What’s Done, Is Done.

“Things without all remedy
Should be without regard: what’s done, is done.”

~ William Shakespeare

When I walked into Finn’s place, the cat greeted me immediately with meows of “Where the F*&$ have you been?”

I had come in search of the vacuum bags to go in the vacuum cleaner that had, at one time, been my mother’s. Then, somehow, it became mine. Then I gave it to Finn. Then I got it back. Along the way the spare bags and filters went missing.

It would have been easier to buy new ones, but I was sure I knew where they were at Finn’s place.

Finn wasn’t going to be home for another half hour, but told me to let myself in. We have been separated for almost two years now. His girlfriend has been in the process of moving in with him. It was strange to see all her things intermixed with his. As I searched the house (to no avail) for the vacuum bags, it was weird to come across things like artwork that Finn and I had bought together, sitting alongside things of hers.

This is the first time I have had the feeling of having been ‘replaced’. Seeing things of his that used to sit alongside things of mine, now sitting next to her stuff. It felt eerie.

I’m actually one of people who introduced them to one another, she was part of our extended network of friends when we were just breaking up. Their relationship was one of those things no one could have predicted, but in retrospect their coupling makes perfect sense, and they are good for one another. She does things for him that I never would have done. I have no resentments about their relationship, I just didn’t expect them to live together so soon.

Downstairs I came across a row of Finn’s ties. Almost all of them, I had bought him as gifts. I think there were seven; ironically, one for each year we were married. Damn, I have a knack for finding good ties. And seeing them there, I wanted to rip them down. I wanted to take them back, I wanted to take it all back.

I’ve cleared through so many things from our marriage, and I’m continuing to rid myself of the stuff we jointly acquired. And yet he has hung onto all of it.

And all of it has memory.

I’m finding that it upsets me that he holds onto it. Like he is still holding on to me.

The cat was happy to see me at least. He purred and rolled around and let me pet his belly before jumping over to his treat box and making eyes at me. I gave in. I gave him a double serving of treats, right from my hand.

I miss the cat. I don’t miss the husband.

I think I feel resentful that all these things that were jointly acquired still play such a huge role in his life. It’s my own judgment of course; I see it as a sign of him not moving on totally. I have to remind myself he has always been a bit of a pack rat, and comes from a family that loves the comfort of many things around them. He probably doesn’t share my outlook on ‘things’ and belongings. Actually, I know he doesn’t. He still has t-shirts that his abusive ex-fiance (years before we met) gave him.

We chatted briefly when he came home. I asked him how he felt about his girlfriend moving in. The words sounded positive “It’s great, it’s a natural direction for things” but there wasn’t emotion behind them.

I felt heavy, almost sick, after being at his place.

We still haven’t filed for divorce. There’s a backlog of joint taxes that have to be filed first (he’s looking after that, apparently), and then, then hopefully we will be able to afford a divorce. It occurs to me that this may be expedited now that he has a live-in partner.

It would have made so much more sense to just buy new vacuum bags. A trip to the hardware store seems less emotionally stressful than a trip to the ex’s. I guess it was worth it to see the cat.

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O Brave New World!

I’m sitting here, waiting for the bath to run, listening to the pitter-patter of rain and the exploding Halloween fireworks outside, and I am feeling so incredibly lonely and alone.

I question my life choices far more than I should.

What if my mom was right? What if ‘sexually deviant’ people can never be happy? What if there really is no silver lining in all this. Have I been foolish? My heart yearns so badly to have connection with one person, let alone multiple people, and at every turn I find myself feeling disillusioned, disappointed, distracted, defeated.

I want to love with every pore of my being. And I don’t want to limit it. And I’m tired of feeling the connections of love that I build cut short.

WordPress says that the writing assignment this week is to write on the theme “I wish I were”.

Some days, I wish I were monogamous and straight.

I wish I could have had a more ‘traditional’ life. That I could be like the happy housewives, starting their families, looking after their homes, their babies, their husbands; preparing large festive meals for their family and friends; attending community functions and being a productive member of their society. I wish I were able to fathom what that life could be like with me in it.

I wish I were able to stay focussed and devoted to just one person in an intimate monogamous relationship. That I were content with one man and one man only.

However, that isn’t my reality. I tried the mono-hetero thing. 8 years. I was miserable, unhappy, and only began to find joy in my life again when I started to see the possibilities of a poly and bisexual lifestyle.

I spent some time today hanging out with my ex-husband, Finn. People are sometimes surprised that we are still friends, that we still talk, and share with each other what’s going on in our lives. Our separation was so entirely mutually amicable that there’s not really any ‘bad-blood’ between us, and for that I’m grateful. I do miss his company some times. Not the pot-smoking, or his body odor, or boring sex, or frustrating way of doing things, but I do miss his company.

We used to cuddle up on the couch almost every night and watch a tv series, usually sci-fi. We went through Stargate, Farscape, Battlestar Gallactica, Fringe… sometimes we would watch comedy movies, like Blades of Glory, or epic action adventure superhero movies like The Watchmen. He knew my ups and downs, understood my frustrations with my mother, and over the years he learnt how to read when I was just tired versus really depressed. Out of every one who is a regular feature in my life today, he has known me the longest. And so it really hit home this afternoon when he shared with me that he’d had a dream a couple of weeks ago that we were sitting on the couch, cuddled up, watching a movie just like we used to do, and that he missed that- because I miss that too.

Not that we are going to get back together. That’d be a most resounding “no”. We’ve had a good laugh at the very divergent relationship paths we have taken. He’s in a really beautiful, loving, monogamous relationship with a woman who I think is a perfect match for him. They compliment each other in wonderful ways, and I’ve seen that she brings out some of his best qualities, qualities I never saw come out when he and I were together. And I, on the other hand, have been a wild child- this summer especially- diving into the deep end, in many ways, to a world that I had for so long yearned to experience, and yet, never had, till now.

I miss the companionship. The comfort of that reliable relationship.
When I have longed so much for the freedom that this poly lifestyle affords me, when I have spent so many years with my real self pent up, why is it I feel so discontent and unhappy now?

I wish I could have more emotional detachment in my poly relationships. It’s a common misconception that poly people have some kind of immunity to feeling hurt, jealousy, anger, or any of those more shadowy-side of the emotional spectrum. Well, I can’t speak for everyone, I just know that I most certainly feel all of those, as equally as I feel the happier things like love, adoration, joy and contentment.

I can’t help but love someone. And love them completely. And want to share that love all-the-time. And maybe its the impatience in me that causes me so much grief, perhaps I want things so immediately that I rush into things with a wild abandon, only to grind to a halt when I realise I’m moving too fast and should stop to think things through.

What on earth do regular, normal people do? You know, those straight and monogamous ones? Is there some massive chapter in life skills, covering patience and virtue, self restraint and thoughtful consideration, and maintaining one’s emotional well being that I somehow missed out on entirely? Are there bi and poly people who have those skills too? If they do, how on earth did they learn them, and where can I sign up for the next course please?

I wish I were able to take a peek into the future. To look at myself in 10, 20, 50 years from now, and see what I’m doing. My hope would be that I’m happy, and content. Surrounded by people I adore and share mutual bonds of affection and love with. It would be so consoling to know that, despite the momentary ripples and tremors I experience day-to-day in my here and now, somewhere down the road there’s equilibrium waiting for me.

So much of my self-work the last few months has been about receptivity and my inability to be open to receiving. This has manifested in many ways- even down to my ability to let someone else give me an orgasm. Somewhere in my subconscious lies a pattern of diving into connections and then shutting down when they might be reciprocated fully, of refusing help from people who love me lest I seem weak, of stubbornly persisting in courses of action that I know will lead me nowhere and/or could cause me harm, a pattern of lashing out in anger at the people I care about the most when I feel my most vulnerable and scared.

In that preview of the future, I’d hope to see a me who is able to receive: who can trust the people she meets, rather than treat them as enemies first and friends later; a me who has forgiven all wrongs, including the mistakes I myself have made; a woman who can really walk-the-walk and talk-the-talk, and fully embody the core values she believes in and espouses. A me who is gentle with herself, and with others.

Interesting to note that in expressing that future vision, I don’t seem to care if I have a life-partner or not, or whether I have children of my own or not. I think I’ve trained myself to be unattached from the notion of either, even though deep down in my core, I know I still want both. It won’t look like anything that I had in my marriage with Finn. I honestly doubt, if it happens, that it will resemble any other relationship model I’ve known. But, there’s that fantasy lurking in the subtext of my mind- of the perfect picket-fence partnership, with plenty of poly playfulness- that needs to be acknowledged.

Yes, I am still looking for a life partner. Eventually. Not right now, though some long-term security and stability would be quite welcome. Can I do this while still being poly and singleish? I wish I were certain that I could. I’m not. I’d like to believe it’s possible. Only time- and a heck of a lot of patience- will reveal if it really is.