When I first met my husband he was dating someone else. Long distance, and not monogamously. I really liked him. He had a trip planned to visit her, out in LA.
I thought about this a lot, and wasn't particularly happy about it.
I never told him not to go, nor did I disparage her in any way. What I decided was that he would like me better. That I would be more fun, more interesting, more compelling.
Now, with N., my jealousy gets triggered in a whole new and exaggerated way... And what to do with it?
My friendship with N. is that-- a friendship. It has felt like the Holy Grail of friendship: balanced between true friends- accessible, interested, non judgmental- and having a deviant, dangerous, adventurous partner who pulls me out of my norm, pushes my boundaries, let's me be more than a MILF.
And he's safe too- I won't fall "in love" with him, nor he with me- so we get to check the emotional angst at the door. Really. It's remarkably cool. (And before the experience, I would have been skeptical too).
But now that we're not fucking? And his blog is ascendant?
He's attracting a veritable flock of women. They ask for his instructions, come in (on?) his voicemail, flood him with erotic material (most of which he's asked for. Slut).
His blog has afforded me a window into not only the depths of his past, but also the continuing flirtations and dates of his present. It's a strange and wondrous turn of events.
And I think about the many many photographs I have sent him, the stories I have read, and written, and yes, even the orgasms I have recorded.
I see myself in the women who respond, and wonder about us... Why it feels good to be given instructions, and to follow them. What it says about my desire, and my desire for approval.
I see his instructions, so similar to the ones I have followed, being taken up by other women. It hurts.
The stories of his dates, the women he is currently in contact with.. The ones he dreams of further contact with, wash me in jealousy.
But I keep reading.... But I keep reading (It needs to be said twice).
I get waxed every few weeks (I'm tidy, but not entirely bare, for your prurient interest). Once upon a time I dreaded the experience, took an aspirin before my appointment, and clutched myself tightly, girding myself for the next pull.
Now I actually look forward to it, embrace the sensation, breathe into it and feel it. It's good, and sometimes weirdly arousing. Truly.
The pain of jealousy is different, but similar. It happens, but if I keep breathing and embrace it, it also can be... Yeah, weirdly arousing.
And like the earlier situation with my husband, I see choices.
I have found an opportunity to examine myself in a way I never dreamed- I can watch my responses, and feel my sensations.
My husband and his long distance friend? Well, obviously, we got married... But that trip?
He came back early.