So many relationships going so many different ways right now, in my life. You, for instance…I used to think that you were so much stronger, so much wiser, and so much more in control of your life. You used to chide me for not being able to deal with my own pain, live with my mistakes, and encouraged me to stop beating myself up. You told me you’d never seen polyamory work. I felt inferior to you in so many ways, barely worthy of your friendship. Now I see your latest post is nothing but a skip on a 45. I hear, I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m leaving. STFU and go then!
Seriously. I don’t know you. So many things I tried to learn from you, I’ve found that you haven’t fixed in your own world. Maybe that’s why you were so short with me. Maybe that’s why you can’t return my email, but I get a comment once or twice a year. Don’t bother,… I don’t know you and I no longer respect you.
And you, my love. You and yours have taught me the fullness of polyamory. You’ve given me part of my childhood back. You’ve given me a fist to lay next to mine. You’ve been there for me in so many ways, I cry with joy knowing your in my life.
And you are new. Fuck, I am so intrigued. So many shadows, so much light, so much pain, so much substance. So much fucking texture. Hell, I’m not sure I even know your birth sex. I’m pretty sure I don’t give a rats ass. In fact, I’m positive of that fact. I’ve shown you the weird, but healthy way I love.
And you! I love cuddling with you. I definitely feel loved in your presence. You feel like family to me. You treat me exactly how I want to be treated. You love me. You support me. You see me.
Loving all of you has taught me a lot about what’s important in life, and I appreciate that more than you know. More than you can know. I’m amazed at the kind of love I am able to give and to receive. I am hurt by you. I am content loving you. I am aching for you.
This, is living.