So yeah. I was a big girl today. I was brave.
I sent an e-mail. It wasn't long, but it was terrifying. The brunt of it; If your wife isn't okay with this, neither am I.
I want to meet my metamour before taking things any further than they have already gone. I want to talk to her. I'll bring conversation cards if I must. But I don't want to hurt another human being by continuing an emotional affair with their partner and not knowing whether they a) know b) are okay with it.
I was looking for couples, remember? Triads. This thing hit me in the head and caught me unawares. I didn't plan this. I want to date poly people, goddammit! I want to have threesomes! I'm pretty sure there will be too many limbs for my taste but I still want it! I don't want to be the person who has to ask them to tell their wife.
Yup, me, Miss 'Responsible Polyamory is My Middle-Name', and I'm scared shitless of my new metamour. She will probably read every single guilty thought I've ever had about their partner right on my face.
Why couldn't I stop things from escalating? I'm no idiot, I saw where this was going. Deep down I knew it wasn't just friendship.
Shit, I'm officially the Other Woman now.
Me: bi female in my twenties