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Was It Worth It?

19 Sep

My wife’s boyfriend dumped her.

This was a whole new drama I was not prepared for. She cried for days. She called him names. She hated him, she loved him, she didn’t know how to feel. It was like living with a sixteen year old.

Apparently she had seen it coming for a week. That explained the worried, stressed expression she had been wearing for days. It seems Abernethy’s primary had become threatened by Bayani, and didn’t like sharing any more. I think he tried to do it via text, but she demanded he at least do it in person.

He did. And she cried some more. For days.

I will let her go into the details of the breakup, how he could have handled it differently, what their relationship is at the moment, and how she felt through the whole thing. All I know is she cried a lot, and depended on good ol’ long suffering Myrddwn to make it better.

A small part of me was relieved it was over, that I would now have more of her to myself. It wasn’t that I minded sharing in principle, I just didn’t like having to give up time with my wife on a case by case basis. When he was playing with her, I was not. Then I felt guilty for being relieved.

Another small part of me was irritated that his relationship with her had boiled over and spilled into mine. I didn’t like that she cried around me, that she pouted in front of me, that it added a great deal of stress into my already stress filled life. And I felt guilty about that too.

Mostly I was upset that my wife, my best friend, my life partner, the Mother of My Children, was hurt. I wanted to make it better, and I couldn’t. I was there for her when she needed a hug, or a compliment, or a shot of tequila or a good hard fucking. That was it, that was all I could do. She had to get through this on her own. Without me. And I hated that.

And it dragged out. Over the course of the next week they kept texting, poking at the wound, making it worse. They were trying to make it better, they still wanted to be friends, but Abe is not the best communicator and he kept saying the wrong thing, asking the wrong questions.

I tried to understand what she was going through, but it was hard. How, exactly, does one comfort one’s wife after she has been dumped by another man? Another person, I should say, because it didn’t matter that Abe was a male, this person caused her pain. Bayani will no doubt suffer even more when Fanny finds her own primary to settle down with and breaks things off with us. I will, too. I dunno, maybe it is worse for me that he is a male; I am not 100% comfortable with her dating other men. I’m ok with it, I really am. But I find I don’t want to be friends with the guy, I don’t want him over for dinner, and I don’t want to double date with them. This tells me I still have some lingering problems with it, not enough to get in her way, but enough that I have my own issues arising from the breakup. I find that I am resentful of his intrusion, and of the time it has been taking her to get over it. I find myself thinking ‘she has a husband who loves her, why is this one little loss such a big deal?’ Not exactly a fair question. These are my own issues, ones I will not burden her with, she is troubled enough already. And they really are nothing more than minor irritations, no more than passing fancies.

It’s a week later, and she still tears up. Last night it was seeing his changed relationship status on Facebook. She showed me a picture of the rival girl who was chosen over her, and demanded to know who was prettier. My wife is, definitely; the other girl looked like a dude.

It has been interesting to watch this from(mostly) the outside. She really did let herself care for the guy. She went into this with complete abandon, she did not hold back. This was not just about having dirty titillating sex with a man other than husband, this was about having a complete relationship. It was draining for her when it ended, and I wonder how often she will allow herself to do this. Will she throw herself into the next relationship? Or will she tread lightly, moving slowly and cautiously? Will there be a rebound, and how will I deal with that?

This is not like the breakup of a single person. There are too many other people involved to allow that same kind of impulsive, selfish behavior. I’m talking about revenge sex — relax all you single people I’m not implying you are selfish or impulsive, or even that Bayani is, just this one specific behavior she showed. Bayani confessed to wanting to fuck his best friend just to hurt him. Again with the 16 year old behavior? This was nothing more than a shyly confessed urge, and I must commend her for realizing what she was feeling and why. She would never act upon such an impulse. And I can understand that desire, wanting to lash out like that. And even the impulse to give in to a rebound fuck, I can understand that, knowing she would never act upon such an inclination. Maybe if she were single, if she did not have several other people to be courteous of, but I doubt it. She’s too nice a person to really hurt someone.

This has even affected my relationship with Kasini. Because of the timing of things, with Bayani’s relationship with Abe starting just before I allowed myself to act on my feelings for Kasini, there has been a slight undercurrent of worry that the only reason I am allowed to be with her is because Bayani has Abe. And once that ended with him, I was certain Kasini would be worried that I would have to stop the sexual aspect of our relationship. This is not the case. Abe did allow my wife to relax her insecurities about Kasini, but now that we are through that door, there is no need to close it.

This breakup has affected more than just their relationship. It has spilled over into the one I share with my wife, and the one I share with Kasini. I am not entirely certain how Fanny has been affected by this, we don’t talk about things the way I do with Bayani and Kasini.

It is rather naive to assume, and maybe I did, that her other relationships would not spill over like this, that she could keep them to herself. We are both affected by this, we have shared this event, and we both have to own what we feel rather than shove it aside. We are too close, share too much, to expect to keep every aspect of our other relationships separate. I think it is ok for me to have the reactions I have had. It’s ok for me to be irritated and impatient, but it is not ok for me to snap at my wife, or insist she move on already. It is not ok for me to tell her my sympathy has run out. And it is ok for her to let her grief show where I can see it, where I can be affected by it. Where I can help her with it.

So it’s over for now. There will be other relationships for her, and for me. I have learned a lot from this one, both about myself and about my wife, and I am sure I will have something new to learn from the next one. I just hope it is not nearly so painful for her. I asked her if the joy she got from it was worth the pain he caused her.

She answered without hesitation.

Yes.

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A different side of the story…Part two–guest post by Bayani

31 Aug

I guess I should go ahead and finish my story of confusion, attraction, and self examination.

After Abe and I had our little makeout session at his house, he went out of town for almost a full week. This gave me a lot of time to think about what it was that made me panic and whether or not I could go through with more.

After Abe came home from his vacation, we planned to meet up again. This time, I knew what I wanted, how far I could go, and was ready to accept the consequences. When I left the house, Myrddwyn stopped me and stuffed a condom in my pocket. Does that seem strange?  A man gives his wife a condom on her way out the door for a date with another man. Strange, yes. Polyamory is strange sometimes.

We didn’t have any concrete plans, again, because we are lame and just don’t make plans well. I met him at his house, took one look at his exhausted self, and decided that he’d be no fun if we went anywhere. We decided to stay in again. We went upstairs again, with the pretense of looking for a movie to watch. Through some unspoken mutual decision, we skipped that part and commenced with the kissing. I will keep the details to myself. I imagine that Myr doesn’t want the details, and none of y’all other readers need to know anyway. All I can say is that it was terrifying, exciting, and wonderful. I got the feeling that Abe was waiting for me to freak out and stop again, but I didn’t.

I came home late that night, and Myr was waiting with fifty million questions. He processes things by gathering every piece of information possible and then rolling it around in his mind. This would have been fine, except I hadn’t finished processing it myself.  I process things slowly, and all in my own mind. It takes me a little while to decide how I feel about most things. I use my emotions and intuition where Myr uses logic and reason. I was still riding the waves of emotion that come from intimacy, especially the first time with a new partner. Myr quizzed me about details that I wasn’t emotionally ready to answer. This is where the *minor* tiff came in. I downplayed a few differences between Abe and Myr. Some anatomical, some techique-related.  I KNOW Myr doesn’t like to be lied to. I still don’t feel like I lied. In all reality, what sane person….okay, let me start this question over…   Who would know how to respond to the question “So is he bigger than me?” when she hadn’t finished processing the fact that she has just slept with the first non-husband man in over 18 years? I admit. I responded with a not-the-whole-truth answer. I responded in the same way a man, when cornered by a wife, responds to the question “does this dress make my ass look fat?”  I was honest, but didn’t give all the facts. Myr got upset. This whole deal has been dealt with in a previous post. I felt a little attacked at the time, and was trying to be reassuring and honest, while letting Myr know that I still wanted to be with him, and still trying desperately to process this HUGE moment in my life. I understood his need for reassurance. I really did, and still do.

Since that day, I have always told Myr the total, brutal truth when he asks me questions. I don’t volunteer information, I don’t see the need to do that. I know more about his trysts with Kasini than he knows about mine, mostly because I read these posts too. if he asks a question, he gets an answer. Occasionally, he regrets asking that question. Sometimes we don’t really want to know the answer. Just like sometimes I regret reading these posts, especially when I get a couple of them in a row that are intense. These are the things we deal with as a polyamorous couple. There is still jealousy. We just know how to deal with it.

On top of all that drama, Abe got me sick that day. He didn’t KNOW that he’d brought home what has now been dubbed “the Vegas Plague”. He didn’t realize that the symptoms that seemed like normal allergies to him would knock me flat for two weeks. He didn’t know that I would then pass it to Fanny, and my daughters, and Myr, and a couple of my co-workers, making me feel  a little like Typhoid Mary. I have since made him feel sufficiently bad for that.

And so the drama continues. The aftershocks of this “affair” are just starting to hit the rest of my life, and I may post at a later date about what it has meant for Abe and me in our other circle of friends.

Matching Undies, and I Owe Her Three New Pair

23 Aug

Now, we all know that when a woman makes sure her bra and panties match, she knows there is a chance someone will get to see them.

Not all the time, sometimes they just want them to match. Sometimes they just want to feel sexy for themselves.

But sometimes they put on a matching pair because they know, or hope, that someone will get to see them, and will appreciate them.

Most of the time Bayani puts on whatever is clean. But when we are going out, just the two of us, for a birthday or anniversary or just because, she puts on a matching pair, just for me.

The first time she was going to sleep with Abe, I had to watch her put on matching bra and panties for him. That was hard. It hit me right then, that my wife was going to fuck another man. I had to watch her primp, for him. Watch her put on her make up, doll herself up, make herself desirable, for him. Made me realize that perhaps I have taken for granted all that she does for me.

There was no good reason for me to object to this behavior. I know it’s not rational. But it stung. I was not really upset, just uncomfortably reminded of what she was doing. Now, I am fine with it. Really, I am.  But I don’t have to like her being excited about it either. And what good would it do to ask her not to? All that would do is cause resentment, and honestly, indulging in that urge would not be good for me either. I should not want to control her when she is with him, how she is with him. I want her to have as much fun with him as she can. But sometimes, I have emotional reactions. There is nothing wrong with that, as long as I don’t let it negatively affect my behavior. For the most part, I think I behave rationally.

And then the other night, a woman put on a matching pair for me.

It was our first time. Well, I didn’t know ahead of time it was going to be. She must have, because when I took her clothes off, she was wearing this incredibly sexy red bra, and an equally sexy red bottom. That was one of the hottest things I had ever seen.

She did that for me.

She wasn’t my wife, she didn’t put on the pair she knew was my favorite, it wasn’t an anniversary or birthday. It was just a random Saturday and she hoped I would get to see them.

I did see, and I appreciated the hell out of them.

She did it for herself, to enjoy wearing something sexy. But she also did it for me, and that was beautiful. The next time we met for coffee, she wasn’t wearing any underwear at all. She didn’t tell me this until after I left.

She’s a tease.

The next time we got together to have sex, she surprised me again. We had talked about panties and no-panties an awful lot that week, and I was looking forward to seeing what she would choose to wear, or not wear, for me. The whole night she kept laughing at me, as if she knew something I didn’t. With this woman, that could lead to trouble. When I finally undressed her, I was only marginally disappointed to see her bra and panties didn’t match. Hey, at least I got to take them off, so I was happy. Seriously, I was happy, my favorite style of underwear is whatever kind I am pulling off a woman at that moment.

Then I had her hands tied behind her back and her bra off and she was lying on her back(this is an incredibly hot position to have a woman in, btw, and she does this so well…), and I moved to pull her panties aside. She was laughing, for some inexplicable reason. I pulled her underwear aside, planning on diving in to lick her and make her squirm. There was a second pair under the first. And a third pair under the second.

The damned brat was wearing THREE PAIRS OF PANTIES!

Just to spite me. No wonder she was laughing so hard. The look on my face must have been priceless. Well, I could not let her get away with that, could I? Not if I had any hope of ever dominating that woman.

So I took out my pocket knife, and cut them off of her.

Each pair, one by one, slash slash, slash slash, slash slash. She stopped laughing. And judging by the look in her eye, that was exactly what I should have done.

There are some things better than a woman putting on a matching set just for you.

A different side of things…PART ONE–guest post by Bayani

16 Aug

So Everyone knows who I am, right? I am the ever-loved wife of the long-suffering Myrddwyn.

Here’s my two cents about sleeping with another man. I had never really seriously considered having sex with a man that was not Myr before meeting Abernathy. We had talked about it in the past, joking about Tiberius and Alexander, but I had never been serious about considering it before. For some reason, I was very attracted to Abe, and told Myr as much.  I was experiencing what Myr likes to call my “on week” when I am pretty much sex crazed. I went out on a few platonic dates with Abe during this time and he seemed every bit as interested in me. I had made the decision that I was not going to revoke my OPP during this time, since I didn’t want to have this very large decision made by my hormones.
I spent some time thinking and talking with Myr. At the end of the “on week” I made the decision that I wanted to suspend the OPP, and see where the relationship with Abe went. It took a lot more than just talking to Myr. I was very torn. Did I want to continue being able to say I haven’t slept with another man since Myrddwyn? Was that an outdated expectation? What did this very large step into full fledged polyamory mean for me as an individual as well as us as a couple? I agonized over this decision. I started a journal just so that I could write down my thoughts in an effort to get them straight.

There’s the background. Continue reading

That Was It?

8 Aug

It blew up.

Just a little explosion. Small in hindsight, but much larger when right in the middle of it. Expecting to do what we do without hitting any speedbumps was kind of ridiculous.

It happened a couple days after my wife slept with another man for the first time.

I read an email. Now, keep in mind that Bayani and I are open about everything. I allow her full access to all of my emails, every site I visit, every text. She offers the same open access. After her first time with Abernethy, our shared girlfriend Fanny asked her how it was, and she answered in an email. She offered to let me read it, and I declined, wanting her to be able to express herself freely without worrying about how I would react.

I didn’t think about it for a day or two. Then I came home late one night, long after she was in bed. I was not sleepy, so I decided to dink around on the intertubes for a bit. Her email account was left open on my computer. I admit it, I peeked. I mean, she had given me permission, it was ok. I still violated her trust, because I had told her I would not read it. I later apologized, once things calmed down enough to get to that very minor infraction.

But I still read that email, and contained within was information that set off a major anxiety attack.

Continue reading

Wait, You Mean He’s a Real Person?

4 Aug

With real feelings and insecurities and everything?

I am talking about The Other Guy. The one my wife has a relationship with. I guess I should give him a name. In keeping with my alphabetical naming system, and because this was Bayani’s first, I will start with the letter A. Allister. Alphonse.  Abernethy. Yes, Abernethy. Abe for short.

Bayani took a picture of dinner one night, my famous Beer Batter Pizza, and sent it to Abe. He texted back that he was suddenly unsure how he could ever measure up to me. Bayani had to assuage his fragile male ego.

Abe was intimidated by me.

Continue reading

Something Happened Last Night

2 Aug

Here we go, deep breath. *whew*

Last night my wife of 14 years went out and had sex with another man.

And I am fine with it.

Continue reading

Things With Faces

23 May

A friend recently roasted an entire pig to celebrate his birthday.  His soon to be step-son made the connection that meat used to alive and walking around, and he has now decided to become a vegetarian.

As the unofficial pork and barbecue expert in our group, I was asked to be involved.  Not in the making of a vegetarian, in the roasting of the pig.  This was a first for me.  Not only my first whole pig, but my first time cooking something with a face.  It was a little unnerving to look at the dead animal’s eyes as I was covering it with rub and placing over the pit we had constructed.  It had eyes and toes and teeth.  I can easily see how a person could be so moved as to give up meat after such an experience.

But it was just too delicious to pass up.  And there is just something primally enjoyable about gnawing charred flesh from a bone.  We are far too civilized in my opinion.

Besides, the animal was already dead.  It was a locally raised pig, we were told, from an ethical pig farmer who did not use high density feed lots.  I was comfortable dining on the flesh of such an animal.  I have been trying to eat more responsibly, researching growers and farms, finding sources for responsible meat.  This is difficult at times, and rather expensive.  We eat a lot less meat these days, but the quality more than makes up for it.

For some time I have been saying that there is an enormous disconnect between our food’s source and our plate.  Meat comes from the store, wrapped in paper.  Milk comes in jugs(plastic ones, not my preferred fleshy jugs<ok, milk does come from those but I am not interested in pouring it on my frosted flakes>).  Eggs come in cartons.

We do not like to think about where our food comes from, we have spent far too long not knowing, and it has become distasteful.

I don’t want my children to have that kind of disconnect, I don’t want them to grow up thinking that food comes in little cardboard boxes.  Just add hot water and stir.

Which is why we are getting chickens.

I’ve wanted chickens for some time now.  Eggs are perhaps my favorite source of protein, and farm-fresh eggs are definitely in my top five favorite foods, with Brick Oven Pizza, a Charcoal Grilled Garlic Burger, a Really Damn Good Grilled Cheese and a Peach fresh off the tree.

A few years ago, while working as a carpenter, my boss and I were building a garage for my cousin who happens to keep chickens.  He also happens to be a vegetarian who won’t eat eggs (don’t ask me to explain why he keeps chickens).  Every day he would send us home with a carton of fresh eggs.  White and brown and even blue and green.  My boss had never in his life eaten a brown egg.  To him, eggs were white.  He was very brave and tried a brown egg, but could not bring himself to eat a green or blue one, even knowing rationally that what was inside was exactly the same.  It was simply too far outside of his experience for him to be comfortable with it.

My kids fought over who got the blue and green eggs.

I decided I wanted chickens too.  And while talking about it with the family, my oldest daughter, who was six at the time, made the connection that chicken(meat) and chicken(bird) were one and the same.  She refused to eat chicken anymore.  I patiently explained that the dumb bags of meat that are grown for consumption are not the same as the clever, funny, and cute birds people keep as pets.  Crisis averted, burgeoning vegetarianism nipped in the bud.  She still devours chicken with gusto.

That event did cement my resolve to get chickens.  I want my daughters to see where some of their food comes from.  We have a garden, and they eat the produce they see growing there.  They will have to help care for the chickens, and they will collect the eggs from beneath them.

I do not plan on slaughtering any of my chickens.  They will be pets, not food.  And I do not plan on getting a pig or turkey to fatten up.  I doubt my own resolve.  I do not think I could look an animal in the eye, one that I had raised and fed and watched play, and then either kill it or deliver it to be slaughtered.  I have been too civilized, I have been far to disconnected from my food.

And I am ok with that.

Communication Breakdown

6 May

Bayani and I have this friend, two of em actually, a couple. They don’t communicate very well, and I honestly don’t foresee the relationship lasting very much longer.

Communicating comes easily for Bayani and I. Hell, I’m a writer, so communicating comes naturally; and Bayani, well, she is just awesome in every way possible.

But these two friends, as much as I love them both, they are doomed. Watching their relationship, has had me thinking about communication recently, and how Bayani and I go about it.

Continue reading

But, What If He’s Bigger Than Me?

2 Apr

As I find myself more open to the idea of my wife Bayani being with another man, I find myself leaping more and more hurdles.  The most recent, is being insecure about size.

Let’s face it, size does matter.  Just not in the way you think it does.

Continue reading