That Time Pup Was Celibate For a Little Bit, Part One
It was late September and stuff with Pup was going pretty well. We got along with each other to a degree that we were able to just hang out and talk, and we had a degree of chemistry that also kind of made it impossible to just talk. Because his girlfriend had other partners, he was both used to seeing poly women and he understood perfectly his place in reference to Sir. He was super respectful of my relationship and we were having a great time so naturally something had to go wrong.
Pup and his girlfriend were having problems and they were – without laying out his dirty laundry on the Internet – of the wow-we-may-not-actually-be-compatible nature which is heavier/crazier/worse than the whole poly-isn’t-working problems. They broke up. Pup was, understandably, a mess.
There was the awkward issue of what that implied for us that I wasn’t sure how to bring up. I wanted him to take care of himself. I came over to try to talk about that, we ended up trying to mess around, and it ended absolutely horribly. It’s hard for me to write about my partners and portray them in a negative light to the peanut gallery of the Internet, but let’s say that the next day he left a letter at my place saying how he’d fucked up.
On my way to a party, I made a quick stop at his place and we talked through the whole thing. Pup wanted to be celibate for a little bit to avoid any more hiccups so, eventually, he could pick stuff back up without ruining it while he was dealing with this. I agreed, we hugged, and I felt much better about the whole thing.
Except we’re a couple of sluts, so…