through the storm we reach the shore, you give it all but I want more...*

i'm feeling rather devastated... maybe that's too strong of a word... i don't know. today for brunch Muse & i were out eating at a busy restaurant and got into a discussion about polyamory, about what our relationship is, about where this all is going... he admitted that he's felt from the beginning that this is a relationship that may end, because of who i am - specifically that i'm poly. he told me he's aware that he's always holding some part of himself back because of this, and that when we talk poly he can feel himself shrinking back, withdrawing. he just doesn't know if he'll be able to handle it, how he'll react, if i express desire of being with someone else. i spoke with Effie (an ex-girlfriend turned really good friend) this morning and she related her feelings about her current relationship with a monogamous man, and the similarities she sees in our current partners. her advice was to consider if i would be happy being in a monogamous relationship; if i thought i was able to just pretend for the entirety of my relationship with my Muse that i wanted nothing else, noone else, ever. she feels that if i'm unable to do that, i should make sure he never forgets i'm poly, so that if the desire to be with someone else comes up for me, it won't be a shock again, like ripping off a bandage off a freshly scabbed wound.

in theory anyways, i agree with her. the reality of the situation, however, is that the thought of me with other people - even past partners - is really hard for my Muse. he lives with the constant thought that at some point he may not be able to handle being with me, and we'll need to split. i love him far too much to be willing to cause him this much suffering. i know he says he's open. i know he says he's willing to explore. i just can't help feeling that he's only willing because he feels that he has to in order to be with me. that because of who i am he's being forced to confront some of his worst fears. he keeps saying he knows these are lessons he knows he has to face right now, and that he knew these things would be issues when he made the decision to let himself fall in love with me. i'm just not sure i want to be the one to make him work so hard.

i'm probably being unfair. he knows i've had to confront some huge emotions to be with him: my fears of being totally intimate with a man; my combined fear & discomfort around fellatio, my terror at letting someone into my ocd mind-world and seeing my hoarding behaviours... i guess i just feel like the stuff he's had to confront is waaay bigger: the reality that i'm waaaaay closer to gay than totally bi, the reality of many very intense past love affairs - and around fifty past sexual parters, the reality that his physical & emotional love may never be able to meet all of my needs...


i feel like i've been pulled back in time almost, to the same place i was almost a decade ago, falling deeper and deeper in love with Jellybean (not her real name, obviously). When we first got together i was seeing someone else, and she said though she was monogamous, she was okay with the fact that i was seeing someone else. five months later when i was breaking up with him i could feel myself pulling away from her... though she had never admitted it, i knew that she had been putting her own desires on hold for the previous 8 months, in the hopes that one day i would be single, that it could be just us, that someday she would be "enough" for me. i knew watching me grieve for my broken heart was going to be difficult for her, and that when i was ready to date other people again it would be almost unbearable for her. i felt like she deserved far, far better than to compromise what she really longed for in a partner, so i broke it off.

it was horribly painful. i went through a series of rapid rebound hook-ups, pretending how unaffected i was by what i had lost, who i had hurt, and that only confused and hurt her more. i understand her anger, her indignity at my decision to protect her from hurt. she felt i was deeming her weak; that i was patronising her by deciding how much she could handle. i don't know that she ever has - or ever will - really understand that i just loved her too much... perhaps it wasn't a reflection of how strong i felt she was, but rather a fear of how weak i am... of what i am unable to bear... of my limited capacity to see the ones i love in such pain...

i'm finding it pretty unbearable to consider just how much i may be hurting my Muse. i really can't bear the thought of being with anyone else, for fear of his heart breaking. this huge part of me feels like i should just bury any desires i may have for other people, to just pretend this isn't who i am. i want to live in that place where it feels like we're totally vulnerable to each other, like we complete each other... in that place it's easy to just see this man whom i truly want to spend the rest of my life with. this is a man i almost desperately want to have children with; to raise a family with.

i really thought i'd never be in this place again. i had given up any hope of ever loving someone this much. it seemed outside the realm of possibility to fall this in love, unlikely that i would ever find someone i seriously wanted to parent with. even a few months ago i would have been in total disbelief had someone told me i would ever trust a man this much again. i feel like i've been given some giant do-over by the universe, yet i'm being told i can everything i want, except for everything i want. i can have total love and trust and devotion and total partnership, but i can never again run my tongue over a woman's vulva. i can have a stable loving family, but then i can never again experience a first kiss, a budding romance. i can have the best, most fulfilling, orgasmic sex of my life, but i'll never again put on my harness & slide my cock into a warm wet pussy and bring a woman to pinnacle of ecstasy. that i'm even considering the compromise tells you just how wonderful my Muse is, how totally happy i am with him. and yet i find myself wondering not, 'do i deserve more than this?', but rather, 'do i even deserve what i already have, let alone the risk of more?'

* words: Bono (from With or Without You, The Joshua Tree, 1987.)