Monday, August 27, 2012

Things Go Haywire But a Good Scene Anyway, Part One




After I ran into the Mayor of Kittentown on the beach the weekend before last, I got seriously concerned about dating someone who is not poly. I’m not usually a jealous person, but when monogamous ladies become involved, an icky side of me comes out and I don’t know how to stop it. I haven’t quite regained confidence since that day at the beach, and I’m kind of turning things into a train wreck.

As soon as I realized I had these concerns, I was sure to schedule some extra talking time with Mister Hazel Eyes before our play party date last Saturday. Before that happened, though, facebook happened. I wasn’t even clicking on him, I swear! Just, a picture of him popped up in my newsfeed, looking all cozy with a pretty, earthy girl at some kind of formal event, maybe a wedding. I clicked on his page to check for a status change, and there was another pretty girl all over his wall. We hadn’t gotten to the point of exchanging dance card info yet, so I texted him to ask.  It turns out he is seeing a Nice Girl, and she was neither of the ladies pictured.

I told him that I was scared and that we’d talk, but I spent the rest of Friday intermittently crying. I know it isn’t a competition, but I just couldn’t figure out how to compete with this woman. I feel like because I’m not available all the time, I’ll just never be good enough. I feel so guilty sometimes because I don’t have my whole self to offer, even though (other than timewise) I do have my whole self to offer. I can love lots of people 100% but sometimes guys just don’t understand that.

By Saturday, I felt a little better. I just wanted to make sure that we got some stuff ironed out. I needed to tell him that I had some feelings for him, we needed to go over our dance cards together, and we had to somehow meet in the middle about communication—he is not a good texter/planner, and that’s actually the thing that seems insurmountable. I don’t need someone to be in touch ever minute, I just like little conversational touches that let me know what the plans are and when I might hear back. It’s hard to explain without feeling superneedy, but most people just text in my preferred way naturally.

All that, plus negotiating a scene—maybe a lot of pressure for two folks who are brand-new together.

Mister Hazel Eyes had a flat tire on the way over to get me and complained that it had been “More than he wanted to spend to go out tonight” so he seemed a little begrudging about dinner. I had sympathy about car trouble, but I felt a little hurt and not-date-like at the mention of money—it made me feel a little like a burden, which was a hard feeling to shake.

Anyway, I told him about my facebook fuss and how I’d unsubscribed—it’s a lot easier to ask someone what’s going on than to extrapolate from incomplete online info. He went over who the various girls are, and I hated feeling like he had to explain himself to me. Does he? I don’t know.


I told him about Mr. Popular and the other guy in my maybe pile, and he said he’d try not to be jealous—I said I feel fine about jealousy, except when it makes people go away. He told me about Nice Girl, who is brand new. I couldn’t stop myself from asking:

“So when (Nice Girl) wants to go steady, what happens to me?”

“I don’t know, how do these things usually work?”

“Well, in my happy magical dreamland, she knows about me, and we share, and everything works out great. What usually happens is that the monogamous girl wins and I go away.”

I told him how much our concert date meant, and that I was having real feelings for him. He said it meant a lot to him too, just being there with me. I said I was scared and then said one of the worst poly no-no things I’ve ever said:

“(Nice Girl) is probably easygoing, I’m sure she doesn’t need this much care.”

I am really not a fan of myself in a lot of this story. Please know that I know what I was doing wrong.

We lapsed into a worried silence and Badfinger’s “No Matter What” came on, which made me laugh because it was so ironic and sad. I turned it up anyway and made him pull over in a parking lot overlooking the river and kiss me until the song was over. It sure didn’t feel like a no matter what. It felt like the beginning of another long goodbye.

Next: Somehow we make it to rope class.

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