Ladies, another honest post. This is the back story for last Friday and Saturday evenings.
Leading up to the only date I had in our open relationship was a trying experience with Ann.
Before our trip, Ann had a fairly decent rotation of lovers that she could call upon. I didn’t. In fact, I’d hardly been on a date over the previous year because I wasn’t interested in dating just for the sake of dating or getting laid.
This became somewhat problematic because we were in an open relationship, she could text someone and get laid… while I needed to actually go out and meet people, which isn’t one of my strengths.
Almost as soon as she was back to her normal life after our vacation together Ann exercised her rights in the open relationship. From later conversations, this encounter seemed to bother her emotionally but it wasn’t the last time she exercised those rights.
As she so humorously posted about, she even asked me about a possible MFM threesome a guy was trying to arrange for her in an unbalanced conversation.
It took me more than a month to find a prospect myself, we’ll call her Kathy. She was someone who I’d exchanged a few messages with before I took down my dating profiles and she’d just kind of disappeared after a few messages. After the trip with Ann, this chick popped back up.
In the interest of full disclosure, I told Ann about Kathy. I told her that Kathy was a chick that basically ghosted me a while ago, popped back up, and that I wasn’t particularly interested in her… but that I might go out with her just to break up the monotony.
Immediately, I could tell this was a problem for Ann. The open relationship seemed like a great idea to her… especially since I wasn’t all that active to begin with. It didn’t really occur to her that I might use my side of the open relationship.
The closer it got to my date with Kathy the more concerned Ann got. I tried to be as reassuring as possible, but I could tell she was getting worse and worse.
The day before the arranged date we had a bit of a blow up. Ok, I blew up basically, it really wasn’t pretty. I’d just gotten back from a long business trip, was extremely jet lagged, low blood sugar, exhausted, stressed… and Ann was out on a date. That’s when I did probably the worst possible thing; I drank a large amount of high-proof alcohol.
Normally, Ann going out on a date wouldn’t be an issue, but the way she responded to my texts made me feel like she was being purposefully vague. She had told me days previously that she had a date Friday night, but when I texted Friday night she just said she was “out”.
Ok… so I wrote back, somewhat jokingly and asked if she was busy. She wrote back, “So far all is going well. Perhaps we can chat tomorrow.”
At this point, I’ve already had a few too many drinks and her answers were pissing me off. If she was on a date, that was fine… but why wasn’t she saying that she was on a date? I felt like she was blowing me off, that she was with this dude, but for some reason didn’t want to tell me. She just kept saying that she was “out”.
That’s when my drunk mind decided that she didn’t want to admit she was on a date because she was freaked out by me going on a date the next night… She wouldn’t have grounds to complain about my date if she admitted that she was on one. I felt she was trying to be manipulative, trying to downplay her sexual activity to give her space to criticize mine.
I wrote a message talking about how freaked out my brain was and that I needed to get some time and space to figure things out. This was at 2 a.m. her time.
She immediately responded, which was clear evidence to my drunk mind that she had avoided talking about the date, fucked this guy, he left and she heard her phone. Why else would she be up at 2 a.m. on a Friday night after a date?
Every time we talked about me going on a date I felt so amazingly guilty, not because of the idea of sex outside the relationship but because even talking about me going out caused an almost physical pain to Ann. And there I was, totally convinced that she just gotten laid, is either lying about it or being misleading about it, and I had felt so guilty over even talking about getting coffee with another chick.
Fuck that. I bubbled over and sent a nasty, drunken, depressed ramble about how fucking tired I was of the double standard and I wasn’t going to be taken advantage of. She’s getting laid on a Friday night, I’m drunk and home alone… and I can’t even talk about going out for coffee? What the fuck?
The message, of course, wasn’t fair to Ann. She felt horrible, she was confused, and wrote a long painful message back… which I didn’t read until the next morning because I’d passed out.
The next morning, amazingly hung over, I read through all the messages from the night before and tried to piece together exactly what’d happened. Some of the things that I’d mentioned in the nasty message were actual concerns of mine but they were so blown out of proportion by the alcohol and circumstances.
It took a couple hours and dozens of messages back and forth before we kind of sorted everything out.
But the complications kept spinning out of control as we approached the time for my date.
We were chatting back and forth, she was obviously distressed over the date. She kept telling me that she wasn’t trying to be manipulative, but pain and discomfort saturated every word.
Then, shortly before the date she sent me a long, detailed email about how we should stop seeing other people and just focus on our relationship.
On chat she asked what I thought about it.
Really, Ann? Now? Right now? An hour before my date?
She’d had several opportunities to make use of our open relationship and had done so on at least two occasions. Hell, she blogged about almost getting laid by a Cop a few days after our vacation together. Then the whole MFM threesome conversation… and the very first time a possibility, a possibility is presented to me, she wants to talk about closing our relationship?
That really pissed me off. I had a really hard time not making an issue about it. I’d been so understanding, so supportive of her and her life, and I felt like she was trying to undercut mine before I even took the first step.
Ann had several lovers already, sure things, and she was so stressed over me going out on a date. Granted, I had already told her that if presented with an opportunity to get laid I would take it. We were in an open relationship, why wouldn’t I? So she knew that coffee could become something more, but it was by no means a sure thing. How many dates don’t end in sex?
How can she be totally fine with having her own sexually adventurous life and so amazingly hurt by even the possibility of me having a tiny bit of excitement in mine? MFM for her, cool. Coffee, maybe more for me, not cool. WTF?
I told her I would talk to her about the email in the morning and left for my date.