The several times I lost one of my ex’s, I always felt like I was going to die. It was so hard every time, even when I pretended it wasn’t. Even after I knew about all the cheating and all the shit he put me through, I still just wanted him. And I’d be lying if I said to this day I didn’t think about him and wish that he had been the man I had thought he was in the beginning.
When I lost my last boyfriend, we hadn’t been together all that long. Our relationship started fast and consumed us quickly and wholly. Including the girlfriend he already had that I ended up dating as well. And it hurt like hell to lose both of them, but him especially. I did care about her, but things were always different with her. I never felt like she was really trying to involve me and make what we had something special and real. Not that I could blame her, I don’t think I could have been the woman who took in her boyfriend’s new girlfriend and tried to love her, either. But I feel very keenly that loss, still to this day. Essentially, he was everything I was looking for. He was what I considered an ideal match. Let’s call him M.
M was tall. He was handsome. He was also a dom, and knew how to handle a paddle and just what to say and how to say it. He made me feel safe and cherished and loved and fulfilled. He had a job, and his 2 kids from his previous marriage were so fucking cute and sweet. He liked to have fun, he liked to show me off, and he liked to let me be me.
But M had a girlfriend I didn’t know about when we first met and got involved. And M never told me he was polyamorous until it was too late and finding out about another woman hurt my feelings. But he managed to talk to her and get her to agree to take me in to their relationship and make it one that we were all in equally. And it could have worked, if things had gone a little differently. But she couldn’t handle it, and I couldn’t stand hurting this poor innocent girl who’d done nothing but happily sacrifice and try to do whatever it took to make the man she loved happy. So I left, leaving him angry at me for “not trying” and her probably secretly relieved, though I never got her to admit to as much.
They’re happy, though, I guess. I had a dream about them, and got curious and checked out their Facebooks and they seem to be just as much in love as when I found and left them.
And now, I’m having issues finding a man to spend any kind of time with, even if it’s just a date to get lunch or coffee. Because I’ve tasted what I want, and now I don’t want to settle for less. But it turns out there aren’t that many men out there that I find attractive and have a dom style that I enjoy. And let’s not forget I’m pregnant, and there aren’t many men out there who will happily deal with a newborn that isn’t even theirs.
This pregnancy has me dreaming nightly of people I know or have known, and a lot of dreams revolve around exs. And it’s been making me think of all the loves I’ve lost and the things I’ve learned from each relationship and it’s respective ending. I know what I don’t want in a relationship, and what I definitely don’t need. But my wants are proving hard orders to fill. But I owe it to my child as much as to myself to do what makes me happy, and not settle ever again.