Love, Swinging & Poly – it’s mixed bag

What Love Is To Me – Part 1

It’s been a funny week so far. Maybe a couple of weeks… months… nope, let’s make it a year. There has been a lot on my mind regarding matters of the heart and sexy parts. I think it’s safe to say they are complicated topics and we all have our own roadmaps on how we want to navigate them and what we believe to be “true”.

I’ve wanted to write about these things for a long time and have been collecting my thoughts, sorting through some newer feelings (#heartbreaker) and revisiting previous beliefs. This part is about Love.

Misty has taught me a lot about love. It’s funny because s/he was never a fan of love, s/he always thought love was a trap. Love was something that made you weak, and made you subject to manipulations and not living a full and joyous life. I’ll never forget when she told me that – right after I had told her that I loved her for the first time. I felt punched in the gut, but then she told me how she did feel.

“I am so happy you are in my life. I feel so lucky that you found and picked me! I think you are amazing, funny and smart and have the sexiest mind I’ve ever met. I look forward to talking and texting with you each day, and when we get to spend time together I value it like the treasure it is. We don’t get enough time together. You make me smile and laugh. I lust you – I want to fuck, kiss, touch, lick and be with you all the time. It’s a terrible distraction. I imagine a future with you, adventuring and supporting each other’s goals and dreams. Love is not enough. You are so much more than loved. ”

I was teary as he held my hand, wiped my tears and looked into my eyes.

“That sounds an awful lot like love to me” I said smiling at him.

Since that time we’ve gone on to have many lively discussions about what love is and what it isn’t, where I cite literature and definitions and he brings up real life examples of shit “love”.

Eventually I won him over.

Love isn’t all those horrible things he thought it was. The wrong kind of “love” is more like Stockholm Syndrome. He described abuse.

Talking about it for years made me very clear on how I feel about love. And it was amazing to me that in every stage of our relationship Misty showed me through actions exactly what I believed healthy love to be, without even realizing it. S/he was my unwitting example to prove my theory/definition.

My definition of love is grounded in appreciation, gratitude, and respect.

I appreciate the person – the whole package. Quirks & imperfections are just as beautiful and cherished as all the amazing parts (I am thinking of a bunch of them and smiling to myself). I appreciate every experience that has made them who they are, and I adore hearing all the stories of his life, especially since I couldn’t be there. Somehow it’s like getting a front row seat. I appreciate the privilege to be trusted.

I am grateful for the time we get together. Time is so precious to me. I wrote somewhere in my archive that wished for more time, so much time I could feel wasteful with it. I never do feel like we waste it, every moment is gift. I’m grateful for his care and attention. He doesn’t have to spend his time with me. I don’t take that for granted. He has loads of friends, family, and his own kids that need his attention too. I never think that any of his time is mine. He spends it as he wishes, and I am filled with gratitude that some of that is with me.

I respect his thoughts, choices and actions. Even when I don’t necessarily agree with them. One of the things I appreciate about him is his ability to communicate well, so I have an understanding about why he’s doing what he’s doing, making the choices he’s making or thinking a certain way. I respect that we are separate people and have the freedom to act accordingly.

All the lust and kinky sex is wrapped up in those three values as well. It is interwoven into the whole mind/body package. Because to me, romantic love has that. Maybe not a passionate inferno aaaall the time, but attraction, yes.

My kind of love is also work. A joyful work, one that takes mindfulness and thoughtfulness. It’s not something you put on autopilot and coast. Say “I love you”, and cross the love finish line. No, it’s walking a path side by side, choosing to share the joy of every day living as well as our inner thoughts.

I like to think that my love is a good, quality love.

In part 2, I’m going to write about some of my thoughts & experience on swinging.

If you made it to the end of this ridiculously long post on my indulgent thoughts on love, thank you for reading. You’re awesome.❤️