The price of poly

With apologies to Oscar Wilde:

“To lose one partner may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose two seems like carelessness…”

Back in February, I wrote a blog post about my poly relationships – exploring, processing, as is sometimes my way here. And it was too raw for me to post; felt too much like tempting fate.

Well, fate was duly tempted. Within weeks, Cath had decided to move on. This past weekend, the wonderful Emma Jane and I had some of the bravest, kindest, most loving conversations a couple could ever have – and (entirely mutually) decided that our relationship needed to change too. We still love and care for one another as much as ever; but “boyfriend-girlfriend”, “partners” isn’t how it’s really meant to be. Much will stay the same – however, without the pressure of being a “couple”: rather than two people who love each other, and who relish the time they’ll spend together and the things they’ll do.

Anyway… time for that belated February post: the one I hoped never to publish, but always knew I would when the time came. Just, I can’t help being a bid sad that doing so came so soon…

The price of poly

Those of you who have blogs may relate to my current sentiment: that writing about issues, uncertainties that are nagging at you can prove to be a great way of processing one’s feelings. That’s what I’m doing here – and, actually, I’m not even sure I intend to post it right away, for reasons that may become obvious. And if you want to read about spanking, turn away now: it’s not core to the discussion.

Regular readers here will know that, aside from our kink, there’s another way in which Haron and I live what would be regarded by vanilla readers as an entirely unconventional life – that is, the polyamorous nature of our relationship. It’s not something we’ve ever explored here – other than in passing references to our other partners.

As I sit here now, I’m in the incredibly fortunate position of loving, and being loved in return, by three truly wonderful women – Haron, Cath and Emma Jane. “Love”, in this context, is not – for me – shorthand for “liking a lot” or “being very fond of”. It’s not a casual sign off to a card or note to a close friend – “with love”. I’m genuinely, completely in love with each of them. They’re different in so many ways, yet I adore all three, absolutely and unequivocally.

And, as I said, it’s not about spanking. We’ve progressed (in each pairing) to the point where play is almost incidental – although I love it when it happens, of course. It’s almost at times as though we’re so caught up in each other’s real, non-kink lives that kink takes a back seat – especially when we never have long enough together (hugs and sleep then taking priority, or the logistics of the events we’re attending), and when that time is inevitably rarely spent a deux. Actually, for a top with three partners, I sometimes seem to end up with relatively little opportunity to wield my trusty cane! And we’re way beyond the sometimes superficial public image that people try to portray in public, at parties and the like. They know my flaws; I know theirs.

Here’s the rub, though. Haron and I are married; we made that permanent commitment to one another many years ago, and it’s a template for relationships that that wider society can understand. And I can’t offer that permanence to either of the other girls; I can’t be that sole, devoted life partner that has eyes for them and them alone; I can’t fulfil all of their long-term aspirations.

I know that; they know that; we know that: we talk and share and trust. And I know too that I never, ever want to stand in the way of what’s right for them. That’s not self-sacrificing; their happiness, long-term, honestly outweighs any selfish personal needs.

More fundamentally, different criteria inevitably apply for a partner for life versus one taken for the shorter-term. Whilst they each seem happy for now to be in a relationship with me on a known-to-be-ultimately-temporary basis, I certainly don’t presume that I’d fit the bill for either of them for a long-term, permanent relationship – irrespective of any other factors. Indeed, I rather doubt either of them would have gone out with me in the first place, had I and they been single and had they been looking for Mr Long-Term Right.

So, despite the incredible joys of such wonderful (and very different) relationships, deep down there’s a sadness. For I know that my two girlfriends will move on. They’ll each find someone else – not necessarily Mr Right, but someone they want to focus their attentions on without the distractions of loving someone else. Or they’ll decide that the time they spend with me stands in the way of fulfilling their rightly-held life needs and dreams; I’ll become a distraction or an inconvenience, peripheral to how they really want and need to spend their precious evenings and weekends.

When the time comes with each of them, as it certainly will, I hope I’ll be brave. I intend to be – for them, as much as for myself: otherwise I could feel crushed. I pray that we’ll manage the transition from lovers to wonderful friends smoothly and successfully – and that we’ll cope with any (perhaps inevitable) blips en route as we try to adjust to the new nature of our our relationships, our non-partnerships. The ‘in love’ tap won’t be an easy one to simply and suddenly switch off. We avoid jealousy now – I hope we’ll avoid it then: me, them, their new partners when they appear. And I trust, pray that they’ll be kind and considerate when they do it – and in the tough weeks and months after.

But it’s tough, sometimes, to love whilst glancing forwards through the calendar wondering when things will change. Will our wonderful recent Valentine’s Day together be our last; will particular things we’ve planned together later in the year end up taking place as friends not lovers? And, worst of all, could I be the person in the way of their happiness?

The secret, it seems, is not to worry about the future uncertainties – the future inevitabilities. It’s to rejoice in the present. It’s to relish each moment with them. It’s to make my girls feel cared for, in whichever way that’s right for them (which is different in each case). It’s to delight in their love for me and mine for theirs; in the wonderful and amazing times that we spend together; in their beauty and generous good natures; it’s to live for the now, not to worry about the future. Even if I can’t help a certain, deep-down underlying sense of dismay at the thought of losing, giving up, what I cherish so dearly. Life will feel so very empty without them.