Shit certainly hit the fan when I fell in love with my taxi driver on the way to the airport. That’s how I met boyfriend number 4.
I’m joking. Although, I wouldn’t put it past me at this point.
Real talk, it was just a little kiss…
JOKING.
Everything shifted when I took off the rose colored glasses (and unexpectedly met a striking South African man). This loving lens I was gazing through that inevitably blinded me to a dark, more harsh reality. That some relationships we hold so dearly, know the potential, SEE the potential, don’t turn out like we think they will. That although Kyle and I were indeed, cosmically connected. Were we star-crossed lovers? Or were we simply friends? It was such a shock to my nervous system, being in my body as he walked out of the airport. Feeling anxious. Considering we had spent such a perfect romantic weekend in San Francisco a few months back, why now did my stomach and heart feel tense? Human beings are wildly complex in their emotions. At times, we often have no logical reasoning for feeling what we feel. However, feelings in themselves are validation enough.
The question is whether we are listening to that gut feeling or not. In that moment, at the airport, I went deaf. I couldn’t hear a thing. White noise.
Kyle and I dreamt of his arrival day and beyond. We had it all mapped out. Schedules, routines, sleep patterns, habits, fears, intimacy, and the overall excitement we both felt. We had plans to read together, do yoga together, explore the island, meditate, and co-create a magical life. We spoke about having a farm together, a conscious eco community of sorts, little blonde babies running wild. Countless talks about the magic of integrating our polycules (term for the connected network of people in non-monogamous relationships, think the web of a molecule) with one another perhaps in Zanzibar or elsewhere in the world. We dreamt big, bold, and courageously. ALAS, That’s not how life works. Ever. The pressure we put on our relationships and our life path to go one way and one way only… leads us to suffer. When we plan, we are not present. The masterful Zen Buddhist, Thích Nhat Hạnh says it best, “For things to reveal themselves to us, we need to be ready to abandon our views about them.” Dissolve our expectations in order to reveal the true essence. Ditch the plans and go with the flow baby.
Harsh truth?
That expectations are only an illusion. The future doesn’t exist yet! Take things day by day, moment to moment, and let them unfold as they are meant to. Unplanned.
That was, and continues to be, my biggest life lesson. Expectations are simply a masquerade. When you first begin a relationship with someone over the internet you have this ability, similar to social media, to quite literally filter yourself. Filter your words, expression, photos, and conversations. When you are upset, you can simply choose not to pick up the phone. In the hours you do interact or text back, you can more easily choose the sides of you that you want to be seen. The stories, check-in’s, and pillow talk seem a lot more romantic, rose colored, with the very limited time you have. The space and distance allows for you to be more selective with what you share about yourselves. While you may do your best to be you in all of your glory, there is only a certain level of depth you are able to go via online dating of a budding relationship.
The sole expectation of us working out was what allowed for this crazy story to be told, however it was blind to truth and the intricacy of the relationship. We got ahead of ourselves. We got excited. I certainly never expected to be dating 2 people at once, let alone 3.
You know that saying, don’t let loneliness drive you back to the arms of someone who isn’t right? It perfectly encapsulates the intricacy and delicacy of human emotion so well. Try to decipher loneliness from longing, can you? I kept thinking to myself, “am I just nervous?” or, “is my gut telling me this isn’t right?” God damn emotional turmoil.
We drove the sleepy, slightly awkward, 2 hours back home from the airport and dropped Kyle off at a nearby hotel to give him time to rest after his 30 hour journey from Chicago. I warned him early on about the jet lag and the culture shock. I was mentally equipped on his behalf to give him adequate time and space to acclimate, as I knew for me personally it took a month to feel somewhat normal. Right when Travis and I arrived home I expressed to him how I was feeling about Kyle, this sense of something being “off”. He assured me this was all so new and to relax and give it some time. He was right. I did need to give it some time. I felt supported and reassured that no matter what, everything would be okay. For no matter what, I had him and Richard by my side, too.
Speaking of Richard, where was he? What was he doing? How was he feeling? I missed him and I was certain about those feelings. To the point where I was questioning everything, down to the very core of my being. I still could not fathom the fact that he was now an intricate part of my story. Was I polyamorous? WERE my feelings for Richard in fact so strong that my heart was being pulled to be with him and only him? Was I monogamous? His entry into my life had me in a complete tailspin. It was scary. My expectations were being confronted.
Over the next few days, I spent alone time with Kyle at his beachfront hotel when I had the chance. Something had shifted. The deep, long, conversations that flowed for hours and hours over Facetime, in person were few and sparse. Our comfort blanket of being behind a screen was no longer there and we were confronted with a meshing of our lives. I was distracted. I wasn’t present, at all. Between spending time with him, I would teach yoga in the mornings, spend the afternoon with Travis at work, and then walk down the beach and visit Richard at work. A relationship that too, was very fragile. Richard was VERY timid about polyamory, I didn’t want to rush him, but I also didn’t want to lose him. Trying to maneuver and manage my time and energy was so difficult. I wanted him to want this. Like I did.
A few nights after Kyle had settled in, I stayed the night to try and further investigate my emotions. We kissed, cuddled, curiously explored one another. I usually feel very comfortable and confident at sleepovers, but again, energetically something felt so off. I caught myself comparing him to the ease I felt with Richard. I didn’t dare say so. It had been a few days now, surely the immediate nerves should have wore off? I got no sleep, tossed and turned, and when I woke up I pretty immediately went back home to Travis. I felt awful, anxious, and pained. I had to have a conversation with Kyle. About my feelings, thoughts, emotions, and fears.
Before that conversation was a week of integration where Kyle was able to witness more in depth how I worked, lived, and interacted in my day to day life. There was a day of a pool party and other days of pure laziness and relaxation on the beach. Kyle was confused. I did not know it at the time, but he was reevaluating his expectations of our relationship too. Where was all of the yoga? Meditation? Writing? Why the drinking and socializing? What happened to all of the plans of days together adventuring, swimming, creating? Life looked so much different than the picture I painted. A lot of my time was dedicated to Travis as we lived together, he was my nesting partner. He was also struggling with severe depression which took up a lot of emotional capacity. Now, with Richard in my life too, I wanted to be wrapped up in his 6’5” arms like a little burrito. And as much as I tried to avoid relationship hierarchy, giving one partner more attention than the other, A LOT of my time and energy WAS allocated to my other relationships. Not Kyle.
The dynamics were shifting as I was trying to hold it all together.
Before Kyle and I had our talk, I sat down and mapped out my wants and needs. My fears and stressors. Trying to pinpoint my feelings for him and with him. I had come to the realization that the intimacy was feeling forced and that was pushing me away. I was trying to make myself want him, when in reality my comfort was just now growing. Maybe we don’t need every partner to fulfill ALL of our needs, sure. However there does need to be a level of comfort with intimacy regardless of how many partners you have. That although we had had numerous sleep overs, there was a gut feeling that I wasn’t ready for this step, even though we had in the past. I didn’t want it to feel forced, I wanted to WANT to sleep over. I knew that meant rewinding a little bit. I also knew I wanted to have Richard around me more. I caught myself comparing again. I needed to stop. I couldn’t.
I sat down with Kyle as he ate lunch, surrounded on every side of us by striking white sandy beaches and turquoise water gently brushing the shore. His eyes so wonderfully matched the landscape. The most gentle and striking blue eyes. He knew, and I knew, that he knew, that I knew… something was off. I told him exactly how I was feeling. That as slow as we had taken our relationship, now being together in person, everything felt rushed, forced, off. That the chemistry was missing and I wasn’t sure how to regain it, if ever. Hoping that us all moving in together in a few days would aid with getting comfortable around each other. That by spending more uninterrupted time together we could see if this relationship was going to breakdown or breakthrough. As I spoke, he listened well. My heart raced. There is no worse feeling than being on a different page than a lover, knowing you are causing pain and heartbreak. I hate this more than anything, but vulnerability and honest communication are the foundation to healthy polyamory.
He responded.
Deep breaths.
He felt the same way! I was relieved! He too wanted to slow it down to find the flow. We discussed that intimacy looked different for everyone, and that emotional intimacy was the road we would travel down, not physical. I set my boundary and let him know I would not be sleeping over for the time being until I felt more comfortable. He agreed. The bright, beaming, lights of our conjoined expectations quite literally blinded us. In our months and months of talking online, I ONLY expected that whirlwind, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-of-eachother kind of connection. That the time apart would make us irresistible to one another. I never imagined, in the conversations leading up to this moment, that this is how it would play out. I never expected to desire a friendship more than a boyfriend. I never expected to want to sleepover with two men, neither of which being him. Thinking future tense only gets us into trouble. We get attached to outcomes that never come true. It hurts.
Phase Two: Moving Day!
A week later, Travis, Kyle, and moved into our home together. It consisted of 4 bedrooms. One room for Kyle, one for Travis and I, one for Emily (Travis’ other GF who was coming from England in a few weeks), and one room that was already occupied. The house was more of a palace than anything. A massive sand courtyard, pool as the centerpiece, lined with an outdoor kitchen for hosting, on the opposite side of the courtyard were the rooms in one long row, above them a massive rooftop space with couches and room for yoga, and an outdoor jungle gym. We were in the heart of the main center of Paje, a 3 minute walk to the beach, 2 minutes to the main road filled with fruit and veg shops, and integrated in the local community of makers and happy Zanzibari children who were always smiling and waving at us ‘muzungus’, or foreigners.
Kyle, Travis, and I moved in to The Palace (our home) and it was a breath of fresh royal air. The first night, I made Mexican food and danced around the kitchen to my “Covid tunes” playlist on Spotify. Name a better duo, I’ll wait? Travis and Kyle talked about science, aliens, politics, astrology, all the woowoo things you would imagine the archetype of a hippie nomads sitting around a table in Africa would talk about. We do. At the end of the meal this poly queen relaxed on the couch and watched the men do the dishes. Take that heteronormative patriarchy! I’ll show you who’s boss! I would occasionally wander into the kitchen and give them each a kiss. We had all agreed that both parties were comfortable seeing me kiss each in front of one another. It was nice. Easy. Finally, we could all cohabitate and see this journey through. See if the story in my head would be lived out in-front of my very eyes or crash and burn like a pile of hot garbage.
Richard coincidently worked a 2 minute walk from The Palace. So, the next morning I invited him for a coffee. He was SO nervous about meeting Kyle or being in his presence. He had met Travis now a few times, but was still so timid every single time he thought about being in the same place as both of them and me. I reminded him, please tell me if you can’t handle this. If it’s too much. I will understand.
I saw his brain turning. Who would kiss me when? Who would I hug first? Would I take turns holding their hands? All of the questions I’m sure you’re all sitting behind the screen wondering yourselves. Relax, I’m getting there.
I assured him that Kyle was out, probably throwing massive rocks and logs around on the beach with the local Maasai tribe and Travis slept until noon. He could only come by for a few minutes, but even having him take that scary jump of coming into OUR home… was massive. He would always hug and kiss me outside of the fortress walls as that made him feel most comfortable. I didn’t give a shit if he wanted to hug and kiss me in a sewage gutter, I just wanted his hands all over me anywhere, anytime.
Richard made his way to me like a mirage of my dreams, he slowly walked up and I jumped into his arms. He was the world’s best hugger, everything else melted away when he held me. My thoughts, non-existent. Nothing else mattered. I hadn’t spoken to him much about my feelings for Kyle and where I stood. It was already such a confusing situation, but I wanted to let him know that Kyle and I were taking a step back and slowing things down. I knew subconsciously, that what I really wanted to happen was even more time spent with Richard. If I am being honest with you all, I wanted him all in as my boyfriend. Once again, I told him I would give the patience to take this slow as he figured out if he was comfortable with the situation or not, but at times I wonder if I was being manipulative in my own desires. I continually reminded him to tell me if he couldn’t handle this, to just communicate that to me. That I would be sad, yes, but also would understand completely. I didn’t want to force him into the situation, but slowly guide him. If it felt right. Our chemistry was so electric that most of our time was spent kissing. He would always say, “Okay, I will tell you, I promise.” We were in a trance and falling in love. Hard.
Richard would often came over to hang at the house in small doses and swim or sneak a kiss. As the days passed, he grew increasingly more at ease with the thought of meeting Kyle. He would have to meet him eventually that is if we did want to further our relationship. The juggling act was getting difficult for me. As discussed, both Travis and Kyle were okay with seeing me with Richard, hugging, kissing, holding hands. All I could do was constantly reassure Richard that as weird and uneasy as this all felt, being so open and honest, that this was indeed, okay! This was an open relationship. He and I even discussed a friend he had that had feelings for him, they would kiss occasionally, have sex, it was very casual. He would always get tense when talking about her to me, “Are you sure this isn’t weird i’m telling you this?”, he would ask. I would tell him it wasn’t weird at all, I need to know these things and also supported him in his private life. I was honest and told him of course it made me jealous to think about. Those were my emotions to work through. I’m no angel, scorpio actually. Jealous, possessive, and emotional. Occasional jealousy is a part of relationships we all face. I wanted to show him it was okay to feel jealous, and also not let it consume you.
The continuing days in Paje blurred together and our circle of friends bloomed to a core group of 10. Small island, small community. Our house became the meeting place for swimming, hanging, and of course eating. The circle knew about our dynamic and were fascinated. They really were along for the ride and were of course watched me kiss and hug both Kyle and Travis, they got used to it and didn’t even bat an eyelash. One friend Sofia became so comfortable with it she would introduce me to new people as follows, “And this is Kirby! She’s polyamorous! She has two boyfriends!” like a proud momma she was. Bless. I didn’t want to be too eager about Richard. I gave them bits and pieces here and there, but he had to meet Kyle first. See if he could handle it, wanted it. To rip off the bandaid.
Because Richard and I’s chemistry was SO intense, it was hard to conceal what was happening between us to our friends. Not that I wanted to keep him a secret, he just wasn’t ready yet for all of this. My patience was running low. One Sunday afternoon, we had invited everyone over. Our “Sunday Funday’s” at The Palace were going strong after their creation on Kyle’s birthday the first Sunday in October. Richard loves to cook like I do (yeah…I know.. just add it to the list) so he came over to help me prep while I was home alone. We were drinking wine, making tortillas, throwing flour on each others faces, flirting like school children. He was so respectful and nervous, I would try and kiss him and he would always look around to make sure no one had come home yet. I kept saying, “RELAX! No one is here! Shut up and kiss me!” I was trying to make him feel comfortable, knowing at any minute Travis, Kyle, and our friends in fact would be there. “Are you ready for this?”, I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, and carefully started to peel back the bandaid.
One by one, our friends trickled in. Music was playing, laughter surrounded us, there was so much happiness here. So much love. Travis came bouncing in like Tigger, gave Richard a friendly hug and started to chat with him about boats, as they both bonded over spending many years as crew out on sea. I loved watching them talk, they had so much in common. Two pirates. Travis always really liked Richard and fully supported our relationship. As they talked I grabbed Richard from behind and gave him a hug, he grabbed ahold of my forearms with his hands and let me sway. I giggled and said, “See, you can do this. Let it be this easy.” The wine helped. It was hard NOT to touch him. One of us was always winking at the other, gently brushing one anothers low back as we would walk passed, or grabbing finger tips, bumping shoulders purposefully. The evening drew on and everyone was having such a great time, there was stimulating conversation and joints circulating.
Out of the corner of my eyes I noticed Kyle walking across the courtyard and I thought, okay, this is it.
He walked straight up to Richard like the gentleman he is and gave him a hug, “Hey man, I’m Kyle it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Richard embraced him, and just like that, the bandaid was officially removed. The group dynamic helped the initial meeting. Kyle knew how nervous Richard was and wandered off to do some pull-ups at our in home jungle gym to give us space. I looked to Richard with the biggest smile, “See! Was that so hard?! Can I kiss you now?” He looked back at my mischievous grin, “Jesus Kirby, No! Be patient with me! This is all so new. So out of my comfort zone.” He had to consistently remind me of that. I learned that I am also the most impatient person on the planet and want what I want, when I want it. I don’t like being told no. I pouted and smacked his butt instead. I noticed our friends smiling our direction, watching he and I interact was infectious. And probably gross. We were obnoxiously obsessed with one another. I said a quick prayer hoping it would work out between us.
Night fell and I was predominantly off with Richard in our own world. I would flutter around and check-in with Travis, give him some love and kisses, but he didn’t need much looking after. He loved his independence like I did. I was blind and naive to Kyle’s needs, forgetting he was still very new to this place and these people too. I was caught up in my own needs, I would briefly stop in his direction say hi, kiss, hug, and be on my way. Completely infatuated by Richard. He and Kyle exchanged pleasant and casual conversations and everything started to feel at more ease. Liquid courage is a magic elixir in these situations and Kyle was learning to let go too. “Let loose, let your hair down!” I would always say to him. Kyle hadn’t been in a social group like this in a long time. Everything was very new, to everyone. We were all pushing our limits. Growing. Evolving. Changing. Before my very eyes.
Soon enough, Richard was allowing me to kiss him in front of the group every so often. He began to notice that in fact, no one even cared! That he cared more than anyone in the room. I was teaching him how to let down his walls and be vulnerable. Talk to me about his feelings, fears, needs, desires. The trust was growing and he was letting me in. It felt really, really good. I was leading him like Travis had once done for me, in his first polyamorous dynamic. If he would let me. That night was a breakthrough for he and I. We dragged two pool loungers together in the sand courtyard, star gazed the vast desert sky, bodies intertwined like vines, and passionately kissed until we fell asleep. It felt so right. So real. These feelings were of pure, undeniable love. I guess it was happening. Meanwhile, hidden in the bliss, was the breakdown and denial of Kyle and I’s relationship crumbling apart.
Phase Three: The Shit.
Weeks carried on as regular programming. Richard now become comfortable enough as to come over and hang out alone with Travis, Kyle, and I for dinners. Everything was in flow. Richard and I were progressing fast. Kyle and I, however yet to find that intimacy. Travis and I had our own personal struggles, one of which being my mental preparation for his partner Emily/LDR (long distance relationship) to arrive from England in a month. He and I were spending a lot of quality time together prepping for the inevitable shift in our relationship. Overall, everything was good. I felt so incredibly lucky to have 3 amazing men in my life. However, there was 1 that I was neglecting my time and and attention towards and that was Kyle.
Since he had arrived I still hadn’t quite shaken the gut feeling that this wasn’t meant to be a romantic relationship, but platonic. Those fears of my expectations not playing out like I had imagined lead me to really pull away. I felt his desire to deepen, wanting my attention and affection, and I was nowhere to be found. Sunday Funday became our new normal. Sunday after Sunday our core group would come over for tacos, burritos, samosas, chopati, drinks, pool, and occasional added party favors. I love hosting, I love creating community, and holding space for healing and love to transpire. These Sunday’s offered just that. It was our form of church, salvation. From a broken, Godless society. Buffett potlucks that alchemized into dance parties and transformed into cuddle puddles and back to healing ceremonies. All under the African sky. It was magic.
My attention was always pulled in a million directions and I admittedly liked it that way. I like feeling wanted, I liked ensuring everyone was having a good time, I liked helping others heal. Some nights I spent in the corner for hours with friends leading them through meditations and deep heart to hearts. Hours away from Travis, Kyle, and Richard. It was where I was called and I always followed. One Sunday night, Kyle was particularly frustrated with me and my lack of attention on him, so much so that he exploded. I was so caught off guard? Where was this coming from? Sure, I was giving other people attention, but this was my normal. Why now?
Suppression. Bottled up emotions. Anger. Fear. Life.
The next morning I knew we had to talk. I had thought long and hard about how I felt. What I felt was mourning and a broken heart that he and I just, were not working. As hard as we were trying. He did not see me and I did not see him. One thing that lead me to polyamory in the first place was the excitement and allowance of freedom, the removal of chains, ankle weights, that I had felt in all of my last relationships. “Kirby, you’re too social. Kirby, you’re too outgoing. Kirby, you’re too bossy. Kirby, you’re too direct. Kirby, everyone loves you it makes me jealous. Kirby you’re so friendly to everyone, but can you focus on me now?” My TOO MUCHNESS scares men off. I am who I am and who I am is free, direct, powerful, and also nurturing as hell, a giver. However, I will not baby or coddle. I will let you take charge of your emotions and hold space as best I can, but ultimately I will choose me. Every, single, time.
And that’s what I did.
Kyle didn’t like that. Kyle didn’t expect that, “Kirby, I thought we’d be doing yoga together everyday, meditating, going on adventures. Not spending majority of our time together drinking and socializing. You’re just not what I expected. You’re not what I signed up for.” He had put me in a box. A box I didn’t fit in. Kyle simply needed more of me that I just could not give. Truth was, I had put him in a box too. “Kyle, you’re so sensitive. I didn’t think you would be so needy. Why are you upset I am so social? Of course we’re not going to do yoga together 24/7.” I had put him in a box, too. A box he did not fit in. He wasn’t what I expected either. I noticed that majority of my time was spent with Richard and Travis. That I was putting Kyle on the backburner. I was treating him like the 3 legged dog at the shelter. Giving him attention when I chose, but mostly just petting him through the cage door on my way out. Letting him fend for himself in the African tundra. I had led him here, and then abandoned him.
We realized we weren’t filling each others wants and needs. After 2 months of a love teeter-totter, we decided to just be friends. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Similar to our conversation shortly after his arrival, we were on the same page. Relief. Friendship. However, I now faced a new reality. The expectation that with all of us living together, I would be spending most nights with Kyle and Travis with Emily when she arrived…crash and burn. She was moving to Zanzibar very soon, this was a mess. Now, I would be living with my ex-boyfriend, boyfriend, and my boyfriend’s girlfriend. Perfect.
The next week I spent a lot of time with Richard for comfort. He was easing into the the dynamic, but also one foot in and one foot out the door. Often asking me why I couldn’t just be monogamous with him. Didn’t I want to get married? I do, in a sense. Didn’t I want kids and a family? I absolutely do, in a community living type of way. Didn’t I want a man that could build me a home with his bare hands? Well, does that even exist anymore? Yes, yes it does, with him. Didn’t I want dual citizenship literally anywhere BUT America? 150%, yes. Where do I sign? He quite literally checked all of the boxes. My mind would immediately dart to Travis, I could never leave him. Not now, maybe not ever! Just as I was trying to lead him into the unknowns of polyamory, he was also playing with fire trying to pull me back into monogamy. I wasn’t giving in, but I also wasn’t entirely off the table. He wanted a more traditional, simple life together. A lot of it was foggy, but I knew I didn’t want to lose him.
Another Sunday came and in the true monotony of covid, we stuck to our norm, the ‘ushe’. Somehow, is the sameness of it all, this Sunday was different. Maybe because now I was standing in my power. I had done something really hard, but what I knew was right. My heart was hurting, broken, over Kyle, but at the same time breaking open to the possibilities of Richard and I together. Really together. Kyle and I transitioned into a friendship seamlessly and instantly, we melted into the role that best fit us.
“LET GO OUT YOUR ATTACHMENT TO THE OUTCOME!”
My mind would scream at each time I started to over analyze and create the illusionary future ‘us’ of Richard and I.
“HAVEN’T YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON YET, YOU DUMB BITCH?!”
My mind yelled at the top of her lungs. Like an annoying, buzzing, fly.
“NOPE, I haven’t!” I proudly naively to myself.
My expectations were high. Everything WAS working out. I took that queen energy into this Sunday. I spent the most time with Richard that I possibly could. Asking him hard questions, trying to break down his protective layering to uncover his truest self. He had a hard time letting me in, “Kirby, you have another boyfriend. I really don’t know if I can do this!”
“Yes, I know. But you two are such good friends! Plus, it’s only one other boyfriend now, doesn’t that change anything?”
These types of conversations happened frequently. I understood why. He was monogamous, I wasn’t. It was so confusing. Poly/monogamous relationships exist, but they are no doubt complicated. The last thing I wanted to do was force him into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with or wanted for himself. However, I saw that he COULD do it. Anyone can. I always reminded him of that. You are so powerful! Look at how far you’ve come in just a few months! I wore the rose colored glasses with him because I believed in him, in us, so much. I wanted to show him how serious, how dedicated, how in love with him I was. That no amount of other partners in my life could or would take away for my completely separate feelings for him. He was like a big teddy bear, always wanting to snuggle and hold me, protect me. His arms were the safest place in the world. He was so easy to love. So near the end of this particularly special Sunday, we dragged the lounge chairs together in the sand and grabbed pillows and blankets and laid under the stars, legs wrapped around the other.
This was our favorite way to be.
We fell asleep that night and woke up at sunrise. A vibrant fuchsia, lavender sky stretched as far as the eyes could see. Suddenly, a mist. Teeny, tiny…raindrops? It never rained here. I looked up and saw one lonely cloud poof over our head that began to gently waken us with her liquid greeting. Bodies still completely intertwined, my face nuzzled into his chest. He sleepily peeked one eyelid opened as he noticed the rain. I have quite literally never experienced a more romantic moment in my 27 years on this planet. He pulled me in closer to him, I felt his morning Richard against me. We kissed deeply, passionately, lovingly, our bodies danced. I pulled away and stared at him past his eyes. Into his heart, his soul. And said what I felt. “I love you, Richard.” He stared back at me. “You don’t need to say it back. I know it’s complicated, but I do. What I feel with you is real. This moment, is so beautiful, and perfect, and I love you.”
He stared.
He smiled.
He pulled me in.
“I love you too, Kirby.”
I wish I could bottle this moment up and drink it every time I was feeling sad. Everytime I needed a reminder of what pure, unfiltered, love felt like. To share with another human. In such a raw and authentic way. In that, life is a mess, but let’s love anyways. Kinda way. We laid as long as we could, but time went by so fast. A blink and it was over. Richard had to leave for work, so we got up from our magical love bubble and sadly walked him to the gate.
He lifted me into his arms and we tightly embraced. Finally. We are doing this. We are together! Really together. He lowered my feet back to the ground and I whispered ‘I love you’ in his ear. He blushed and said it back. Turned around and walked into the distance. I stood there waiting until he was out of sight and squealed my way back inside. I couldn’t wait to tell Travis and Kyle what had happened.
When you allow yourself to work through your jealousy in polyamory, what you find are feelings you never knew could exist. Feelings of joy for your partner, because seeing them happy and in love, makes you happy. Compersion. Travis and Kyle were so happy for me. I couldn’t believe what was happening. How far I had come on my journey. Dealing with my own insecurities and jealousy within Travis and I’s relationship and now, finally, receiving abundance, joy, and ease for all of my hard work and patience.
I expected to hear from Richard later that day as I always did. We exchanged messages throughout the day, everyday. Night fell and no message from him. I sent him a voice note, checking in, apologizing if I moved too fast, and hoped he had had a good day. Two blue checks, he listened to the message. No response.
I thought, he works hard, he must have just fallen asleep, that has happened before. The next morning, nothing. No message. Radio silence.
I started to go crazy. Where was he? Why wasn’t he saying anything, not a hello, not a “hey, that WAS too fast, can we slow down I need time.” Nothing. Night fell and still, nothing. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep.
I woke up the next day hopeful, today is the day he will have messaged! Nothing. Silence. I took it upon myself, AGAIN, to voice message him.
“Hey Richard, something is clearly up, can we talk today? Can we meet up after work?”
Hours later he responds nonchalant, “Yeah sure, I’ll call you after I finish work and we can talk.” A sigh of relief. I was still fucking pissed. But relieved.
Night fell, he never called. My blood was boiling.
How. Fucking. Dare. You. Not. Communicate. With. Me.
4 days came and went and you bet your bottom dollar, I lost my goddamn marbles. I needed answers, I needed clarity. What was happening? Had I scared him away? Had he met someone else? Had he died?! The possibilities were endless. If he wouldn’t talk to me, I was left with no choice, but to stalk him at work on his lunch break. The time we usually hung out at everyday, I knew his schedule. He also did only work a mere 2 minutes from my house after all. So, that’s what I would do. If you won’t be a man and TALK to me after we said I LOVE YOU and then you DISAPPEAR. I most definitely, will, track you down to get answers. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Of course he’s scared, of course he’s freaked out, of course he needs space. He also just needs to tell me what was going on, what was on his mind, so I can either move on or be patient.
So, fearlessly, I put on my best outfit, wiped away the tears, and strutted down the beach, barefoot and broken. My heart was pounding so loudly, so strongly, that it was making me dizzy. Your stomach in your throat and the smoldering, African sun, is quite the cocktail. I bobbed and weaved through the corridors of the cement village. I could see his work space, this was it. I was so nervous. I gathered the courage and staggered up to the gate, cautiously peeked through, and saw no one. Shit.
He must be eating lunch on the beach at the main office, I thought. Probably with his boss and coworkers, my friends. This point I was livid, pissed. Are you hiding from me? I will find you, I am woman, my scent is like lion, you can not hide. You weak man. You silly, weak, man child.
I made my way another minute down the road, toward the beach. Stepped around the corner and my heart sank. There he was. He looked right back at me. Stare down. stay composed Kirby, stay composed. I instantly started weeping.
I started sobbing because as much as I was hurting, I only wanted to jump into his arms and tell him how much I had missed him. That as pained, and wronged, I felt by his silence, I just wanted to kiss it all away. Love is the most powerful potion for stupidity.
I mouthed and motioned for him to come near me, “Can we talk?” I mumbled through my tears.
He looked like a deer in headlights, everyone was watching, he didn’t have a choice, so he began to walk toward me head hung low.
Finally, answers.
Thank you for following along my journey as the story wildly unfolds! Stay tuned for part 3 of the honest tale of 3 boyfriends.
xoxox
Kirby