The Beginning – The Relationship that Wasn't
So in the fall MrS and I go off to college. MrS's roomates are Rube, OrangeBoy, and 3 guys named John (not really but they did all have the same first name). OrangeBoy is only notable because down the road he cheated on his long-time girlfriend with my dormmate (and because his girlfriend happened to go to college with one of my best girl friends from HS she ended up finding out)...and for one other incident that will come out later in this tale. I moved into my dormroom, met my roommate, said goodbye to my parents and headed off to Rube and MrS's apartment to meet the rest of the boys. MrS resisted my sexual advances that first night (no worries, Rube “consoled” me on the couch).
Night number 2 MrS lost his bet with JB and...apparently my rules flew out the window. We blew through my “Rule of 3” in no time flat. Sorry to say we busted my suspenders-and-a-belt rule as well - if I can't be honest in my blog and admit my mistakes then I am not telling the whole story. (More on this later.)
I tease Dude that he is such a Uhaul lesbian, but essentially the same thing happened when I got together with MrS. That first semester I spent most nights with MrS, my dorm room was a place I kept my clothes and studied between classes or when MrS wasn't at the apartment (I did NOT have my own key). When PonyGirl or SweetPea would come up to visit I would visit with them during the day (and in the case of SweetPea we would play with MrS together - or with each other if he was off doing something else) but I would go back to my dormroom leaving him to them for the night (even though he said I didn't have to). Sometimes I would call one of the other boys I had on tap (unceremoniously referred to as “Dick-On-Call” by some of our friends).
At some point during this phase Rube said something to MrS that triggered one of my quotable quotes that gets repeated frequently in jest. Rube and the rest of the guys are hanging out having a general bitch-session and Rube says something to MrS about “...your girlfriend...”. MrS looks confused and I glance up from whatever book I have my nose in, look puzzled, and comment “MrS doesn't have a girlfriend! I would know...I'm here all the time.” Then I got all embarrassed because I realized that he meant ME...we 'set him straight.'
A few months passed and I found myself getting upset and agitated by things that would not have EVER bothered me in the past. I actually started keeping a journal around this time (something I don't generally do) to vent some of the confusing feelings I found myself having. One night we were at a party and my dormmate happened to be there with us and wanted to leave early. MrS offered to walk her back to the dorm. (ALL of the boys in our group of friends were incredibly attentive to making sure that we girls never had to walk across campus after dark alone – there were incidents all of the time on such a huge campus.) They ended up stopping at a pool hall and hanging out for a few hours – I actually got back to our dormroom before she did (Rube brought me home). When she got back to the room she disclosed that she was upset because she found herself attracted to MrS and had come the closest she had ever come to being tempted to cheat on her long time boyfriend. I said something vague like “Oh, really?” but inside I was seething with...?
Well, that is an interesting question. My journal entries from that time contain a lot of questions (”Am I developing FEELINGS for MrS?” “Am I feeling JEALOUS? - you don't even believe in that Jane” etc.) and express a lot of anger at myself for responses that I would have scoffed at had someone else been having them. At some point I talked about my conflict with a friend of mine (call her Gina). (Sidenote: Gina was my friend because we had independently picked PianoBoy to be our “first” for similar reasons – small world...). Basically, she said, after several weeks of hearing me whining that, if I didn't say something to MrS, then, as my friend, she would be compelled to. After protesting, I agreed that if I hadn't “said anything” by a certain point that she would press the issue.
After the allotted time Gina called me (at MrS's) and asked if we had had 'the conversation' yet. I admitted that we hadn't and she said that I needed to put him on the phone. I protested but complied. MrS takes the phone out in the hall while I have an anxiety induced meltdown in the bedroom. After a while (10 minutes? Seemed like hours on my end.) MrS comes to me and says “Is there something you need to talk to me about?” Oh, agony! I can't talk, I can't think, I can't breath. So I write something on a sheet of notebook paper, hand it to him and bury my head in the pillows. A minute passes...was that a chuckle? After an eternity passes he comes over to me and and lifts my head up ...he waits until I can't help but look him in the eyes and he says...”Yes.”
The burning question that I had asked? The question that had precipitated this whole juvenile charade?
“Do you care for me, at all?” Turns out...he did.
Me: poly bi female, in an "open-but-not-looking" Vee-plus with -
MrS: hetero polyflexible male, live-in husband (together 21+ yrs)
Dude: hetero poly male, live-in boyfriend (together 3 yrs) and MrS's best friend
Lotus: poly bi female, "it's complicated" relationships with Dude/JaneQ/MrS; married to TT, poly male
VV and MsJ: bi-women with male primaries, LTR LDR FWBs to JaneQ
My poly blogs on this site:
The Journey of JaneQSmythe
The Notebook of JaneQSmythe
Last edited by JaneQSmythe; 02-14-2012 at 12:35 AM.
Reason: ETA: a few more commas, some red