There’s a particular situation that isn’t spoken about much, and the emotional protocol for said situation is something not taught by no damn school, no darn parents, and no cool movie that I’ve ever seen.
I think this scenario HAS been in a few silly movies, but NOT from the perspective of a polyamorous person, so the whole damn dynamic is altered and way different than what I am about to describe. I can think of a few silly movies that have a premise somewhat similar but, not as mature and not as forgiving as what I am about to say… but that being pseudo-suggested, I still don’t have a solution!
So… I had a magnificent partner who I was enjoying a heavenly experience with. We were living THE dream. Multiple orgasms. Super fantasies. Falling-asleep-inside-each-other type of connection. Damn magical. But all things come to an end… of sorts.
She needed and wanted things that I wasn’t able to provide after a certain stressful period of my life that had only recently subsided. So, it ended—gracefully, gently, and gingerly. She told me in text, and then called to clarify the text. Then she sent a nice goodbye when I accepted our new fate. I had swallowed the heartbreak pill and moved on to other lovers.
But wait, there’s more!
Three months later… she called me back. When I saw her number, I stopped and thought: What would Taye Diggs do? What would Halle Berry do? What would Matthew McConaughey do? What pray tell?
I could not pick up and play some silly mind game, leaving her out in the cold. That’s not really my style, but I technically could have just ignored her if I wanted. It was over, and if I felt like she was calling for any other reason than to get back together, then maybe I could just let it go to my voicemail, save myself from reopening the wound and the hope that may not be fulfilled. What did I do?
Of course, I picked up the damn call! I’m a hopeless romantic. She called with the best and the worst news I could possibly hear, but I still heard it because I wanted to hear her voice and feel her vibration again.
She told me about some new lover she was with, and how different it was from being with me. I want nothing but happiness for her, without a doubt, but to hear that she isn’t finding it with others or with me was… perplexing and disappointing to hear.
So we spoke for almost an hour, about how she was doing and how I was doing, and how we were doing apart from each other. I felt bittersweet joy extreme. I had no reason as to why we were separate. She was alone. I was alone. Both on a Friday night. Dammit! Polyamory is strange sometimes.
I let it all fade away and said goodbye to her again… until next time she calls for a check-in and decides differently, hopefully.
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