Some days I feel like I have nothing left of myself to offer anyone. Not myself, not my children, my world. It’s not a melancholy that I feel, it’s a weariness that lays on top of my soul and says, “No more.” No more self analysis, no more self improvement, no more lamentations about everything that is not the way it “should be”. I can’t fix everything; I can’t fix anything.
The issue at hand this week is scheduling. Time management. Claiming a slice of my Sweetheart’s figurative calendar pie. Except I don’t just have to consider him and his schedule, and me and my schedule. There’s Metamour and her needs. And then to complicate that, add in her boyfriend, his wife, and her boyfriend. The suggestion has been made that the six of us sit down together and hash out date night schedules.
Somehow, this feels extraordinarily difficult to me. I know that this extended poly network needs to work cooperatively in order to best meet everyone’s needs. But the idea of having to negotiate, or even simply coordinate with four other people in getting time with my most important relationship, has tipped me over the edge and into an unreasonable and selfish abyss.
I do the work it takes to be a good partner to him, and it is very important to me to have a good working relationship with Metamour. So I will get out my planner, and sit down with these people, these good people, and I will smile and be flexible, and do and say the right things.
(But I don’t have to like it.)