Golly gosh darn. I nearly can’t take the learning curve of the last few days. I’d estimate it to be about an 89.9 degree angle. And covered in cherry flavored massage oil.
Right after posting what I thought were my exact thoughts on this particular topic of love and open relationships, I had to fess up to unconscious bluffing on some points. That sucks, in like, the most sheepish way ever.
As mentioned, I’ve started dating someone who has a partner. We had a phone conversation last evening, and it got a tad harried from my side when he broached the topic of ‘other people’ involved. What he heard on the line was my silence as he tripped over his words. What I heard on the line was confrontation.
Up until this chat, I envisioned we would talk about serious stuff like this:
I guess his idea was more something like this:
Damn him for being mature. Really. DAMN HIM.
I said I was tired, and we hung up. I was immediately exhuasted and slept like a baby, until I had a dream that my best childhood friend busted into my teenage bedroom and shreaked: “Why are you doing this to yourself? When are you going to just be normal?”
It didn’t sit well with me. I panicked and proceeded to whatsapp myself out of the entire fiasco with open guy. Which then made the harried phone chat the night before look bald. Shiny bald.
Then, I calmed down.
Now, I’m sorta laughing about it. We sometimes put so much stock into love and relationships, but if we can let go, trust that we have our own back, and know that other people do care for us (and if they really don’t, we/god/the Great All still have our back), then maybe we’d learn to be a bit more content with life. Maybe we learn to become less fearful.
To confessional bloggers:
We will sometimes write things we think we mean, when we actually don’t. And then later, maybe we do mean it, but we just needed to breath some life into the idea first. We may make up little lies in our head, because we’re human. We may omit things, and twist things, and shade things in a way that won’t hurt this person or make that person mad.
And then we’ll read it back, and we’ll learn a bit more about ourselves. Because writing is revealing. Writing is opening up, and bringing in perspectives and people and shit that our brain may block.
I say, keep going…just keep going.