I’ve been putting off making this post because I always hate writing about the tough stuff.
Back in October and early November, Sir and I were having a little trouble. He was in the awkward position of being about to move but wanting to explore kink/poly stuff. And though I encouraged him, he kept snagging on the fact that he would be gone in a few months. To top things off, his other main partner had moved away.
As a result, there was a little bit of understandable bitterness. But, I ended up feeling awkward and evasive, like the problem wasn’t Sir’s own frustration with his situation but that I had somehow wronged him by being with other people. I felt guilty, and more than that, worried that he would become resentful from me and that this would ruin our relationship.
Instead of articulating this to him, I just started walking on eggshells and avoiding talking about poly. I hid behind excuses and tried to deflect away from the things I was doing for fear of upsetting him. I didn’t want to lose what I had, and so I just pretended I didn’t have it.
The tension came to a head the night when he was complaining to me about the dilemma of starting to like someone but feeling like everything was coming to an end too soon, and was therefore useless. Feeling guilty and anxious, I lied, said I was going to sleep, and went to Pup’s place instead to mess around. Instantly, I felt awful and, on my way home, called Sir to tell him what I had done and that I had been avoiding him because of my fear of having to choose between his happiness/security and non-monogamy.
“Okay,” Sir said. “Okay, we need to talk about this.”
And, finally, we did.