This is where my real relationship and my blog writings intersect. Everything I write is true. All of it.
It is not, however, the entirety of my relationships. I cannot write enough to adequately represent the fullness of my life and the love that is between me and Special Man Friend. I self-edit, I pick and choose how I portray myself and the people I love. I try to maintain most of my anonymity. How open can I be without possibly hurting someone I care about? My metamour, CC and I have an amazingly complicated relationship. It’s not something I can work out in this public forum. I blog from a place of openness, but I never forget that by putting my life out there, other people risk exposure and examination and even criticism.
This is for Special Man. He is very special. He is important and loved. He is also kind of annoying, really really likes to be right, and his ankle makes this cracking and grinding sound which makes me cringe when he chooses to point it out to me. He’s often late, and he doesn’t plan ahead very well. As a mother with a large family, that drives me batty. He mispronounces words sometimes, and I don’t correct him, which takes a lot of self-control. When we argue, he likes to be right. (He loves to be right.) He’s a coffee snob and an intellectual know-it-fucking-all, which is maddening, because he usually does know (it all.) He’s stubborn, opinionated and, well, can get kind of self-righteous.
I’m a real person. I’m writing about real poly. And some days, it bites. It’s not all flirty fun and first dates and shared Google calendars. I get lonely. I think about walking away. It gets complicated. I’m not an easy person to be with. My brain is constantly processing and rethinking things. I don’t think I get everything I need, and worse, I don’t think I even know what I need exactly.
We try to be there for each other. Most of the time we do okay. Sometimes, we don’t and life gets messy and frustrating.
(I hear I can be pretty fabulous in the sack though, so at least there’s that.)