“Don’t look at the full moon with her. It would break my heart.” I know it’s unreasonable so I never ask, but I wish I could. I know better though, I know the moon doesn’t belong to me, and neither does he. Standing under the moon is a different thing between any two people, I know this, but it feels like mine.
Never let her turn around and kiss you on the stairs the way I do.
Never let her write stories on the back of your neck with her fingernails after you fuck.
Never let her fall asleep on your shoulder, in the crook of your arm, the one that’s just the right shape for me to nestle against.
I know in my heart it’s not just for me, I know it’s human-shaped, not me-shaped, but let’s pretend okay? Let’s pretend you were built just for me. What a pretty little fantasy.Let’s pretend that there were rules that could protect us, that if we just stayed within the right boundaries this would never hurt. Let’s pretend we can legislate our feelings, follow the red tape, let’s pretend regulations and a page of things we Can Not Do would be simple, like a grocery list. You never look at the moon with her and I’ll never let anyone brush my hair out of my face when it’s messy. I’ll never let anyone kiss my baby toes or hide my face during movies at the scary parts. I’ll never slow dance in the kitchen with anyone but you.
Until I’m dancing, in a different kitchen, with someone who isn’t you. It’s a different dance, of course. They don’t hold me like you do, they’re cooking dinner and I touched them, it drew them to me, and next thing you know we were dancing. It doesn’t feel like a travesty or an invasion of our space, your space, my space with you. It feels like dancing in the kitchen with someone else. It’s wonderful in it’s own way, but different entirely.
That’s why it would be a silly rule; You can outlaw an activity but you can’t control the intimacy between two people, the way any arbitrary act can feel magical, the chemistry at play. These things are not compartments you can lock up or barricade, they are life experiences, lived moments. Building blocks to connections that neither you or I can predict. We have to trust in what we’ve built together, and all the unique ways we make each other happy. The moon is going to look amazing tonight, no matter whose hand you’re holding as you look towards the sky. And if there’s fireworks between two people, you wouldn’t need the moon to see them. We can feel how we feel, that’s the deal.
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I love the way HDLH writes about ethical non-monogamy, sooooo relatable. It’s why I suck at it. Why it punches me in the guts.
We enjoy sex with others (together), but I have no desire for another intimate connection. Not like Misty/boy-side does. If I were with another person looking at the moon, I’d be thinking of her/him. I would want to be with him/her… My time is so precious, I wouldn’t want to be spending it with someone else. I know Misty/boy-side feels differently. S/he sees beauty in just about everyone. One of the many things I love about her/him.
For a long while I felt broken, like I wasn’t a good poly person. But I just see it now like we do it differently. I am WAY more guarded. I don’ t let anyone else into my tender insides. Once bitten (ravaged and left for dead) twice shy. I’ m always friendly, and we have some lovely repeat play friends, but they do not get into my inner circle. It’s a rare thing.
But my love is a butterfly – who loves everyone, and craves connection with others. It is sweet, and sometimes painful. To feel that “you are not enough” statement like a heavy, wet blanket on the soul. Sometimes.