I wrote a four-page long entry to post about a spot of real trouble for us. At first, I was hesitant to write it because it was very personal and involved other people and I wasn't sure I wanted to throw it all out there in great detail. Then, I told myself, “Look: you are blogging about being poly so that other people can read it and hear about how you got through your problems. They will want to hear about this! It may help someone, someday!”
So, I wrote it. It was lengthy and detailed and it dredged up all the negativity I felt when the problem arose. I had to walk away from it. I closed my netbook and didn't open it again for two weeks. When I re-read the file, I knew I couldn't finish it and that it would never see the Internet.
I'm sorry again, readers. I feel like this is some kind of failing on my part, but I really cannot put these feelings into words. Trying to write about it has proven to me that I'm still healing, still a little hurt and confused on the inside, and I'm just not ready.
The short version is that Ark broke a rule. It was an important rule that was there for everyone's safety and my sanity, but in the heat of the moment, he broke the rule. I felt betrayed, broken—and I was pissed off. I took the time to cool off and think about it and rationalize it, and I've done the best I could about it. I hugged Ark when I saw him for the first time after getting the news, and we sat down and talked about it quietly and civilly. We smoothed things out. We're okay.
But things are undeniably different. I still love him and I have no intention of letting this lie between us forever. Right now we're in a lull. We haven't had sex since the event and, while I want to make love, I feel like it should be something he earns.
So I gave him a project.
Ark cannot put his penis in me (read: in my mouth, vag, hands—anywhere) until he gets me off in some other way. This is apparently a daunting task for him as he's only tried once since I put it before him. He really doesn't know what to do. We've been together for like six years (forgive me—I am absolutely terrible with dates and anniversaries, which is why we were married on New Year's Eve) and he has yet to bring me to orgasm in any method besides intercourse—and, even then, always in the same position.
So, I'd like some variety—I'd like to teach my dog new tricks. I just wish… ya know… he'd try sometime.
But, between you and me, I really miss sex. Like, sex with a man. I guess I miss sex in general. The past couple of weeks, it's thin on the ground and thin in the air, and I don't get anything but solo play. Not that I don't enjoy masturbation.
-But, OH! Something terrible happened, y'all. I over-boiled my toy. I put it in the pot to boil and… I forgot about it. It no longer works. I feel like such a dumbass. I LOVED THAT TOY. It was cute and sexy and it was quiet and it looks great on my shelf and the vibe is smooth and perfect. Perfect. Ugh. I miss it, too.-
Back to the sex. Something positive that came out of the problem with Ark, no pun intended, is that he discovered that he is no longer bothered by the idea of me being sexually or emotionally involved with other men (or women). He's been opening up more—he enjoys going to drag shows, and I'm even teaching him proper labels. He was calling every butch a drag king. I'm proud of him in this respect. So, we are still growing… I hope we're growing together. We hit a hard bump in the road but we're recovering. Maybe soon I'll be ready to talk about it.