A lot of books and articles I read about polyamory make me feel estranged. Of course, there exist 50 shades of polyamory. However, I get a feeling that people who choose polyamory with deep emotional involvement are less visible.
Maybe I am wrong. Or maybe it is just easier to talk about it when there are no deep feelings involved? Or maybe emotional involvement creates a lot of mess in relationships and they simply do not work out very well?..
I hope that there is hope. Because I want the beauty of the connection of minds (which inevitably leads to the merging of bodies in some natural and graceful way). …
I was a small girl. Ten years old. I was supposed to forget everything that happened. “Go play with the other kids,” I was told, “and in a couple of weeks, maybe a few months, you’ll forget everything.”
Kids — they are carefree and forget easily. Resilient. Right? To all parents who think this — you are wrong. Ten-year-olds are more mature than we, parents, usually assume. …
Every day I want to break a law! I take my shower, put on makeup, dress up in my most appealing skirt, slip on high heels, take a coffee in a rush, grab the keys, and… get in my car, start the engine, and go! That’s the absurdity of my crime! I want to drive!!! With or without a reason, with a precise destination in mind or just a vague idea. A vague idea of spontaneity and freedom…
How far will I be able to go? The first check arrives at about 200m from home at the roundabout. What should I do? Here I can pretend to be on my way to do some grocery shopping — “Carrots, Sir! I need to buy carrots! Lots of them! I’m making carrot energy bars to help me keep myself on my toes. And zucchini! I love zucchini! Yes, I need a car, they are heavy.” At the next control, I will probably get in trouble… “Sir, they were out of zucchini! I need to go to the hypermarket, you know the one at the nearest shopping mall, just a few kilometers from here… I know it’s more than 1 km, but zucchini!.. I am sure they have them! I can’t eat rice and pasta anymore, I need to stay fit”. And it works. After all, the hypermarket is open, people still need to drive there because there are no houses around. It’s in the industrial zone. And then… I am on a highway! Woohoo! I am already a criminal! A healthy criminal driving to the deserted beach in my own car, respecting speed limits. Or? Who cares about speed limits if anyway I’m already a criminal! …
He was tempted and pushed open the door.
He had pushed hoping as one who would pull a lottery ticket dreaming to win a million but knowing that it was an insane expectation… She was playing the game with him. Teasing, provoking, finding joy in it. The game they played as adolescents, yet feeling themselves very mature to stop at any moment without crossing the line. The line of reason.
That big, massive wooden door was there to separate strangers on the streets from the stairwells that lead to many intimate worlds locked behind other smaller doors. The door succumbed, though with hesitation, and moved a little, testing the couple’s spirit of adventure. For a while she was not smiling nor breathing. He looked dazzled and smiled at her invitingly, then pushed the door slowly and took her hand to follow him. She was a reasonable woman and she knew that she would not accept any indecency and he would never insist on anything that she would be uncomfortable with. …
He pulls out the handle of his suitcase, grabs a coat from the hall tree at the entrance, turns the key, opens the door, and carefully walks downstairs, watching every movement of his clean and joyful designer shoes.
He keeps his mind busy by counting every step. He tries not to think, to avoid being overwhelmed or jinxing the magic of the coming moment. That moment when he will get into the car with her and their new life begins. They will be free and together for three whole days. They both dreamt it, fought over it, and yearned for it so badly. He pulls his suitcase, making an enormous amount of noise that announces to the whole of Paris their approaching voyage. …
They longed for this day patiently to feel love with such an intensity and complete freedom.
It felt just heavenly and divine.
They stretched time before embracing. He took off her boots, slowly, thoughtfully, lovingly. Then sucked on her toes with the silky envelope of his lips while looking into her eyes intensely, knowing that everything that followed would be indelibly beautiful. They felt that endlessness of time entrusted to them. All that time to savor every second of it… with impatience and deliberate slowness…
She crawled backwards on the splendidly white cushy sheets, stretching her foot for his caresses in his soft loving hands, while he advanced closer… She arched and moaned, welcoming him into her sacred insides. He moved in smoothly, slowly, exploring every crevice, touching and feeling her every cell’s heat, pausing to absorb the intensity of each moment and prepare for heavenly…
Opening a relationship is a mutual agreement, which feels more or less like a natural evolution for some couples. But not always. What might be desired or necessary for one partner could appear shocking to another. After years spent together in a loving, attentive, and caring relationship, hearing that “you are not enough” can feel like you’ve failed and been betrayed by the one you’ve cherished and trusted the most until that moment. After years of unquestioning loyalty, your every belief in societal values is torn apart and thrown into a bottomless hole, with you falling in as well. It can be difficult to understand your partner and avoid building hatred and despair. …
We arrived at the cute little yellow house rather late, around 6pm. It was close to the village of Emma and Charles Bovary, but we’d only discover that 24 hours later, after number 4…
1. When arrived… Before cooking… Sure, dinner was late. We were standing in the middle of the room, holding each other… You were inside me. It was perfect. How is it even possible? Our bodies matched perfectly for this sensational feeling of having you inside and holding me in this grip, pressing against me, immersed in one longest fervent kiss. You were hooked to (and on) me. …
I love winters! The real ones, which are full of magic that comes from snow. Magic that sparkles in the sun and crunches underfoot. When air is filled with freshness and every breath brings joy. This joy is also clean and fresh, it does not have memories. These winters play melodies in major, in C major — simple, pure, and splendidly bright. All melancholy feelings are buried under a thick luminescent cover. River roars are hushed by deep ice. There is no restlessness, it freezes instantaneously and does not distort the triumphant slumber.
There are no such winters in France. Bears avoid its woods, where they would wander hungry and restless, exhausted from their insomnia during long gray days and nights. Bears. Those ingenious creatures who hibernate, ignoring the lifeless season. They just close their eyes and wait dreaming until everything awakens, emerges, blooms and hatches, until brooks murmur and rivers flood. But they need tranquility that comes from the magic of sparkling and crunchy snow. …
Maybe we went too far… I don’t know how to reply to questions anymore. I do not want to lie but I feel that what I am expected to say is not honest. I just do not want to give answers right now, I do not know them. I can’t promise to anyone nor myself that nothing-something-everything will change but I should remain trustworthy because it affects others. Because wrong premature conclusions could be made, wrong answers could be derived for me and hurt everyone around, including me. But I do not know my own answers. Not yet. …
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