It's been a long time since I have spewed my emotional trauma over this blog.
In fact, those who have been with me from the start will notice that it has been a while since one of *those* Alistair posts. You'll remember them, though. The ones where my heart gets nailed to a wall and then spat upon.
The truth is that a lot of good stuff has happened during the past year, and I have always intended on expressing my warm, delicious satisfaction, but as so often happens, I spent my time enjoying the sensations, and enjoying the joy. I didn't have time to tell you about it. And now, I am returning to you with the usual usual.
I am predominantly monogomous. He is polyamorous. He needs to see other people, and I accept that. Things have been difficult in the past, because he has had a bit of a forked tongue. In other words, he has lied to me. Over recent months, his behaviour has been improving, and he has been much better. In fact, I am pretty damn sure there have been no lies.
All I have asked for is this: that he has the decency to tell me, and ask, when he is about to slut it around. Not much to ask.
The other thing relates to a particular form of play that is especially intimate to me. I wanted it to be kept between us alone. I knew this could not work for him. So I suggested that he ask my permission to indulge in it with others, and ideally, I choose whom he does it with, and occasionally pack him off to do so. He wasn't sure. Most forms of committment freak him out. He decided that he would think about it, and then come to speak to me. Until then, he said he would not indulge in it with anyone else.
I am at my mothers because he needed some time apart from me to play with other people.
I had even had a very nice evening, and went to bed happy and at peace.
At 2.31 am, I get a text telling me that his play partner had mentioned that she wanted to do this particular type of play to him, wondering what I thought. It woke me up, which made me irked. In my irked state I called him, he apologised and said he didn't actually think I would have woken up and seen the text. So I asked him, if I had not woken up, what he would have done. Would he have done it with her anyway? He said he didn't know. Possibly.
And in one foul swoop, he crushed me.
I got upset. He got angry. He said he felt he could not do anything right, and that he was trying to make me happy by telling me what was going on. He told me how he was feeling so comfortable with the relationship, and now we had taken a big step back. I cried, and hated myself for doing so.
I just don't understand how asking me if he could do something that is really important to me with someone else, and then potentially intending on doing it anyway, regardless of whether I managed to answer, is designed to make me happy.