I feel like, somewhere between last Friday and today, my life went completely off the rails, and I am left standing here, staring down at the wreckage of the train, smoking and twisted at the bottom of the ravine.
It’s not that dramatic, of course. Well, it felt that way…and sometimes, still does, when I am stumbling and grasping for a handhold, for a way through this to the other side, and all I come up with is…a blank wall. Absolutely no idea how to make things better, how to turn things around.
How to stop that train from derailing.
It’s those moments when I just want this to be a normal Tuesday, when I might or might not text Adam to come over, or to meet me out. When my choices are between taking a nice long walk or being lazy and reading in bed, or maybe watching Netflix all night?
But the reality is, I don’t want to fall back into those habits. Yes, I want normalcy again, but I don’t want it at the cost of making the changes needed. If I let us fall back into routine, will anything I might have gained by finally having the confrontation be lost?
The weekend was a crazy one. There was the play party Friday night that started the whole thing. It sounds stupid, but it was Adam not spanking me for my birthday that led to the conversation that he and I had in the kitchen, that ended with him saying, “I’ve got some things to work out,” as he left. See, it was that incident – me being at a play party with just him, everyone jumping up to give me a birthday spanking – except him, even when I asked in front of a roomful of people – that made me realize, once and for all, that it just wasn’t going to work.
Of course, it wasn’t just the questionable interest in kink. It’s not even the fact that he isn’t interested that is the real problem. It’s that no matter what we both know to the contrary, he has kept insisting that he is. It’s just that he’s tired; he didn’t realize I wanted to play; he’s not feeling well, the timing isn’t right…and on and on. Of course I’ve known the truth, but Friday night, I finally confronted him with it, and told him I didn’t want to be in a relationship in which he wasn’t truthful – even with himself – about his own needs and desires. Or lack thereof. In which he wasn’t willing to make the changes necessary to make himself happy. To give himself fulfillment – in our relationship, in his job, in his living situation, in his body and mind. Those needs and desires encompass a lot more than just kink.
So yeah, that pretty much sucked.
Then there was Saturday. My sister and I had plans to meet for breakfast and take my mom pottery painting. My sister read my somewhat dramatic vaguebook post that “Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I’m gonna eat some worms,” (no it wasn’t really, it was just vaguely self-pitying) and she texted first to see what was wrong, and then called straight away to check on me. It warms my heart that we’ve come back to a place where calling to talk about heartbreak is a thing we do for each other again. Anyway, long story short, I didn’t cancel, and it was nice seeing my mom and her, but I was feeling pretty disconnected from my life. Add to that a phone call with Viper in which he let me know he was unhappy with what I had done, and nowhere to go before I was due at his house that night, and I just drove aimlessly around for (according to my little auto-journal app that tracks where I go so I can write about it later) about 2 hours. There was some other lost time…maybe I napped? Or sat and stared out the window. Who knows. In any case, that night V and I went to a play party. I vacillated between wanting to go and not…I certainly didn’t want to socialize, and I had a feeling (after having posted here about “The Situation”) that it would probably be remarked upon. I already regretted having posted anything. But I was numb, and I wanted to feel something, and I had been wanting to play in public with V for weeks. So we went, and I got thoroughly beaten…possibly the hardest he has ever. It was glorious, and for those few short hours I didn’t have to think about what I’d done. And then later that night, at his house, he gave me a lovely, delicate necklace with “Viper’s Kitty” engraved on it, like a name tag. It was beautiful, and a sweet gesture, and I was sorry I couldn’t appreciate it more (although I did/do love it.) But…numbness was setting in again.
Sunday came, and the numbness started wearing off, and Adam hadn’t even texted me, and I was crying, and needing the support of V and what I had started thinking of as my poly family again, and I didn’t have it. Instead I was pushed to go to a pool party, “don’t drink yourself into a stupor,” (gee thanks) and the train maybe fell a little deeper into the ravine as I realized I was well and truly alone in this.
Monday I still didn’t hear from Adam, and I started looking and thinking about options for if I needed to move from the house. I blogged and didn’t speak or text with V all day either, but later I directed him to my blog so that he might know why I was upset, since he didn’t seem to have a clue. He still ignores Sunday’s episode, and how it has eroded my faith in our “polycule.” Today we are talking, but any time that comes up, he ignores it and changes the subject. I’m still struggling with wanting anything to do with him at this point, really, although I am doing the things and saying the words. Maybe this lingering sense of melancholy and disillusionment is only a hangover from my relationship malaise with Adam.
Adam did end up contacting me this morning. He sent me email, because it was too much for texting, he said. And it was. Apparently he and V talked a bit as well. He has acknowledged much of what I said, and says he wants to make positive changes in his life. He also doesn’t want to lose our relationship, and hopes that we can find a way to work through things. I do too, but I am hesitant to simply go back to the way things were because I feel sad – and I’m just not doing the work on this one. It has to come from him. But, granted, he at least says he wants to do the work.
And now I am sitting here drinking Fireball and wondering about the future. In my immediate future, my roommate is leaving for the weekend, and I will be here alone. I am supposed to be going – with V, maybe his wife will come, I was going to see if Ad wanted to come – to an all-day “grand opening” event for a local kink group, culminating in a play party that night, on Saturday. There are supposed to be people from across all the local groups, and I have volunteered to help with set-up. It seems a good way to get to know others in our community – because let’s face it, if I am going to find someone else to be the “sand,” I’d better start to get to know people outside my relationship with V. It makes me sad and even more bereft than I already feel to know he has no objections to this. But I may say “fuck it” to everyone, and spend the entire weekend here, at the house, alone. I could get a hell of a lot of work done, both in the house and in my mind. I had considered disappearing for a few days anyway (I had actually packed my bags and was inquiring about local AirBnB’s yesterday, but it didn’t work out.) So maybe a no-contact staycation this weekend is in order. Maybe I can get that train back on track. Or at least pull it out of the ravine.