Nothing is fair

Noah and I are still talking. He keeps saying things like, “Where we are so far” and I have heart palpitations because I want to treat the negotiating up to the last minute as tentative.

Today Noah said to me: “It sucks that so many of the things you do to make me happy hurt you.” I asked if there was much that worked like that in reverse. He said not so much.

I feel like we are getting to the point where “fair” is becoming less of a thing. Good. There is no fair here. We never wanted 50/50. We haven’t tried to be “fair” about earning money, housework, childcare, bill paying, planning for events… we aren’t fair. That’s not what we do. We each shoulder a burden. Is it even?

There is literally no way to evaluate that.

Does it work?

I don’t know.

My sex life is tricky. I have a lot of layered weird needs and restrictions and problems. Learning about all of them takes years of practice and attention. Which is to say Noah has helped me learn more about them than every other lover put together. Because of the difference in time and attention. A huge part of the problem is that everything is inconsistent. What works one day will do the opposite the next day. That’s not fair.

It isn’t fair for Noah and it isn’t fair for me. And there isn’t much of anything I can do about it. It is hormonal, chemical, and unpredictable. I have no choice but to ride the roller coaster. My other option is dying.

Noah is agreeing that he shouldn’t date. Not saying that he should never have sex or play with people, but dating is different. Is it fair? No.

Life isn’t fair.

I’m going to get one evening date a month and if I can make a day-time-during-babysitting date happen I can have one more date in a month. If.

So. I still won’t call myself poly. Because.

There are more nuances, of course. But that’s kinda the beginning of the frame.

Like, arranging play dates with friends together is totally ok. I know I’ll have feelings about that too. But I have historically done much better with this than other configurations. Is it “nice” to Noah that I am so insecure? No. But I am. We can deal with it by causing more damage to me or we can choose to try and avoid a few land mines just cause we can.

We are still talking about more intense play between us. This is going to be fucking hard to negotiate.

I am typing very slowly. And I should stop. I’d say my arm pain is at an 8.

But I want to type for four hours straight about my feeeeeeeeeelings and all the nuances of sex.

I can’t.