Hi all. I’ve been a bad blogger. Life is full and feels as though it cannot be poured into these pages without overflowing onto the floor! I’ve tried though. A draft or three per week goes unpublished. I write, edit, reconsider, walk away. I would never do this in my personal journal musings. I write what comes to mind, to heart. I empty my mind onto the page and lay my pen down never questioning the words. Here, I feel exposed. I try to summarize, to tidy, to prune away the superfluous branches. But my life is not an ornamental tree. It’s like the scraggly pine that’s clinging to a cliff face, sculpted by the elements not by some fastidious gardener’s hand. I’m no writer. I’m no english major. I’m just a girl; trying my hand at conscious non-monogamy, sharing my story, and hoping to connect with other likeminded individs in the digital cosmos. So I’m going to write this. I’m going to hit “publish” and I’m going to walk away.
Patagonia and I have been seeing each other every wednesday for almost a month now… feels longer… He is still foreign to me. I can only relate to him in the abstract. He is what I thought I would be before I started my family 16 years ago. No children, no desire to have any, traveling the world, one adventure after another… He’s like Peter Pan…and I’ve only dreamed of Neverland. Sex is great though. He’s my match in stamina and passion so that’s nice. I just can’t relate to him, and that creates a distance that I’m hoping closes sooner rather than later. Or maybe that’s what makes it so hot. Who knows. We may or may not meet tonight. Honestly, I’m not feeling it right now.
The Counselor and I have met up three times in as many weeks. I’m surprised by the warm familiarity of him. Perhaps it’s just because I’ve got someone new that he immediately defaults to familiar or perhaps it’s that he’s just a kindred spirit. I like it. I like him. We had an especially intense evening three weeks ago that left me reeling. Without going into details, I will say that sexual boundaries were pushed (in a good way), which revealed some deep seeded feelings of catholic guilt and fear of a forever burning soul (inspiration for my last post/poem). It was powerful stuff and I’m glad to have let it out. One step closer to freedom from my catholic upbringing. Plus, the events that led to it were fan-fucking-tastic. Anyway, we got together for breakfast last week to talk it through and it turns out there were many firsts for him as well. It was cathartic to talk frankly about things that are usually only hinted at and whispered about. I invited him over on Monday night to help me celebrate the full moon (sex is the best way to celebrate a full moon!), and we laughed and smiled and came. I want more of him… is that bad?
Irish and I finally met up for a hike yesterday! I’ve missed him and was reminded how much I’m going to miss him when he leaves for California this summer. He’s been such a good friend these past couple years. Our sexual relationship is just as easy, open, generous, and comfortable. It would be harder to let him go if I wasn’t so stinking stoked about him getting into med school!
Work is great, kiddos are awesome, my sex life is dynamic and occasionally dynamo! Life is good. Consider yourself caught up!