Reflecting on Why and How I live Poly, Though I hate Doing So.
cross-posted to psychoticfallen
A rough day as always. I don't know why I bother mentioning that. I've been kicked out of upwards of 20 places close to my heart by now, in this spiritual awakening, but sometimes some places just sem like the last straw.
A beauty parlor is dedicated to making women feel like human beings, which they are not, they are overworked slaves, waitresses, whores, mothers, weary virgins getting ready for the prom.
So, they should have understood, that sometimes a woman smells like what she is. I can't help that, don't want to, won't apologize. And yet, I am exiled just the same. My complaint to the corperate office probably won't do any good.
I have discovered through realizing my power, that I sometimes have allies, but I have never had friends. Friends like spending time with you. My allies acting as friends when I felt I needed friends love me, as mothers love children, as masters love slaves, but only a spouse should have to love someone not blood like that. Why is it I can't help doing this to you?
I've lost people I thought I would never lose, people who promised never to leave, Carl for one. Most of you were so shocked at how loyal he was to me to begin with that you probably don't believe this is his fault or responsibility almost in full.
I am a woman and I know my power now. He is a man who hates women, as most men do out of legitimate fear of that power, but instead of being honest about it, he pretends to enjoy their company, kill them with kindness, and I would not be killed, so I was merely left in the gutter to die.
So, I reach for the stars, though no one thinks I deserve them, and they themselves do burn me.
And on the other side of the coin, Aaron is always the one I thought I would most easily lose. We fell in love, or he began to ask me and allow me to love him in 2001. Three or four intense weeks cemented us, but I did not know the nature of the bond, as the distance kept us from defining it. I didn't know the source of the distance was more than miles.
But, I must have. I couldn't figure out why someone as engaging and dynamic as he was, didn't have a partner. When he went silent that spring, abruptly stopped chatting, acted distant towards me, I thought for sure he had found someone in the flesh.
However, he had always had her, even as he mock-proposed to me. Like me, he allowed her to love him and did not reciprocate in the way one imagines appropriate.
I do not see this as a fault, though I used to. I had no choice but to accept it then, though sometimes I appeared not to, and in these moments he attempted to let me go. I would leave as he wished, clinging at the very last in the effort it took to let go as he did.
But, love is love. Relationships form initial patterns and cannot break them with any success or comfort. He inched toward me after dumping me a few weeks earlier, I stood off until he made himself clear and then jumped quite literally through text gestures, back into his arms again.
That he may not love me is not his fault. I am too strong to be loved. I'm sure he wishes to love me, but fears what his honest love reflected back at him through mirror-me would do.
Vanessa may also be too strong, though Bryan called her Aaron's doormat. Bryan understands the beauty in the pain but does not know what it is to organically form a D/s relationship. The so-called submissive is much stronger than the one playing the dominant role, as most women are stronger than men.
Women are doormats, aligned with the ground, the earth, the water, the home. Men walk on them to fulfill their mutual purpose, for as sharks, men are always moving, always leaving, sometimes returning though never fully present. This is not just tradition, it is living ritual and it is right. One must only be careful not to fail to recognize a feminine spirit within a male body or vice versa.
I hardly ever know what Aaron means to do when he goes silent on me, knowing how it hurts, nearly kills me. He only speaks when he fears he may lose me. I don't even think this is conscious for him, but if I read the patterns of my reactions correctly, it is so.
For instance, when I was silent in the spring and fall of 2004, he spoke once in code to let me know he was there, though he would not speak to me that winter when I all but begged for it.
And when I began to speak again, he commented regularly but would not add me as a friend. This made me think he still cared what happened to me because of our history, but no longer liked or trusted me.
I was wrong, or so his explanation lead me to think. He said not adding me right away though he knew I was around was supposed to be an incentive for me to write more. Now, if he had TOLD me that, it might have worked more quickly, or at all. As it happened, I shut down, stopped caring about his sorry ass, started writing again, mainly for Lance, Jon (yourkiddingme
) and Jared.
Of course, in some ways, since he is a great love of my life, I feel almost everything I've written is somehow for him. I know that when I first started lafleuve
it was mostly to speak to him in the absence of him I perceived. I'm sure he didn't know that, but it was. I began it, unable to wait to share it with him, wrote nearly every entry hoping he would speak to me about it later. When he got a journal of his own, I tried to write sexier entries, knowing that was the easiest way to get words from him, and then being surprised when he commented on things unrelated to sex, seemingly more often.
I'm not sure why he is silent now. Trying to learn something or teach me something. I can learn nothing from him I don't know already. I know I must be calm if I want my love to come to me. I know wanting and missing is more interesting than having, but I do not care. I am happy in the boredom of feeling someone there, though the happier I am, the more miserable I feel.
Perhaps this is some mental orgasm denial exercise on his part. I hate orgasms, you know. Intensity, even, and esepcially in pleasure is so painful. But I will endure it to make him feel he has power over me, though he does not.
I think again about what may be happening with his wife, if they discovered poly sucks, and is not for them. Poly always sucks, it is just a better option if you wish not to put a limit on your love. And I know he does not. When the Irish girl dumped him, he thought he discovered he would never love again, but what he really discovered was that he was so good at loving her, he could never allow himself to poison just one person with the strength of his love.
I think, somehow, we learned how to live poly together, he and I. He needed me, and all he had, but knew it was his whether or not he held onto it and tended to it. I learned I could love someone without stated permission, and even though he or she may not be mine in concrete.
And so, as always I cannot properly focus my love on him as I would like, so I can love him, set him aside, knowing he is there, though we cannot touch and make it real, for we are cowards, but what I set down is still mine, and the love I have for it is within me, and between us, not within him.
PErhaps he is reading. I feel he is, though I have not been proclaimed once again as a friend. Still I fear no response. And I mean both that I fear he will not respond, for lack of knowing what to say, or out of discretion (cowardice) and also that I do not fear he will respond.
But I don't care. My journal and its extensions have always been for him, so I might as well say it straight out. But more than that, they are for me, and tonight I felt I had to talk about him. I am tired of never speaking of it, when he seduced me and I had no real choice but to love him for it. Why should I be ashamed for his lack of monofidelity when it was his and not mine to maintain? I should not, and I do not. You never have
whom you love, you merely know him. The non-traditional bond made me see that. Tradition forms around the light of the spirit and that exists, with or without the crystaline castles around it.