This is when I’m supposed to “lean into it,” right? Lean to the loneliness, accept being partner-less and alone here, even though, theoretically, I have two partners.
No, not theoretically – I do. Two partners that love and appreciate me. One I could even be sleeping with, if I chose – but he didn’t ask, did he?; the other has his own life and is ensconced in it, in bed with his partner by now. That is no doubt why he didn’t return my text telling him I was sad, and missing him. He’s tired, she’s tired, they have their night time routine. I’m just words on a phone. An interruption, and with that kind of message, not a welcome one.
No wonder he didn’t reply.
Why don’t I ask Adam if I could go sleep with him? Courtesy, mostly. He’d say of course, but he has to get up at 5am and try to or not, I’d keep him awake longer than he’d want to be.
He’s gotten comfortable sleeping alone. So have I, though I like sleeping with someone else just as much.
Then there’s the nights, like tonight, when everyone goes home and I’m alone. And awake. It’s those minutes and hours before I fall asleep, when I want someone to talk to, to share the night’s experiences with.
Lean in to it, Jade. Feel the loneliness. Own it, accept that it is yours. Indeed, it is of your own making.
I want to make a drink. To take a pain pill. To fill the emptiness.
I need someone to unzip my dress.
It’s ridiculous, standing here in the dress I bought tonight, wondering if anyone noticed it. I felt so sexy in it. Now I’m here alone and there’s no one to unzip it. No one that cares or wants to.
This is what being alone is, though. This is what being poly with a man with a family is. This is what choosing this life is.
Sitting in the dark in my little black dress with no one to see or care, listening to the rain fall.