I am a controlling boyfriend.
No, I am not a male, nor do I have a girlfriend to abuse. But I am the crazy stalker controlling boyfriend.
I've been noticing a trend, one I touched on the other day in a status. I am free with my boy -- make out at Rocky, browse activities at play parties -- but am extremely jealous and possessive of my girls, when I have one. Or even in my present case of not having one (waiting on someone to make up her mind, or wrap her head around the poly issue), I still don't want her seeing anyone else in the meantime. :harrumph:
People new to poly often question "how do you handle the jealousy??" It's funny, I don't get jealous when I have both partners in my bed, or in my arms. I get jealous when outsiders are flirtatious or showing interest. It's also funny, I get more upset when people flirt with my boy not knowing he's with me than when they are aware of our situation. I don't get it either; just a quirk of mine. I have gotten very ****** at random guys in the club ogling my girlfriend, even though they had no idea she was my girlfriend, and probably would've ogled more if they knew we were together.
Perhaps my nonchalance with my boy is merely grown out of our time together. It's been six and a half years, and no one has managed to break us up -- though some have tried. But out of all that we've become stronger together.
Maybe it's the fear in me, that finding a third partner is so difficult to begin with. Believe me, a patient person I am not. And for a unicorn, there's a far higher risk that someone else will charm her away from me/us.
And it's not limited to the present, either. I had this same issue well over a year ago with another girl. Of course, J was a selfish and inconsiderate person who would make plans with her friends (acceptable), but not bother to tell us until she was dressed to go out (unacceptable). When did you plan on telling us?? K may be the most considerate person I've ever met, so that's not her way at all.
But my realization that I've had these feelings of jealousy and possessiveness before filled me with such self-disgust; I've become my own controlling high school boyfriend, who once told me, and I quote: "I like when you wear pants [over skirts] because when you wear pants, at least you can tell you have no ***." 1. I'd like to see you tell me I have no *** now. ;) 2. ***??
I'm also uncertain if the possessive feelings would be made better or worse as I grow as a dominant. K is the first girl I've ever considered taking on as a sub in addition to as a partner, though she's not aware that's been on my mind. That was not part of the conversation at all yet, I could just see her fitting very nicely on my knee. ;) Even if we weren't to add her to our relationship, were I to ever see anyone else topping her at a party, I would be livid. And if she were to become my girlfriend and my submissive, you bet your sweet *** everyone would be asking my permission before playing at any functions.
Obviously I have some things to work on.
Firstly, finding our unicorn.

What is giving? In a relationship sense, giving goes beyond basic human consideration or being a good roommate. Beyond taking someone else's plate when they've finished dinner, or hanging up his or her jackets when they've dropped it on the floor. It's sharing thoughts, and feelings, and being genuinely interested in hearing another's. It's surprising someone with a key lime pie. Or finally going to the stupid guy movie because, though not a fan of guy movies, his company will be more enjoyable than the movie will be unenjoyable. Giving is, even though you don't really want to go for a walk down to the park, it will make her happy. Giving is putting another's happiness before your own, because causing them joy brings you joy. Just as causing them pain brings you pain. Giving is also being grateful, and acknowledging, when someone has done a household chore you weren't looking forward to doing. And saying thank you every single time someone drops you off for work, every day. Giving is finding a safer spot for your significant other's prized possessions -- antique works of Shakespeare, or reptiles. It's having someone's clothes packed for an emergency trip before they can even ask. Giving is a dozen attempts to hang the TV properly. Giving is being willing to run around Disney with her and her crazy sister, 21 and 15 respectively, for a princess and pirate party. Giving is sitting on the trunk of your car at 2:30 in the morning cause you read she was crying on her kitchen floor with no where to sleep, debating on telling her you're outside if she wants to talk (albeit a little stalkerish). Giving is trying melatonin, with little hope of it working, cause you know she loves you and worries about Tylenol PM. Giving is nagging her (them) to go to bed after she's (they've) fallen asleep on the couch, to the point of frustration, but you just want her (them) to be more comfortable in the bed. It's also knowing that being asleep on the couch, near you, is sometimes more important than being in the comfy bed, away from you. Giving is the harder stuff too, taking is too easy. Giving is sometimes realizing that yes, you do need to stew for a bit. But anything more than an hour is detrimental to fixing the problem. And sometimes you also need to yell (10 minutes, TOPS). Then you act like an adult and deal with it. Sometimes giving is telling yourself you're overreacting, to take a deep breath, and go get a kiss instead of continuing to stew. And sometimes it's swallowing the lump in your throat and saying, "I'm struggling." Or "this has been bothering me," or "I'm sorry." Giving is also adding to "I'm sorry," "this is how I'll try to be better." Giving is accepting certain things, or people, for what or who they are. Giving is indeed standing strong and saying, "you picked me, this is who I am," because no one can change you, but realizing that some suggestions of change are for the better. Giving may also mean coming to the end of your nagging and saying, "that change will come when he/she is ready to," making it that much sweeter. Giving is not "I'm going to do what I want, when I want." Giving is realizing someone is depending on you, or thinking about you, or holding dinner for you. Giving is knowing that someone just needs to see your face to feel better, so you put on the sweetest, most comforting, most supportive expression for when they do. Giving is sharing your plans, for 10 years from now, for next summer, and for this evening. And to speak about those plans in an inclusive manner, like you can see that person there with you.

You cannot fathom the dizzying elation I felt when your lips touched mine, brief though it was, drunk though I was
Instantly sober, the electric shock
Sizzled
Light in my chest
Whispered "Did that happen?"
Breathe into my mouth, and I into yours
As you test, taste, tenderly
Tenderly, oh yes, hands slide up through your hair to cradle your skull
Gently, gently pulling back, my lips dance across your dancing pulse
Restraining myself, you are innocent
Teeth nip, your breath catching in my ear
You clutch me, unsure
Do what you like
Take the lead, explore
Or follow me, and do as I do
You know this dance, at least the steps
Hips moving, searching
At least the ache is similar
Similar but new, racing faster through your body
A moment of uncertainty, and I take your mouth to mine again
Lay your hand upon my heart, calm now love
Timidly, heart becomes breast
Beneath your palm
Explore away, love, not so different, yes?
Fingers roam, new planes and rises to discover
I inhale your scent, that is so very you
Dizzy
Would it help, to have a more familiar partner?
"I know this song, these steps"
He is waiting in the wings, if your desire is balance, old to new
Or do you favor a private instruction?
One-two-three...
Find the rhythm, the beat is there, under your skin
Glide upon it, upon me, into me, under me
Palm to palm, lip to lip, hip to hip
Listen to your breathing, revel in the new sound
Bodies roll, pleasures roll
Keep in time, savor it, love
Sensations swell, crescendo
Tempo in your veins slows as the music fades...
Shall we dance?

You claim a fortress you've built of yourself
To guard you from feeling anything
Why the need?
We've all been hurt, even us two, and yet we still let people in
Let you in
You say the ache creeps in anyway
Until you focus on anything else and it fades
You don't need to salve the ache yourself
Admittedly the tendrils of feeling are seductive indeed
You said yourself, hold on love
Let us sit in the stars with you, and disperse the chill in your bones
Take us to your cabin all alone, together
We are not the malicious, mocking, twisting agony from you
We will never extract from your veins
The poison of your pain
For us to drink later, and make ourselves feel powerful
We only lift, and cradle, and cocoon
We never step aside, laughing at your failure,
Yourself shattered into a thousand pieces on the pavement
Why the fortress?
Be an openness
Reveal to us, your fears, your questions, and dreams and we will give you calm
Fight your demons
Rejoice your triumphs
Not for you, but with you
Are you truly better alone?

Always scanning
Always searching
Every face
Every glimmer of red hair
It's a weakness, that red hair, she said
With a self-deprecating smile
Are you her?
The one we've been looking for
The one to complete us
A three-part us
So many criteria
Chemistry
Values
Maturity
But most important,
Belonging
So much longing
To have hands as full as my heart
Am I ignoring the possibles?
Am I looking too hard,
Trying too hard
To force something out of nothing?
Gaining nothing but
Another gaping hole
Wounds to lick clean,
Scars to soothe
His and mine
Learning how to trust
Again

I used to be wild
Drunk on my own newly discovered sensuality--and on Drink
Lemon Drops, and Pink *****-Droppers, and *** on the Beach,
and any fruity (sickeningly) mixed (sweet) drink anyone would hand me--but "no coconut!"
Laughing at my friends who were settling down
"You're all getting married, I'm just getting more awesome!"
Feeling so supremely alive
Flaunting my youth and vibrance like an obscure merit badge earned in Girl Scouts
(who would never condone by behavior, by the by)
Thin paper-plastic wristbands with Sharpie dates scrawled on them, and a tagline my only reminder of the night's events
"St. Patty's day"
"Brothers' last night"
"Makeout contest"... yeesh
Whole evenings, and weeks are now a blur, fuzzy from the alcohol? or just the passage of time?
Passing a particular apartment "I think I've been there before, once" and I struggle to remember how that night unfolded
A smile alights my face as some of it comes back, but not all of it; "Did that also happen that night, or was that another time...?"

And then a shift, in power, in gaze
Higher status, higher responsibilities
Higher shoes, (less *****)
The nipping and yapping one another, wearing down a trench around me
A Mother hen mantle settles on my shoulders (at least it's feathered)
And a jaded lens clouds my vision, sadly
My words about others, though never heard, would burn
Arrogant, downright Cruel, for a while
sigh
1am, that's enough for tonight
I'm tired
My bones hurt
I open tomorrow
The feathers are soft, yes, and choking
I look around, "What am I doing here?"
Ten percent of the people here make it worth my while
the rest...
Glitter cuts and scrapes my eyeballs, and I will wear the last vestiges to work tomorrow, no matter how hard I try
To rid myself of the testament to my night life

I want to do more
To Dance more, not police more
To allow more to explore more, and not to judge more
Everyone is worthwhile, and has something to offer
No longer compelled to define myself by the things that I do, or shove my newly-acquired identity in someone's face as means of introduction
To root out the real things that make me feel alive
And truth be told
I want to garden
laughs
I've never wanted to garden before
Wine and cheese with close friends, an adventure-date with my beloved
I'm alive because I'm living
Not because I've been going shot-for-shot for two hours with my best friend
But it's time for the next move
Whether you call it getting old, or settling down, or just "settling"
I call it settling in
To a cozy life I love, filled with only the people and things I love
Anything less, that's "settling"

"Write hard and clear about what hurts." -- Ernest Hemingway

It hurts that my grandmother might not be around for my wedding
It hurts that my grandfather may be, but may not remember it
It hurts that I live so far my from people I love
It hurts knowing they will hurt when I tell them I want to move clear across the country
It hurts that I am stuck here, facing people I would rather avoid
It hurts that a place I called home has turned on me
It hurts more that I may be imagining they have turned on me
It hurts to think I may have disappointed the first person to give me a chance
It hurts that people I once called friends will speak so bitterly about me
It hurts that, ten months later, I so strongly miss someone who melds perfectly with us
It hurts that she would rather run than even attempt to see what it's like
It hurts that she may act so calm, as if nothing happened
It hurts that her facade is so strong, while mine crumbles at the sight of her
It hurts that the longer we go on, the more we risk becoming "that creepy older couple"
It hurts that it hurts him, when I still speak of wanting another
It hurts that I would not be complete without one or the other
It hurts that so many friends are married, and growing families
It hurts that I will have to defend my own choices in growing mine
It hurts that I must defend my family to my family
It hurts that so many people work the job that pays the bills, and the job they really love
It hurts that the job I love must be revealed strategically
It hurts that who I am must be revealed strategically
It hurts anticipating the hurt that will come from that judgement
It hurts when I try to broaden my horizons, and I can see the hurt in my best friend's eyes
It hurts watching people not fulfill their full potential
It hurts watching people work so hard, but still gain so little
It hurts working so hard in my job, becoming so tired that my joy, my passion falls by the wayside
It hurts that we work so hard for things that do not truly comfort us
It hurts that we take so little for granted
It hurts that we take so many for granted

Last night as I lay thinking of monsters under my bed...

                                                              creeping
                                              crawling               crouching
                                 clawing                                         clamoring
                       crushing                                                             crunching
             cracking                                                                                 
        clutching
     clasping
   clipping
   cutting
   cleaving
        crowing
              craving
                      craven
                              cringing                                              cowering
                                                            crying

... there are a lot of monstrous words that begin with C.

You miss us
We inspire you
As do you inspire us
You respect us,
And likewise, we respect you

If it were either one of us,
You'd take the chance
Together are we so intimidating?
We are ready and waiting to help
You take that leap, we will be your wings
On either side

We put our trust in you
To not hurt us
Ready to accept your trust
To not damage you either
The last thing we could ever want

Baby steps
I don't want the moon and stars from you
But a little companionship
And conversation

Any response...

Tell me inconsequential things
Tell me monumental things
Tell me all the in-between things
I want to know you more

I wonder if you talk to your friends of us
This crazy couple who wants you so desperately
Only desperate not to ignore a magnetism so full of potential
How can you deny yourself this?
But no, you wouldn't gossip
You're too private, and respectful for that
Just another of your fine qualities we admire

Detached, floating above the world
In your uncertainty
I would tell you how I've missed you
If I thought you were staying
But I'll not waste my breath if you're walking out again

You still cross my mind more often than I'd like
Like today
I want to cry
for want of you

It makes my heart squeeze
Have you been warm enough
these past cold nights?
Or have you been driving, always driving
in your longed-for leather jacket?
Does your subconscious [heart] ever turn the wheel toward us?

Then I think of who may have kept you warm
That makes me flush with anger
and a bitter taste fills my mouth

with the metallic twinge of blood
I spit out your name

It is not my care anymore
How warm
Who warms
You
Are
Not
My
Concern
[Care]
[Possibility]
[Hope]
Anymore

the next day

Time
it flows
Today I am more distant
I know I should give up on you
You are not as magnificent as I thought you were
even Yesterday
Or you wouldn't have hurt me
us
you
so
Yes I know you must be hurting too
Or... at least I hope you do
Selfish thought but
I don't want to seem so trivial in your mind
though I wish I could make you trivial in mine
Then I might be able to
Move on
But today I know I should
We'll see if that happens

the day after that

You were never really mine
And Yet I feel you were stolen from me
By whom?
By him?
By them?
By you.
I know it's unhealthy
but still
I curl up in bed at night
And sigh
What some might think
Relaxed
but with a deep Sadness
All I can think is
"It was you tracing hearts on my back
with your fingertips"
Not the other way around
And I wonder if I'll ever feel your touch
Again

after three gin & tonics

I am an adult.
I will hold myself together when you walk in
I will not manically plead with your best friend
"why doesn't she want me??"
Fluctuating
Breaking down
Being mature
There is no reason
my
... discomfort
should bar you from fun.
Except I still want to break down
Typing this and putting a fake smile on my face
Like all is right
Going to **** the dance floor with
My heels
My pain
My tears

and later

I hate you
No
I hate me
In a voice more raw from
Smoke or emotion, I'm not sure
Wipe away your thin black tears
Go home
Don't be a sniveling *****

She wasn't meant for you

five days later

Silly, silly me
Thinking my Life empty without you in it
We spent more weeks Without you
Than with You
I hope you're happy
Wherever you are
And with whom
And with who you are
If ever you feel
A You might mesh with an Us,
Come find us
Until then, this pity party is over
Teardrop confetti dusting the Floor
Balloons, and Heartache, released [relieved] into the Atmosphere
My Life is full, even when my eyes couldn't see it through the Haze of my tears
Blessed be, dear one. <3

When he hurts you, I won't say I told you so
because it's not my job
to protect you
much as I want to
when he hurts you,
I won't say anything
because I won't be here

I hope you're not referencing us when you say
you "tried" a three-person relationship
darling you didn't even come close to a relationship with us
but then again,
I know how distant your "friendships" are
so I shouldn't be surprised
if you consider the brief time we had "trying"

It's been over a year since you said goodbye
we were good enough
better than all the rest, in fact
but still said goodbye

I should leave now,
run far away
but you'd still haunt me
with what-was' and what-ifs
like you do til this day

And just like magick, the merest glimpse of you will pull your memory across my mind,
I dreamt of you again last night
You walked in, and said "I'm here"
and were ready
Not sure,
but curious at least
And I tried so hard
to think of things to say
that would let you know
how much I've missed you,
and I'm so excited you're
willing to try,
and not scare you off
And you seem nervous,
but smilingly so,
and not at all poised to dart
For once believing more in the
possibilities than the certainties...

And then I wake up.
Not only have I slept in,
and it's terribly hot,
you're not there again
As I knew you wouldn't be.

I refuse to wipe myself clean
There is no starting over
There is no clean slate
Every experience, however unpleasant
Is a part of me

So I will not turn a blind eye
I will not delete the memories
I hurt, and I feel
And there is no running from the past
There is only turning the page

(This is the first installment of a two part piece; see next Together Again.)*
He pins me down
his gaze binding me more than any straps
My eyes skitter away until
crack
A fissure spiderwebs across my shell
Slowly the cleaving begins
A dull burn
Picking at scabs and old hurts
Layers I've grown over myself
are peeled away at his words
"Who gave you this one?"
"Why did you let them?"
"Who are you?"
"What do you want?"
"Who do you want to be?"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
Raw
Vulnerable
I strain to look away, run away, anything
But he makes me look
His look makes me look
At my insides
The queer pulsing of my wants and hopes,
seem almost foreign,
it's been so long since we've been acquainted
The wounds I thought would never heal,
or had finally healed,
or have almost healed
And there they are again, exposed
The tears burn, and I try to look instead
Inside my mind
Turn it off
They don't still hurt
They never did
They never meant much
But still they ache
It's darker in there, inside my mind
and if I stare too long, the darkness will creep again
Can't hide within
Can't look without
And a whimper escapes my throat
as I yearn for a salve, and a salvation

Tick tick tick
Plans set
Now I'm just waiting
Everything is just a filler
Tick tick tick
Waiting to move
Waiting to pack (ugh, the packing)
Waiting to explore
experience
explode
with life
Tick tick tick
Not even for another
no, not even that
Tick tick tick
And then I stop and think too long
and yes
still waiting for that too
sigh
Tick tick tick tick tick

I stand facing the dark
Cry out
Will I ever hear a real response?
Not just the wind
Throwing my own words
Back into my face?
A shiver
Where are the arms to wrap around me?

But wait
I'm not alone
My hand fitted to his
Our joint call is louder
Together