• Polyamory

    by  • July 20, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Acceptance • 0 Comments

    My partner of four years has always had an interest in seeing other people. Threesomes and moresomes and on occassion will date one of those special people that he finds somewhere or other.
    This isn’t something he does to me, it’s something that he does for himself and I encourage it because it makes him happy. It wasn’t always easy but we had a system and I always felt comfortable with that system.

    Until I met you.

    You were this strange and wonderous person, the likes of which I had never met nor do I believe that I’ll ever encounter again. You lit up a room when you walked in and that’s not to say you were perfect. You were insecure and put a smile on much more complicated feelings. You doubted your talent and beat yourself up.

    But you were beautiful.

    I love you, even now when you want nothing to do with me, and I’ll always look back on our time together as something magical. You made me feel like a princess, which wouldn’t have been a good thing a year ago or even six months ago. I prided myself on being one of the guys, on being comfortable with talking about both sex and love.

    Then one day on a beaten old sofa I kissed you, and you were so soft. It felt like my world compressed into this tiny square and only opened up when we took a breath. We were so awkward, and I know that never again would I spend all night freaking out over the skemantics of a relationship. I felt like my heart had moved into my throat but I knew I couldn’t live without you, almost as soon as I realized I couldn’t have you.

    You wanted a penguin, someone who would be with you always and only you.

    Could I give you that? Probably, and I’d be crushing the man I love. Leaving him in the dust.

    We’d have finished our last years of college together, giddy and explorative, then you would have gone on to teach music and I would write as we settled down in a nice home with one dog and two cats. Our families would get on famously and we’d have start a family and live happily ever after.

    It was right there, in the distance.
    All I had to do is say “Yes, I will be yours. All yours forever”.

    But I didn’t.

    I told you that I loved him too, and that it didn’t have to be a battle over my heart. That I could love you both. That you had already won, so please stop fighting let’s just be happy together.

    Of course that couldn’t work, of course that was a selfish thing to hope for. And still I hoped with all my heart that it would work.

    I’m proud of you though, in a wierd way, for not settling for anything less than what you want. And I won’t forget the sound of you crying as you decided to let me go.

    I’ll try to forget about the begging you to stay part though, that wasn’t fair to you.

    So this is my goodbye letter, only we’ve already said goodbye.
    Perhaps this is my acceptance letter where I take the burden of all those what if’s and put it down. Because I know you’ll be happy and I know I will too, even if the thought that we won’t be together stings the back of my throat and makes me want to laugh so hard that the tears wont be so painful.

    I love you dearly, and I still hope for your forgiveness even though we both know your better off forgetting all about this.

    sleep well

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