Trials and tribulations of Polyamory Pt 2

One of the problems with making it up as you go is that you sometimes have to break a rule to make a rule. According to the Ethical Slut, this is a natural part of navigating an open relationship. As human beings, it seems only natural that we can't *always* know *exactly* what we want at any given time. What seems okay on Monday could lead to the tragic downfall of a relationship come Thursday. Having broken a few rules before I knew they were rules, I've come to believe that confusion and restlessness are a natural part of figuring this shit out. Regardless, I've given myself a severe emotional beating after each slip-up.

The most pathetic part of a slip-up is that, after the fact, I realize how easy it should have been to avoid. My mother gave me such good advice throughout my teenage years. She never said "just say NO," because that would have been passe, but I do wish she had provided me with a series of sample situations in which "NO" was the appropriate response. Having not been given these examples in my youth (and not wanting to place blame on my mother), I'll give an example here:

Someone gives you honey eyes in a library/bar/video store. You're not immediately drawn to this person, but you like the feeling of being looked at. You like being wanted, and it is this feeling that drives you. For this feeling to continue, you offer honey eyes in return. When eye contact is not enough, you move to conversation. When talk is not enough, you seek out intimacy. When intimacy is through, you are either satisfied or hungry for more; empty or full. Sometimes (to your perplexity) you are both.

This is how I felt when I fucked the honey-eyed boy from the bar. I never wanted him, but he wanted me, and that was enough. Well after 2am, I slipped back into my clothes and left. I drove home, my head still fuzzy from too much pot and one too many drinks, and climbed into bed beside my partner. I burrowed quietly under the covers, as not to wake him, but the sight of him sleeping so soundly made me feel sick. Though we had never clearly defined our "off limits" intimacies, I knew I had crossed a line.

Again, the most pathetic part of this slip-up was its easy "avoidability." The date was easy and enjoyable and the conversation kept my attention; this should have been enough. A handshake, a hug, and back home. When he stuck his tongue in my mouth, I knew that I was riding a slippery downhill slope. First, the kiss was terrible. Second, he immediately pushed me down, climbed on top of me, and started grinding his crotch all up in my business. I knew that every minute of this encounter was going to be aggressive, sloppy, and rushed. And worse yet, I knew that I would do nothing to stop it.

What's the saying? Just another notch off the ol' belt? Just another check off the mental "Oops, I did it again and I don't feel any better for it" chart...