Drop The Bomb

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. It's the centerpiece of romantic comedy, the trigger of romantic tragedy, featured in every TV show and movie depicting two characters who fall head-over-heels for each other. I imagine it's largely because I've got new romantic interests in my life. I'm not the only one who's ever Googled it, though the answers should be plain enough. I'm talking, of course, about

Q: Is it too soon to say “I love you?”

A: You say “I love you” when you feel it's the right time.

And that changes the question to

Q: How do I know it's the right time to say “I love you?”

with the most obvious answer being

A: When you love them.

How do you know you love someone? How can you tell when NRE starts to fade? Is NRE, or “puppylove,” not real love? Who even decides what's real love? Why is it a faux pas to say it before the other person is ready?

I have this terrible, awful habit of falling in love fast and hard. Chances are, I have loved someone from afar long before words of a relationship or dating have been uttered. I love passively until I'm given permission to love actively. But, that ends up with me already in love, and kind of waiting for the other person to play catch-up. Not that I mind waiting, of course, I love love and I love being in love and I love sharing love. So I keep my lip zipped as long as possible. I don't want the object of my affection to feel pressured, as they do in movies, when I pronounce my feelings.

My extremely self-conscious approach to admitting my adoration seems to have caused an after-effect of guilt. I'm the sort of person who goes back and forth between ecstasy of a new lover to doubt and fear, as if my partner might suddenly realize they can do much better. I do, indeed, feel like the first time I tell someone that I love them, I'm stabbing them with a dagger, digging my claws in, and I realize that if I say it too soon, it may be a dealbreaker. That's a risk I take, I suppose.

Love opens me up and makes me vulnerable. I'm never more paranoid for the delicate stability of my heart and the heart of my lover and the heart of the relationship than at that pinnacle moment. I am shy to admit my love, like it's a bad habit, like it's an inconvenience, like a heavy weight.

I'm writing about this now because I feel these three words, three little bombs, sitting on the edge of my tongue, aimed at someone who has not yet heard them from me, and it's too soon. Too soon, I know. I'm met with a predicament. Either I prepare myself, and just say the words, or they slip out by accident. I've already caught myself several times, and this is not a nuke I want to drop by happenstance. It's very precious. And it's definitely too soon to expect the same. I don't, really, expect this person to return the words, probably not for a long while, and I'm okay with that. Just because I'm ready to say them doesn't mean they are.

I never understood why movies make a big deal about it—love happens and it doesn't always happen to everybody at the same exact moment. So what if they aren't ready to say it? If you love them, be patient, and keep loving them, and one day, they'll be ready.

Will I say the words? I don't know. How's this; I'll post this blog entry after I do say them. So you know I've admitted it, if you're reading, and you'll know I haven't tossed myself from a high building in shame.

Wish me luck.

Changes

Well, hello there, blog.

It's been a while, and that's my own damn fault, I know.

I needed some time to myself, and some time away from processing publicly. But, I'm back! Kinda! I can't promise I'll stay. But I can promise I'll try, and that's all you get.

I'm back and writing largely because a lot has changed. I'm not actively processing, because I tend to overthink and that may or may not make things worse. But as time goes on, I'm having little mini revelations, and not all of them are good.

I feel like, over the past year or so, I've grown and changed a lot. I'm stretching into my personality—Blue--getting more comfortable and accepting of the things that make me who I am. I've demanded that in no uncertain terms people either must accept me as I am, or not. I'm tired of hiding. It takes its toll on you, when you hold up a different mask for everybody. So I got rid of the masks. Most of them. I kept a few, and I'm sure we'll talk about that at some point, because it has to do with my depression.

What kind of things have changed? I'll try and explain.

1. I've had to accept things about myself.

In my life, things have happened to me, and I thought they were no big deal and I thought they didn't matter and I thought I didn't need to think about them ever again. But the truth is, a lot of things do affect me, and I need to face them and accept that they happened and they are a part of me. They are the reasons why I fear certain sex acts, the reasons why I feel like I have to give up what I want, the reasons why I am almost completely apathetic when someone is talking about their mother. I have triggers and I'm learning to notice them, to realize what sets me off, what pulls me down, and I'm learning to accept that it matters, and that even if someone else tells me it's silly and I should get over it, it still matters and their opinion of my thoughts, emotions and mental stability is irrelevant.

There were bigger, more important things I've had to accept, that other people have had to deal with as well. When Ark and I decided to be polyamorous, it was very difficult at first, but we worked through it and we're a stronger couple now than I could have ever hoped for. It was important for us to hit all this rocky ground and battle against the odds, because as I mentioned in my previous (very old) blog entry, I've more or less come out as lesbian. I learned that this is not always the end of a heterosexual marriage and I'm very, very glad it was not the end of ours. I love, want and need Ark in my life, and the ways we are growing are important to me. The new-old ways we're affectionate are more special to me than sex. Recently, I've been more “out” about my sexuality, though there are still certain family members who don't know, I'm sure a lot of them do. Maybe they don't understand my open hetero marriage and maybe they don't want to. That's okay. They're my family and I want to keep them, but like I said before, I can't keep myself in a little box and never come out.

2. I've needed more time to myself, which actually means...

I needed time away from Gabriel. The intensity of our early relationship is too much for me to handle long-term, and I am having a lot of trouble accepting that. Gabriel is a very intense person, and I can't ask her to change, but as it is, I often feel suffocated under her love for me. I want her to be happy, and I love her and, when I can handle it, I love being around her. When I can't handle it, I feel drained and grouchy. Words of commitment spook me; I have never been able to promise someone “forever.” I can't even begin to explain what a miracle it is that I married Ark. He is a truly amazing and unique person. That said, Gabriel regularly calls me her wife, and says she “married” me, etc, and this makes me very uncomfortable. It makes me want to escape, cut ties—I feel like I will never be able to give her what she wants and needs in a relationship. She needs monogamy. She needs someone who can give her all their time and all their love. I'm not prepared to give that—it isn't in my nature nor is it appealing to me in any way. I thought of a quote today that summed it up; “I may not be everything you could ever want or need, but I'll give you as much as I can.” What else can I give?

I'd really love for her to have friends outside of my social circle, and I'd love for her to find another girlfriend—someone who can be more full-time than me. She deserves that, she deserves happiness, but I cannot continue to give myself to her at sacrifice to my own sanity and well-being.

I've been taking time away—but it really looks like I'm drifting away, even to me. I don't want that. I still want to be a part of Gabriel's life, and I know she wants me to be (a bigger) part of hers. But can she handle only seeing me once a week, maybe once every other week, maybe once a month? Is it even fair to ask that? It may be what I need.

I feel like there's a lot of pressure when I'm in a relationship with someone who's monogamous. I go back and forth between saying I don't have a primary and I do—the truth is, I do have a primary, and that's Ark. My marriage and relationship to him are tantamount to any other relationships I may have. If a lover can't understand that and doesn't respect my marriage, I can't continue that relationship.

3. I've been taking time to myself.

This kinda goes with the previous statement, but it's different, and here's why. I've made friends, and it's wonderful. I finally feel like I'm surrounded with people I love again—my pack, my chosen family. The people I've met are amazing friends. They make me laugh and I so rarely feel alone anymore. I don't even know how to express that this is a huge big deal for me. It's so hard for me to make and maintain friendships (I've lived here for six years and only just recently made friends).

And old friendships are growing, in new and unexpected ways. A friend of Ark's from his old job, someone we usually saw once or twice a month, has turned into The Object of My Affection lately. I am totally addicted and feeling some heavy NRE with this girl. It's so funny, the way it happened, but well, maybe I'll explain that some other time. I don't want to wax puppylove over this girl and I know I will, if allowed. Which brings me to...

4. I've been dating.

Dating! Do you believe it? I don't. I've never been dating before. It's exciting and new and a little scary. I'm trying to get Ark to date, too (he needs a girlfriend who lives nearby). I had my first two dates (kinda) this week, and both were successful. I'm not going to tell you about them because they're private, and I don't have these peoples' permission to talk about them on my blog just yet.

5. Ark has been amazing.

AMAZING. You don't even know. I've had to lean on him a lot. The very, very bad bout of depression I had at the end of 2011 and the beginning of 2012 had to be a trial. He's not reacted adversely to my affections on anyone else—granted, I am very careful not to be overtly affectionate to anyone else where he's watching me. Being around Ark and someone I like still makes me nervous, because he has reacted poorly in the past, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that maybe, just maybe, all of that is in the past, and I'm elated (when I'm not paranoid still).

I said it before but I'll say it again, my husband is awesome and he has grown in so many ways, changed in so many ways, becoming more accepting and curious and loving and happy. It makes me love him even more (is that possible?!).

So, all in all, some stuff has been happening and it's been great. Mostly. I work, I eat, I sleep, I see friends, I see lovers, I try to balance the world with my personal needs. So, I'm not dead yet! Still very much alive and kicking. Apparently, I just needed to go to Panera and sit down and decide to write a blog article.