I send memes. I spam emojis. (Well, I do this normally, but there’s a lot more when I’m missing you.)
I tell them that I’d rather they be where I am.
I send photos of interesting things near me. I may even send a selfie.
02/13 "I Love You"
Bringing home a slice of your favorite cake.
Leaving weird shit on your bed.
Biting you.
Answering your call even though I still kinda hate phone calls.
Showing you this cool rock I found.
Making sure you’re staying hydrated and you have your glass of water nearby before we head to bed.
Hovering over you while you’re sick, insisting on feeding you herbal tea and soup.
Not worrying about the silence between us when it falls.
Feeling weird if I don’t kiss you goodnight.
02/27 "I’d Like to be Friends"
As I write that, I’m confusing it with "just being friendly." I find myself opening up a little and before I know it, I at least have a friendly acquaintance. How do I keep doing that? I should cut it out; I got Internet Street Cred to maintain.
…I’m joking. Are you on bookwyrm? The obvious: "Add me on Discord! / Here’s my Website! / Here’s a way to actually bypass my cryptid tendencies!"
Or, I seek you out instead of just holding up the wall.
And I say just say "fuck it" and reveal a little more of myself.
But the biggest thing? Being at peace with the fact that I may be hurt or disappointed. Revealing yourself is risky business, but that is how friendships happen.
Last night I was curled up in the couch corner for some quality reading time. My nesting partner came in from the cold, did his thing, and settled down not far from me to do some studying of his own. He put on Lo-Fi HipHop Beats to Study To, because that is how we roll around here.
We just vibed, enjoying each other’s company while doing our own thing. One of us would make a sound (him grumbling over Theory, me losing my shit reading Wind and Truth). Depending on how engrossed we were, we’d even respond to said sounds.
Living together. Existing together.
Eventually I hunkered down for a nap as the sun set, giving him one last look before I disappeared into the blanket nest to continue reading till I fell asleep.
"Hey! I love you!"
(a few seconds as it registers) "Oh! Love you too."
I thought to myself, "Oh, this is probably how Princess Carolyn felt." Content, assured in love, and is able to… get right back to work. Because she knows and feels it so deeply it can be summed up with a smile and a "Mm." And when we’re done with whatever we’re doing, we’ll be there for each other.
OH MY GLOB HE EVEN HAS A GUITAR TOO
I was also given a handmade zine from him that articulated this feeling better than I could. I keep it in my headboard; it’s good to have something tangible to remind you of the sorta-intangible at times.
Years and years ago– in the Before Times– I matched with someone on Hinge. We had a good chat. But I declined to progress further because I would have had to move to a voice memo service. “Who wants to install an app just to talk to one person?” I thought; “Besides, I am a texter. Also my phone only has 20 gigs and no space.” So that was the end of that.
Or was it?
Several years later– after the Before Times and solidly in the Current Times– I was trying out Yet Another Online Dating Thing: Facebook Dating. I matched with a few people, but most fizzled out. I did manage to at least trade phone numbers with another non-binary person and… I matched with this someone again. It wasn’t too much of a coincidence; we were both on Facebook and even in the same groups. But, eventually, that fizzled out too. So that was the end of that, right?
You know how I love doing things in threes; you know it isn’t.
Becoming exceedingly frustrated, I was taking my mind off the swiping and was (re)answering questions on OKCupid.[1] I even updated my profile a little bit. Then the boredom kicked in and I caught myself swiping. And there was that Someone in just a few swipes! For dramatic effect, let’s pretend that this didn’t happen over several days of bored swiping.
That’s it, I thought. One Time is Coincidence and Twice is a Pattern, potentially. Three times? I don’t know, but this is the point where I’m curious and brave enough to find out.
So I sent the first message. “We just keep running into each other, huh?” Or something worded to that effect; I am recalling from memory. I even mentioned our very first conversation together because– guess what, I even use their preferred service now![2] And despite a few hiccups in initial communication– from us not quite going the same speed on things, to me getting Pandemic’d— it appears to not be the end! We had one date at a coffeehouse, and we’ve been talking where we can, and we do have plans to hang out again once our lives settle down a bit more.
While there was the usual frustrations of online dating, I really had to sit with myself for a minute. I have a feeling my polysaturation[3] point is near. While in the process of scheduling another date (at this time of writing), I’m still riding off the fuzzy feelings of a very recent Cuddle Date on a potential partner’s couch. Between that, and making time for my current partners, and ensuring that I have enough Introvert Downtime to remain functioning– it’s becoming a lot.
So, the apps have been uninstalled and most profiles deactivated. Google Calendar, however, is getting a workout.
—
[1] In short, OKC is the one I keep coming back to. It allows me to filter out straight people (no offense, but full offense; y’all stress me out) and monogamous people (I’m doing y’all a favor; trust me). Also all those questions and percentages to gauge how you may jive with someone (just be sure to not depend solely on it).
[2] While I’m still primarily a texter, I’ve softened up considerably about voice memos. Quite a few of my people prefer them so I try to meet their needs. Voice memos are sometimes more convenient– and can be fun, too!
[3] Polysaturation is defined here as “the state in which a person doesn’t want or need more relationships than they currently have.” While polysaturation can be “satisfying or exhausting,” I’m feeling pretty content with my current setup. I’m also slowing my roll before it becomes exhausting for everyone involved.
And before you knew it, two seven months have passed by. I had no drafts or throwbacks to throw into the queue, so the silence lingered.
A bit has happened since then: we’ve moved to a bigger and better house, I received my vaccination (edit: and booster!), I saw folks I haven’t seen in the past year, saw my LDR girlfriend for the first time in about five years (long story, so that’ll be a separate post), I also reconnected with someone special (again, perhaps, a separate post), caught up with a dear old friend at a tiny birthday party… and the job has been the same, despite the promotion and raise that came with it.
I’ve been finally catching up on IDW’s Sonic the Hedgehog, and I can say– as someone that lived and breathed Archie Sonic (and SatAM, and Jaleel White’s VA career, and the games for someone who never owned a SEGA system) I’ve missed Sonic comics.
Also, come on. I love hedgehogs.
Ah, yes, and this wasn’t just any move: I wasn’t moving out of my parent’s house thrice (so I had practice), nor was I moving alone and only had me to worry about.
It was a lot of frustrating moving parts. Packing all the fragile things. Figuring out which perishables to take. Attempting to organize, only for it to fall into chaos in the garage. Misplaced boxes. Packing the mugs. Wrestling the cats. Losing power cords. Dropping a heavy box of board games on your foot.
But, again, we did it. And we hired movers for the big stuff this time.
My initial response is to say that said move was the most exciting thing to happen to me so far this year.
And here is where I re-calibrate my definition of “excitement,” because, sure, moving and painting are always exciting, but it takes a backseat to how I feel about some important people in my life. Moving and painting just made me tired. What got my heart beating was how we had all interacted– sharing podcasts, listening to Daft Punk, accidentally coming across A Wonk and getting bopped upside the head for it (figuratively).
Granted, this was Stuff I Already Knew after living with them for two years prior. But in the context of expanding into a new space it was exciting nonetheless.
I am happy at home.
But I am also tired.
As I brushed upon earlier, work has been… the same. But also, the strain of working in a pandemic for almost two years has been felt for quite some time now. The workload has been punishing, the pay is ridiculous, and many have been moving on to other pastures.
And I hope to be one of them, soon.
Because despite my aforementioned promotion, things have been largely the same and I have stagnated. Which could possibly be overlooked if I liked my job more… and if the pay was better… and if that one coworker would stop pissing all of us off… if the environment wasn’t so toxic… if there was actual upward mobility…
And the fatigue of being in this pandemic, as well. The misinformation, the tempers, the Trumpers, the just existing, the covid scares, all of it. I’m too tired to even elaborate on this but IYKYK. And all I know is there’s a therapist appointment in my immediate future.
Because of that, mostly, I haven’t been writing. Or doing much else. There’s been quite a bit of Youtube and Blanket Nesting.
At least Animal Crossing: New Horizons finally has some new content. I’ll go chew on that.
The thread began with the usual curiosity from a monogamous person: “can you truly find happiness with multiple people?” But it was a passing comment on a forum jarred me out of my browsing:
“Polyamory is such a fad.” Even without voice, I could feel the tone and implications I’m all too familiar with, now.
I know some people just aren’t geared for non-monogamy, and that is okay. But still, I could not let that go unchallenged. For in my experience, a “fad” is a snide comment for anything that gains popularity due to more people exploring and becoming aware of new possibilities.
My sexuality was “just a fad.”
My gender identity is “just a fad.”
And the newest fad, evidently, is polyamory. They say some things come in threes.
And their comments continued, to paraphrase: It’s nothing to take seriously, because it’s so easy. You’re just playing until you find that one person to be your everything. Until then, you can just go to the next person like they’re nothing.You’re not really happy. You can’t be.
And I definitely did not let that slide.
This is hard fucking work.
You have to constantly check in with yourself as you deprogram from monogamous habits and deal with blindspots, insecurities, and time management. You have to confront your bullshit. You have to unpack the how’s and why’s of what you’re feeling. That is hard enough on its own, but you also have to field the outside static of potential abuse. Discomfort may be growth, but to borrow from Eve Rickert: never ignore your pain.
That is, if you want to go about it as healthy and ethically as possible.
And none of this happens overnight. Especially if you had no role models to follow and had to make the same mistakes others have before you. Then make a few of your own as you adapt to your particular life.
I had to be horribly honest with myself. Even scarier, I had to be honest with others.
So, yeah, I’m a little touchy when someone disregards the hard work upon myself as a mere “fad.”
If anyone tells you that any form of non-monogamy is “a cakewalk,” they’re either in denial or trying to sell you something or they’re looking for a third.
Sure, I could pour myself into one single person but that wouldn’t be fulfilling to me and ultimately unfair for them to be My Everything for Possibly Forever. And that’s valid.
