April 16: Figured I better write a quick post to let you all know I’m still alive and still practicing polyamory.
Brad hasn’t been seeing much of Carrie the past couple of weeks. Not sure what’s going on with them. Seemed like she wanted a more attentive, full-time boyfriend. Brad expressed he couldn’t really give her that, so she’s backed off a bit.
But I have a feeling she might give in and see him again. I think it’d be nice if they did. They seemed to have a lot of chemistry, and it seems reinvigorating for him to visit with her from time to time. But I understand her desire to protect her heart, and I’ve finally learned my interfering NEVER helps.
April 17: Alright, so there is some stuff going on.
Brad came home from a food truck festival last night just as I was trying to get in Ben’s pants (for the first time in two weeks).
We knew he’d be coming home soon, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t had a penis in so long and my 33-day masturbation challenge (which I’m on day 20 of) just wasn’t cutting it anymore.
Ben resisted my advances as hard as he could – which is becoming pretty typical these days. First he said Brad would be home soon and it would hurt his feelings.
Then, after I jokingly complained about it to Brad – “Brad, Ben is being so mean to me right now! He’s rejecting me AGAIN!” – Ben said he was too tired from a long, stressful week at work, and joked that he’d already relieved himself of his sexual tension earlier that day (which I suspect was partially out of vengeance for my masturbation challenge).
Whatever the excuse, it didn’t matter to me. I was seething mad. I know this is not healthy, so judge me if you will, but I almost wanted to strangle him. Not because I needed sex THAT bad (which I kind of did), but because the continual sexual rejection in this household cuts so deep (there’s no bigger hit to the ego than sexual rejection) and sometimes I imagine that the men who live here do it not because they find me repulsive, but to boost their own egos.
You know, me wanting them so bad, and them being able to reject me over and over and over, is a real ego boost for them. And yet, I keep coming back for more… probably because I need therapy.
But seriously. There’s something wrong with this picture.
Hey, hey… jealousy
After having a good laugh over Ben rejecting me, Brad told us how Carrie had showed up at the food truck festival with her sort-of-ex-husband . Of course, she was looking “hot” in “short shorts” and awkwardly introduced her ex.
I assume it re-sparked Brad’s passion, because he’s all excited to see her again. But I don’t know if he’ll be able to, as she’s sorting things out with her “ex” and still doesn’t seem satisfied with Brad’s level of commitment to her.
As I’ve said before, I am thrilled for Brad to have an exciting new sexual relationship. I hoped I could be more connected to whatever woman he ended up involved with, but I’m excited for him in whatever form the passion comes.
BUT – I know, there are no “buts” in NVC – AND… It makes me wildly jealous. I don’t look at the jealousy as a bad thing. As a Scorpio, I feel jealously intensely, but I’m trying to welcome it wholeheartedly… to learn to transform it into sexual arousal and compersion – joy for my beloved’s passionate connection.
It’s just hard because his passionate, lustful drive for her is such a harsh, cold reminder of his indifferent, lackluster approach toward me… AND, worse yet, Ben’s ever-colder sexual feelings toward me.
Losing that lovin’ feeling, over and over
I’ve learned not to take too much offense when Brad rejects me, nearly six years into our familial relationship. I know he still loves me like a sister, best friend and mother of his child.
But each time Ben rejects me, it knocks the wind out right out of my sails – a toxic dose of the cruel reality that SEXUAL LOVE DOES NOT LAST.
Only six months into our sexual relationship and I’m afraid it’s dying. His desire for me is growing colder every day. And, to be honest, on many days, I lack desire for him. But, each day that desire does creep back into me, and it’s not reciprocated, I feel like I’ve died a little death. Each rejection is a mini death.
I don’t know what the solution is. To the short lifespan of sexual love. Mourning it’s loss every time it comes and goes.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so tough to mourn the death of sexual love, if we had a constant supply of fresh blood to bring us back to life… or to remind us we’re alive, and desirable.
I’m sure this wasn’t a problem in hunter-gatherer tribal days. But, in our world it presents an obstacle. It is no longer culturally acceptable to have a long string of lovers, rotating in and out, to keep things fresh and new.
But since when did I care what was sexually acceptable? I think I’ve answered my own question. I think it’s time for a new lover.