, sad, thrilled, guilty, hopeful and terrified in equal amounts, but the one big emotion I’m feeling overall is very happy.  (I haven’t decided whether I think it’s a blessing or curse that we humans can feel so much all at once, but I’ll let you know if I do.)  I had been feeling quite lonely and a bit despondent, and this person has given me something to hold on to and companionship that’s made me stronger.  They’re quite poly themselves, and come with an org chart that’s still a bit more complicated than I can wrap my head around, but have great respect for what Kyle and I share, along with a desire to hold it precious.  They are beautiful and strong and sweet and remarkably similar to me in so many ways it’s made me look around for hidden cameras or secret notes on the back of their hands.

And I’m a bit nervous about telling y’all, because I’m not sure how you’ll take it.  Things were getting pretty dark for me this Spring, and this person has brought a bit of light back into my life, and I am so grateful that Kyle is as generous and loving as he is.  Friends have been commenting that it’s good to see me smiling again.  Hopefully y’all are feeling equally generous and open.  Kyle and I have had good talks and hard ones and I’m cautiously optimistic, although I kinda feel like a hefty bag in one of those force flex commercials – hopefully I can stretch to fill everything I’m feeling right now and still hold space for both of these remarkable people.

I’ve always believed in a Princess Bride/Ladyhawke romanticized version of love – one that lasts and stands strong against all enemies, but living as a single mom in a long distance relationship with someone whom I can’t touch for months at a time just pulled me a bit too thin.  This new person who appeared out of nowhere offered me friendship and solace in the times between, and I have decided to accept.  I’m feeling pretty fragile about it all, so I’m not sure how often I’ll be posting, especially because posts that are mostly blank to preserve their identity would probably get kinda boring after awhile.  (“Today I xxx with xxx and boy was it xxx!  (Picture redacted.))

I am feeling so much right now – elated and hopeful mostly, but also guilty and sad to have to let go of that idealized image of love.  The truth is that Kyle and I have been involved in a lopsided triangle for a few years – regardless of our feelings, he still goes to bed with someone else all but a few nights a year, and I haven’t been honest with myself about whether that was going to be sustainable for me in the long run.  It’s less a matter of jealousy – I’m pretty much through with the sharp pang of being left out – and more about simply feeling so very alone against the world.  Kyle would do anything if he could, but he’s simply too far away to do more than send love and support through the phone lines.

I have to be honest – it feels good to be touched and loved, even though it’s not Kyle.  It feels good to have a friend by my side when difficult things happen, and arms to hug when I feel lost and scared.  I still love Kyle more than I know how to say, but I’m falling for this new person, too…and it’s wonderful to be loved in return.  The kids love them, too…just like they love Kyle, although we haven’t said anything to them about the true nature of my new “friendship.”

Tonight I’m up with demons, though…concerns about hurting Kyle and wanting too much, self-recriminations for not being true and the pain of worrying I might be just a mono person trying to live a poly life.  So far, the big loser has been sleep as I’ve tried to keep up with all my responsibilities and give space to everyone who deserves it, which certainly doesn’t help curb the monsters that creep out of my head in the darkness.

For now, I’m going to try to love as well as I can, and live in the moment, and stay close to my feelings, so they don’t wander off and get lost.  This new person has so much to teach me about poly and love, and I’m learning as fast as I can, along with lessons in being humbled by Kyle’s amazing affection and generosity.  Despite the difficulties, I really am very lucky, and thankful for having this opportunity.  My basket is full to overflowing with love and support and I’m glowing in the reflected light.

Let’s just hope I don’t trip and drop it now, hmmm?

The musical – still unfinished with only one act (the director is looking for funding to finish it) – was a lot of fun, although the audience was even better.  Before the show had even started, I already had gotten to know the women sitting to the right and left of me, to the extent that the one on my left was planning a tryst of an intimate nature that her friend (sitting to her left) was unaware of.  (She overheard us chatting when she came back to her seat with wine for them both.)  We all chatted in our seats, out of our seats, even in the bathroom line (I got rammed a few times by the woman behind me, who was making a point about being an Aries by placing her hands on her head like horns.)  Everyone there was a lot of fun, and I smiled and joked as if I were actually an outgoing person – that was really amazingly awesome.

The play was a bit rough around the edges, but fun.  My favorite was the song, “A Toy Like That,” which was a take off on “A Boy Like That” and was HILARIOUS.  There was also a good amount of eye candy on stage (see above,) and some kissing, which ultimately made me miss Casey a LOT.

The show was especially poignant because of a poly theme running through – the two houses were split because one woman had tried to open her relationship to others and her girlfriend turned her hurt into anger. Poly is such a devisive topic because people are rarely ambivalent.  On one side, morality and Princess Bride romanticism – living and dying for that one true love, regardless of cost or pain.  On the other, independence and realism – a refusal to buy into heterosexist and paternalistic ideals of female fidelity.  It’s a topic that’s rarely far from my mind, but one that’s been especially resonant of late.  That it was portrayed as the source of all the strife in this retelling was not lost on me.

After the show was over, I headed over to Wicked Grounds to join Arron for a soy milkshake.  The barrista that night was feeling frisky and we had a little fun, sexy banter about dungeons and topping, and then Dylan and I made a beeline for the comfy chair in the front window to sit together and catch up.

(Ok, so, yeah – “catching up” among sex bloggers usually involves sexy pictures.  This one went on our tumblr Gay Like This, too.)

All in all, a most excellent night.

with my legs stretched long, taut and just shaking,

one muddy knee, one airy foot

no home here on Earth, or up in the sky.

.

The honor of the step is the grasp on the map -

the intention and course, the skill of execution.

Knowing write from wrong, and still

choosing to do it.

.

The choice is made three times – mind, heart and hand -

and then echoed against bricks

along every street we glance down

on our way past.

To say that Kyle/Casey and I had a bad day on Thursday…well, it would be a bit of an understatement, like calling Everest a little bump in the road.  My post on loneliness was me trying to blow off steam from a much larger problem, which came to a head Wednesday night, and blew up Thursday morning.

Wednesday night Kyle got to go to a few classes for Porn Week at Evergreen, and he had a great time.  Jiz Lee is one of my favorite people on the planet, and they were leading a class on impact play, and Kyle got to be a demo partner.  He also met Mickey Mod, a crush of his, and then settled in as a demo for a class Sophia St. James was teaching.

I’ve known Sophia for awhile, and I introduced her to Kyle at a play party at Butch Voices in October.  The class Sophia was teaching on Wednesday was on strap-ons and she used Kyle to demonstrate how to fit a harness, and then gave him a blow job.  It’s funny, really, because I was ok with it…until Kyle made an offhand comment that Sophia had bitten his ass and made him growl.

Poly is a strange beast – I’m already second in line, and accepting and embracing the other love in his life is a part of mine.  But there was something about hearing he had offered up that growl – the one that belongs to me – to someone else, and it knocked me sideways.  And when I fell, a whole lotta other stuff came tumbling down.

It’s a daily struggle for me to think about myself – wrapping my world around other people and taking whatever’s left for me just comes so easily it’s second nature.  It’s a massive blindside, and it makes for an ugly cycle of accepting, coping, keeping quiet…and then exploding when I can’t hold it in anymore.  I can see the cycle, but it’s still hard to act, hard to ask.

It’s really hard to find my place as a second without a first.  It’s hard to know what I should ask for, what I should let well enough be, and no one poly relationship is anything like another, so there really aren’t many models to look to.

And I found out the hard way I had been holding too much in.

So it all came tumbling out, in a rush of confusion, and both of us felt like we were caught up in a wave that wouldn’t stop crashing.  Casey held on and we tumbled together.

In the end, it wasn’t about a blow job, or even a growl.  It was about a soccer game, believe it or not.  It was the way her teammates always close ranks on me when I go to watch her play.  It was the way she goes back to her teammates and I’m left to stand off to the side during half time.  It was the way she doesn’t hug me in front of certain people, the way I walk like a ghost in her life.  It was the way that, after 2 years and so much love and commitment, I’m still a dirty secret, even to her family, and the way the people around her look at me out of the sides of their eyes.  They see me as a threat, a danger, and reduce me to a criminal because they just don’t know.

They don’t know how much love and respect I have for her life and her family, how much joy I’ve brought to her and, yes, how loving me has made her a better spouse.   I’ve given so much, meant so much…and yet I’m still a secret.

And when Casey commented on Facebook about going to a porn lecture, but couldn’t mention me…well, that was just match to flame.

As calmly as I could, with my eyes swollen and red, my hands shaking, I asked them for more, for recognition, for a visible place in their life.  It wasn’t an ultimatum, of course, because I know how impossible it would be to leave.  It was a request, a hope, a crazy fantasy on top of a head full of understanding about how hard it would be to give me what I was asking for.

We talked, we cried, we fucking processed the entire universe three times through.  I shook and sobbed and the voices poured in to feast on my bones – selfish, self-centered ingrate, who gives you the right to ask for so much?  who the hell do you think you are? what the fuck are you doing, destroying the best thing you’ve ever had?

It’s a strange thing – in the twisted place where I keep right and wrong, asking for what you need…well, simply needing anything at all is a sign of failure.  We are never more perfect than when we’re easy, right?  It’s a hard fight to reprogram a brain, you can’t trust what you feel or what you know, but Casey was right there with love to hold me up when I was flailing.

She held me close and told me I was right, that I had earned a place out of the darkness.

And today she called me “girlfriend” right where everyone could see and it was so shocking I cried out in surprise when I saw it.

And the world has yet to crash into the ocean, but I’ll keep you posted.

“So, how does it work?”

and we were off and running.  Yes, Casey’s married.  No, they won’t be divorcing.  No, I don’t plan to move in with her.  Yes, I do want them to stay married.  The questions bubbled up slowly as she got braver and I tried to put myself in her place and imagine how it would feel to find out about poly for the first time.  I didn’t bring up anything about gender – I think that will have to wait until they’re comfy with the structure of the arrangement.  Then I’ll spring it on ‘em.  Heh heh.

More questions about anger, about how I fit in, about my marriage.  Have I met “the wife”?  Does she hate me?  I know I don’t make it easy for them – I haven’t gotten a divorce, I haven’t moved to Washington, I haven’t demanded Casey leave her happy family so we can be together – what sort of tear-jerker Lifetime movie starring Victoria Principal am I?  On top of the new-concept confusion, there was also the issue of the swarming weasels that necessitated we converse in code.

I have to admit…honesty does feel good, even if it’s difficult to express.  Laying it all out in the open has its charms, although I was frustrated by the difficult communication – I had to present it all in black and white, ignoring the rainbow of subtleties.  I couldn’t express how happy they’ve made me, how full my life is, how much I miss her, and how much I want her to be happy, which means sharing the love.  And then there are the ways I’ve changed – how much I’m starting to enjoy my new-found freedom, and how much I’m not ready to rush into another live-in relationship anytime soon.  (Let’s be clear – I would love live-in sex, but I’m in no rush to go back to committee meetings to decide if a picture can be hung in the bedroom.  I’m kinda loving putting pictures wherever I damn well please.)

So here’s to attempted communication, as basic as it was, and to my sister’s courage in opening this particular can of worms.  Family time is never easy for our little band of misfits, and it’s frequently painful and ugly, but at least it’s never that most damning of condemnations -

with me around, it’s truly never boring.

“So the plan was to get me all crazy jealous, eh?”

“No baby”

“Just a happy accident?”

“Perhaps”

“YOU are a DOG”

“Yes.  Yes i am.  Thank you for noticing.”

There is an alphabet of shorthand people use to try to make sense of the intricacies of polyamory in all its various forms.  The simplest way to explain the letters is to start by imagining two people who are intimate together, who then form two dots which can then be connected by a line to create a capital I.  If the group grows to three, you can form a V (if there are two people who never come together as a couple) or a triangle (if they are all intimate with each other.)

I am most comfortable and familiar with something like an N – two separate couples joined by a single line of intimacy.  For a long time, I had this with Casey – we were involved, but each had partners who were not, and the symmetry was a comforting source of strength.  But now our safe little N has quickly morphed into a V, with Casey in the middle.

V’s are REALLY hard for me.

Tonight Casey went out to celebrate her 17th wedding anniversary.  She looked really good, and it made me crazy knowing all that effort and gorgeousness was for another person.

Another woman.

Now, normally, I’m pretty good at keeping these sort of thoughts at bay because 1)  Mrs. Kyle makes Casey very happy and I truly love seeing Casey happy and 2)  the reality of the situation is that if their marriage becomes unstable…well, I’m the new guy, so I’ll definitely be the first thing to go.  I’ve got one selfless reason and one cold hard selfish fact nudging me towards better behavior, and they usually keep me well balanced with my jealousy in check.

However, after that little exchange above, suddenly the cute banter felt a bit more cutting.  It started out joking, but it ended up feeling serious.  Maybe it was the bad boy grin on her face, and maybe I’m just feeling a bit too emotional lately, but, damn, that jealousy slid in easy between my ribs like a well-sharpened knife.

Did I mention how good she looked?  And fuck it all, she looked that way for someone else.  Someone else she loves.  Someone else she wants to fuck.  Be intimate with.  Be inside of.  Take inside…

Sometimes it’s a fucking horror show in my head.

It never lasts long, but jealousy sure knows how to do damage that’s quick and to the point.  It’s selfish, it’s foolish, and it’s full of self pity and low self esteem.  And, as was pointed out to me more than once,

it’s tragically,

stupidly,

annoyingly

human.

Once again, life is nothing – NOTHING – like the colorful brochure.  I’ve really gotta find someone to talk to about that.  But when I find that person, I’m still not sure…

should I insist they change life?  Or just the brochure?

And, yeah, the therapist has suggested maybe I should work on that.

What this means to you, though, is that there’s a slight lag in my posts. By the time I sit down to write about something, it’s already been felt, pushed down, exploded and dealt with, especially because I don’t like writing about bad news. The post I wrote yesterday described what I’ve been feeling for a couple weeks, and something that Kyle and I have been talking about for just as long, which means that it might have been tumbling around in my psyche for a lot longer.

Kyle, however, writes about his life in something much closer to real time, and so the post that he wrote yesterday might feel a bit abrupt.  It looks a lot like a tv show – the problem cropped up at 7:30, and was solved by 7:55, with time for one last witty joke between the stars.

In fact, we haven’t solved anything yet, but what we’re going to do is pretty big.  When we met, we both needed something easy, something simple.  We created a place for each other that was more fantasy than reality, and it fit us both perfectly.  As time’s gone on, however, we’ve outgrown that initial design, and Kyle and I have agreed to discuss a new way to be us.

But don’t misunderstand – I don’t play games.  I really was ready to walk away from all of this because it hurt so much, and the grief I was feeling was very real.  Kyle surprised me by being willing to reconsider a lot that we both had been taking for granted.  It is amazingly romantic to be told I’m worth/loved/valued so much, but there’s still a lot of work to do.

So, what’s the moral for me?  To speak up, and speak with conviction.  That I shouldn’t take anything for granted, especially that rules can’t be broken.  Trust more, fear less…especially myself, but also Kyle.

One of my favorite quotes comes from The Tempest, one of my favorite of Shakespeare’s plays.  Prospero and his daughter, Miranda, were stranded/exiled on an island full of magic and Prospero, a great magician, calls up a storm that shipwrecks a group of men on the island.  Upon meeting them, Miranda exclaims,

O, wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in’t!

I want that feeling, that wonder.  I want to look at this opportunity and see possibility rather than failure, but I’m stumbling a bit on my fear even as I feel buoyed by Kyle’s love.

So here’s to our brave new world.  I am guarded, but hopeful, and I can’t wait to see what we come up with.

As you from crimes would pardon’d be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

Me:  Still working on the garage.  Casey’ll be here on Saturday, and I want to have a place for her to sleep.

Mom:  *Surprised*  Casey’s coming again?

Me:  *A bit flustered that I spoke without thinking*  Er, yeah.  Heart is one of her favorite bands, and they’re only playing a few places, including San Francisco, so we’re taking her to see them.  (Weasel #1) is going, too.

Mom:  Oh…couldn’t she sleep in one of the kid’s beds?

Me:  Er…not really…

Mom:  Oh, I guess she might not like sleeping on the top bunk…well, couldn’t she sleep in your bed with you?  Would that be a problem?

Me:  *Staring at her carefully, trying to gauge her meaning*  Um…well, it would be nice for her to have her own space.

Mom:  Well, she could always stay with us – we have a spare bedroom.

Me:  *Laughing*  Well, if the garage keeps going this way, I may just take you up on that.  Thanks.

Mom:  *Smiling*  So, what else happened this weekend?

Me:  Um…I went to help out at the Dyke March.

Mom:  At the…?

Me:  Dyke March, on Saturday up in the City.

Mom:  *Silent pause*

Mom:  Well, isn’t that nice.  Did they have the breast cancer survivors marching?  When we went to go see the parade they marched without their shirts on, right behind the Dykes on Bikes.

Me:  I didn’t see them, I think that might have been on Sunday, for the big Pride Parade.

Mom:  So…then what was Saturday?

Me:  The Dyke March.  The Dykes on Bikes were there.

Mom:  Oh.

(Pause)

Mom:  *Getting up*  Do you need a pit stop before you go?  I need one.

(Heads to the restroom, returns after a bit.)

Me:  Thanks for lunch, Mom.  It was good to see you.

Mom:  You, too, (Roxy.)  We should do it more often.