I feel as if I am standing at a crossroads right now. I have a wonderful man named David Berube. He loves me. He, usually, understands me and honors where I have been. We have had some issues, and once or twice I have been stung pretty deeply, but that happens in relationships.
We don’t live near one another. As a matter of fact, we are almost as far away from each other as we possibly can be and still be in the continental United States. I am in the Bay, and he is in NYC. Based on both of our ways of being, based on being real about how we operate in the world, and being real about distance, we have decided to have an open relationship.
Now, in general, I am a very sexually liberated person….at least I thought I was. But when you throw love in the mix, and then when you add a history that does not include basically any healthy relationships, and then when you add to that a core belief that revolves around abandonment and loss of love, and you have a mix that is crazy making.
Oh did I mention that one of my gifts/curses from having grown up basically getting my ass beaten on a daily basis is that I absolutely know when someone is lying and/or is being less than truthful (even when it is not malicious). So I can probably pinpoint with laser precision accuracy when David is planning on getting some play…and even though it is totally acceptable, even though I know without a doubt he loves all of me, even though I know that it is possible to separate sex from emotions, even though I know that that we are 3,000 miles apart he spends a good chunk of his day thinking about me, communicating with me, and loving me in multiple ways…the thought of him with someone else makes me want to scream. My heart aches when I know it is going on. And this is all my shit that I have to carry, live with, learn to deal with, and learn to let go without making David’s life crazy.
God help me and everyone around me.
One of the ways I deal with what I am feeling is to externalize those thoughts and feelings. Poor David that one of the things my blog readers live for is to read about my internal crazy. To my credit, I am doing the best I can with the history I have. Part of the problem is that I have no patience with myself. When there is a disconnect between what I feel and what I believe, and I am unable to immediately and actually bring what I feel and what I believe into alignment, I go down some pretty self-destructive paths. No one in the world is as self-critical and self-flagellating as I am when I get into this place.
The fact is that I love David Berube. I love him in a stupid way that I did not know was possible for me. I love him for who he is, for what he brings to the world through his art, and for loving me. Does he have flaws, yep. Are things always good? Nope. Do I process like a lesbian and is he such a stereotypically gay man that sometimes I just don’t understand how to work through issues with him. Oh. Goodness. Yes.
In the past, I would have run away so far and so fast you would have that the Flash passed by. But I can’t run from David. He is the first thing I think about in the morning. I dream about him at night. And I think about him before I go to bed. I am standing at a crossroads that I have never seen before. I have no experience to lead me or guide me. I am confused. I am scared. I have a great man by whom I would like to not only do right but do righteously by. All I can keep doing is walking the path and make my choices based on what I feel for him and not the hurt and fear that is so comfortable.