Life as an Extreme Sport

Out On A Limb

Today has been interesting; quiet and contemplative, sad and frustrating.

We had a lot of fun last night; first went out and met some folks, had drinks and good conversation (and asparagus – lots of asparagus). Then headed out to Moulin Rouge night at a club – got dressed up as a French whore from the 1890s and had fun doing it.

S~ was there. That didn’t go well. Drunk, she shot me a nasty look when we were introduced; he disappeared to the bar, not realizing he’d left me behind. The minute he left she collapsed into a crying fit into someone else’s arms. The rest of the night she had a group of people around her, all gesturing at me, looking and pointing. Sigh. It wasn’t easy. The club kicked up my asthma and today has been rough for it, as well.

Today was mostly rough because we talked about B~. In fact, that’s where he is right now – on the roof, talking to her. She called last night while we were getting ready to go out – he became agitated and upset, refused to answer the phone but just got worse. I finally suggested that I was going to need 10 or 15 minutes to get made up, and perhaps he should call her. He did. They talked for a while, and I could hear noises of the conversation as I got ready. First, tense and then relaxed laughing on his part.

It was hard. When he got off the phone, we left – ended up starting to talk about it. About how I feel like I’m in a media blackout, with little information, only scattered things here and there. We didn’t get too far in the conversation; it was a short ride to the party. But the mood from it faded quickly…

I brought it back up today, though. I felt like it needed to be finished, that I was uneasy. Probably both because it was unfinished, and because last night was so rough with S~. We talked for a while, and I finally managed to spit out what was so frightening and upsetting. He has so often in this last week and a half mentioned that he’s just waiting for B~ – he’s waiting for her to get better, for her medications to work, for her to stable out. And once she gets that, he’ll be able to unpause things and continue with a serious, long term relationship with her.

He agreed that this was at least a hope, although not something he considered a reality (not much, anyhow), and why did it bother me? I realized that it was because when he gets that, that I feel I’m going to fall to the wayside. I’ll be replaced, put on the back burner, any number of other ways to put it. That I’m a spacer while he kills time.

He was somewhat taken aback that this is what I was hearing, and asked why – why couldn’t he have a serious, long term relationship with her and I at the same time. I simply looked him dead in the face and told him I wasn’t polyamorous – I’m not, not right now. I wish I could be, it would make some things easier. But I’m not. The look on his face was shattering; guess that’s [polyamory] what he had been hoping for. Really, I don’t know why. He told me when we talked about this earlier in the week that he knew B~ wasn’t, that she was just trying to make do until he decided to settle down with her. I told him then, and I still maintain it, that he will only be able to have a serious, long term sexual relationship with one of us – she wouldn’t stand for it, even if I could.

He didn’t understand, if I was so convinced about this, why was I here, what I was doing. Where was my hope? I told him then my hope. That I look around this place and I see where my artwork would hang, my clothes would lay, where I would work and read and play. That I see him and I laughing in a month as we’ve not spent more than a a few days apart, that we consolodate and try again, living together. That in August we laugh at the courts and pull back the papers, or that we go thru with it, immediately setting another marriage date. That we fall into and keep this harmony and fun together.

Swaying alone, out on my limb…

He didn’t see that hope, not when I was sad about B~ and him. Why should he see it then? Then, he’s focusing on her and what to do with that, and it shouldn’t be about what makes me happy or sad, simply about listening to him. And when I listen to him, I hear the caring and affection, what I would dare to call love. I hear how much he wishes she would stable out, that things could be the way he dreamed. He dreamed of her. I feel like I need to encourage that, that he chase that dream he had – isn’t that what I’m doing, chasing my own dream?

It’s all bolloxed and confused, it’s all twisted and turned inside. He says I take his words, that he doesn’t want a long term anything with anyone, that he is happy living alone, all of that, too seriously and firmly. I ask how else can I take it, except as truth? I have the moment to be happy in, and to cherish everything I experiance and feel with him. How can I not hear his words and accept them as the truth, at least for now? As much as this is about having fun and enjoying life, I have to have some layers some barriers some protection for what feels inevitable.

What feels inevitable? That he will hear what I said this afternoon, that he will see my actions, and realize he cannot give my hopes to me. That, as with S~ and less so with B~, he will agonize over how to tell me it can never be more than it is, knowing that upon hearing that I will be crushed. That he will wonder how to phrase it nicely, to let me down gently…

Or perhaps it feels inevitable that she will get her medications straightened out, and suddenly I won’t be invited over, join him at the clubs or movies or anything else. Because she’ll be here, he’ll be there, they’ll be building their dreams and romance together, and he will look at me in confusion and say “but I told you I was waiting for her, didn’t I, and now I’m done waiting and she’s ready for me…”

I’m not doing well, and on top of it all, I can’t breathe.