I don't want to wake up. The dreams are so lovely that I recreate them again, wallowing and revelling in them, dreams of kisses, being held, touching a face. Dreams that turn hot, then sweet, then fiery, and then tender again.
Then I wake up, and I am here, alone, again.
Rebar told me several weeks ago that it wasn't fair to either of us for me to keep trying to be exclusive with him, but I didn't know what to say. What do you say? Ok?! I know that my being with other people hurts him. For several months before that I'd been cooling off my other relationships, trying not to cultivate too much of an expectation that there might be lovemaking at some future date. And feeling very guilty about it. It's not anybody else's fault I'm in this situation. It's not fair.
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. And I just kept on going, but these weeks...
These weeks the heat has been creeping back, and I've been letting it, I've been fanning it. I need it. Dreams and plans are forming.
The celibate life is not agreeing with me. Rebar was right. He's really not able to be a decent boyfriend to me. He apologizes all the time, eaten up with guilt. Sorry I can't make it today. Sorry I can't stay. And it's not fair to him, he's trying to put bread on the table. He's trying to take care of his family, and he feels horribly guilty for falling short in that too. So I say, it's ok, honey. It will pass.
But it's not ok. I'm on the verge of tears most of the time, and I swear I have to talk to him next time I see him, but when that time comes, it's so damned good to see him that I just can't bear it.
I'm all choked up now.
And I wonder if other people I care about think this is all about compensation, about substitution. I wonder if they think they are stand-ins. Oh god I hope not, because it isn't so. I do confess that I need them more though. I need their support and approval and affection more urgently now than if I felt all secure and happy.
This is fucked up. I was the way I am before we ever had lunch at Mulligan's the very first time. I was this way when he took me on. Why the fuck am I all guilty and miserable now?
Because we renegotiated. Because we broke up and the price of having him back was monogamy.
This is completely fucked.
One voice in my head says I should break up with him and set him free to have a life with somebody else or patch up his marriage or go back to being alone. My heart can't bear it.
We need to talk about this stuff, and I'm afraid to. It could be February all over again. That was a horrible, horrible time.
God dammit.
There is an innocent little kid voice in me that says, why are you doing this to yourself. Why are you doing this to him. You are making more of this than there has to be. Tell him about everything, and say you will be here when he needs you, but when he's not available you will be elsewhere, and do it. Let him be responsible for his own jealousy. Make it simple again. Release the baggage and be yourself.
The little kid is right. It can't get much worse. We are both miserable and we did this to ourselves.
