When Midnight broke

I told him he had until Midnight to see me.  And the clock chimed but he still hadn’t.

He said he tried.

I want to believe he was there.

But then there’s that whole serendipity thing.

Could we possibly have been at the same place that night and missed eachother?  The answer is yes.  There were droves of people at the screening Saturday night.  But does it excuse the other nights before where he failed to show up?

I’ve been milling around about the details for some time now.  Most people tell me to give up.

“There are too many excuses.  He isn’t showing any action.”

I wish I’d had my camcorder when we were together.  The moments captured on film would have been epic in quality.  I’ve learned that most of those most cinematic moments are when the camera isn’t running.

He once wrote me that “they say the fire that burns twice as bright burns half as long, but what a sight to see for that time.”

I wonder if that’s the case here.  If things are so far broken that they’re incapable of being repaired.

He reminded me last night that he used to call me his mermaid.  It was something silly and cheesy that was brought about when he helped me install a particular curtain above my bed.  He has referenced being in love with a mermaid in a few of his blogs.  I glossed over it and had forgotten about it.

And then it happened.

I was applying for a job over at Yelp when I stumbled upon…

My relationship with him had been open.  I was very publicly private that I had been seeing people while he was too busy with other things than for me.  I found out that he’d dated someone else while we were together and neglected to tell me.

I rationalized it to myself.

“It was fair.  I was doing the same thing.  I can’t really complain about it.”

But a part of me didn’t care for it.  He’d had such little time and yet he chose to spend it with her.

“When you slept with [redacted] I really thought it was over.  The [redacted] stuff took a lot out of me.  I was not happy.” he told me.

So why didn’t we break up then if that’s what he’d wanted?  Why press on through it?

Months passed and we still saw eachother.  I eventually gave him the monogamy that he wanted.  I was ready.  At this point however, the relationship had already stretched and gone a course into the deep end.  He had less and less time for me.  The valiant start out of the gate had slowed down.  We hadn’t made love in…

I didn’t find out about this intentionally.  I was curious when I saw he’d had some new reviews because he’d been on a road trip.  I found a comment on the compliments that upset me though- saying that he and a girl were missed at an event.  A girl with an uncommon name- also known as a mermaid.

I was livid without reason to be so.

When confronted with the information his first reaction was that she was “just a friend.” And then he finally came clean.

The clock ticked down last night.  We talked in spirts.  He never came by.

My roommate came home about 20 till midnight.  I was curious how his weekend had gone and if there was a postcard.  We talked a bit about it.  I came back and looked at the clock.  It was 12:08 and it was quiet.

He pinged me.

He persists.

We argued more and more.  Weather the mermaid he’d blogged about was actually me he was referring to or the girl.

“Would you make time for me?  Would you give me romance?”

No answers.  Ot was getting late and I needed to force myself to sleep.  I was hurt.  I layed down and went to bed.  I “prayed” that the answer of the fate of our relationship would be revealed to me.  I tossed and turned in my sleep.  I woke up at 4.

“So is that it then?”

“What’s what then?”

“I asked you questions.  You blew me off.  So it sounded like I got my answer.”

I repeated:

“Would you make time for me?  Would you give me romance?”

I went back to bed.  As I got comfortable I heard a ping.  I was stubborn and didn’t move.  I woke up a few times again but never got out of bed until he was long passed signed out.  He’d replied to me.

With the last bit of heart I had left, I wrote him an email:

When we first got together you romanced me.  You did things that were so wonderful… surprises, flowers, showed me the city.
I’d thought that was always the intention to continue.  But you stopped.

I have remnants around my room of the romance that was once there… of that man who would do everything he could to be with me.  Of the guy who took me on adventures and places and shared so many fun times with me.

I went further into detail about a few other personal things and outlined exactly what I felt needed to be accomplished if we were ever going to get that “fresh start” again.

When Midnight broke, so did a piece of me.  I know that regardless the outcome though it will be alright.

“Do you love me?  Cinderella asked the Prince.

“Would you even believe me if I said yes?” he replied.

Perhaps time will tell.

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It’s just a prick…

The brightly colored large tacks that hold up my French prints have been falling off mysteriously.  I’m not sure as to why exactly.  They’ve been on the walls months.  It’s only been starting recently.

Perhaps gravity is setting in and the weight is pulling on them.

Perhaps it’s something else entirely.

But when another tack and picture fell he instinctively went to fix it.

My room is still in shambles from the Holiday activities.  You didn’t think that just because I’ve been off the radar meant I’d become a nun did you?

It had been a romantic evening.  Dinner and then a moonlit walk on the pier.  It hadn’t been completely perfect, but it was damn near that way.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.  After everything with Mr Parker.. of saying my goodbyes and throwing pennies to the air on New Years.

Polyamory.

Sometimes it’s.. not the greatest experience for my lovers, specifically for him.

We were about to lay in bed.  We looked up.  He noticed the line print fall.  It was the second one to fall this week.  He went to fix it.  I told him not to worry about it.  He was trying to be a gentleman.

Disastrous.

He fished around the clothes near the side of the bed looking for the brightly colored tack.  He didn’t find it.

He found something else.

That.

And there was a moment of silence as he picked it up off the floor and looked up at me.

“I always get up afterwards and go to the bathroom.”

I couln’t breathe.  For a moment there, despite my honesty, I was worried that I’d blown it.

“It’s probably from one of our multiple sessions.  I’m sure it’s nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”

He went to the bathroom and threw it away.  The silence was deafening.  I hung my head a little lower.

Please don’t tell me I ruined it.  Please don’t tell me I ruined it. Please don’t tell me..

I…

ruined…

it.

Fuck.

I did didn’t I?  God damnit.

To be continued…

day afters

I don’t regret this weekend. I probably should. But I don’t have a conscious. Or maybe I just don’t have a big enough heart.

Do I care about the grip? Without question. And he always knew this day was going to come. But when things heated up I didn’t know what to do. In the moment of “put up or shut up,” I went to what I knew best..

George Peppard: “I don’t want to put you in a cage, I just want to love you.”

Audrey: “Same thing.”

-Breakfast at Tiffanys

Maybe that point of monogamy was coming. Maybe I was getting closer to feeling less trapped.. I wanted things to go towards that happily ever after. I don’t think I’m as ready as I thought. My focus, had turned inwardly.

In the next coming weeks, there will be some blogs actually defining my experiences with polyamory, and how these relationships work and fail.

I’m not sure exactly if this one has failed. It would be my accord if it did.

Is there a such thing as cheating when you’re in an open relationship? I don’t understand, yet at the same time, I was stupid into not seeing this coming. So much for being open and discussing things.. about being honest with my actions, while having emotions attached.

I’m a bit lost. Do I feel my behavior was wrong? Yes and no. I made no promise of anything other than nothing. Day to day. I just wanted to let things happen. Perhaps I’m broken. Perhaps I’m not.

Honesty is the best policy? Communication is key?

Is it all bullshit?

I really hope that I haven’t lost him. I’m worried about him. I just am at a loss for words here.