Falling Apart

Whatever "issues" I may have had or still have may very well have started in childhood, relationship with my parents, siblings, teachers.... I'm choosing to start my story here: In 2004, wanting to pay tribute to a friend fighting breast cancer and the memory of my father I joined a charitable organization to do a triathlon and raise money to cure cancer.

I had a great time training with the team and met some wondeful, enthusiastic, outstanding people. Some I remain friends with to this day (and, hopefully, beyond). Some I may never see again and some with whom I developed a professional relationship. One of these people was assigned to me as a mentor.

That mentor is an exceptional man who made me feel like I was the only person he needed to take care of. He introduced me to anyone he knew on the team, would run, ride or swim with me, answer any question I had, always making himself available to whatever I needed while I trained and fundraised. He was very easy to talk to about anything, made me laugh and made me feel like a better person just to be around him. As if with him on my side there wasn't anything I couldn't accomplish. It was such a satisfying relationship that it caused me to complete several more triathlon seasons and become a mentor myself (well, Fundraising Captain, but, pretty much the same thing)

I fell in love.

Meanwhile at home, I felt worthless and frustrated. My husband had lost his job and we were quickly spending all of an inherintence I'd recieved from my grandfather while my husband sat at home, depressed, waiting for a job to find him. He also was not helping with the housework or much with the children and he insulted any ideas I had to make money. Although he made it clear that he loved me very much and, in fact, "never even THOUGHT of another woman", I began to question my marriage.

I'm not a cheater, so I didn't tell my mentor about my feelings toward him. Instead, wanting to see him happy I tried to set him up with other women. And yet, when he started dating someone else involved with the team, I was destroyed. I know it wasn't because he was dating someone, but because she was always around. I know he felt uncomfortable being as chummy with any of his female friends as he used to be, while she looked on. I remember seeing a quote, around that time:"The worst way to miss someone is when they are right next to you". I completely understood that. It was as if he wasn't allowed to even talk to me, so breakfast was certainly out of the question. My heart felt worse than empty. It was a black hole that was attempting to suck the rest of my being into it. It was very, very painful. I was unable to continue any work I was doing with the organization. I cried when I thought no one was looking and even frequently with my family home,while I was curled up in the bed. I slept most of the time. I went to work like a zombie. Dishes piled up. Laundry, trash, mail wasn't dealt with. I'd eat fast food so often you'd think I owned stock. I'd sit in my car outside my house, crying for hours not wanting to go in and face my life. When I did go in, the place was such a mess I'd ask myself "how can people LIVE like this!?!" As I was eating myself into a coma-like condition, I had no energy or focus to give to my career. At some point I'd stepped on a scale and found that I was the same weight as I was just before I gave birth to either of my kids! 216 pounds! (I'm 5' 4").

Since I felt like my husband berrated me everytime we had a serious conversation, I didn't feel like I could talk to him about any of this. I attempted to on several occasions but it seemed like everytime I opened my mouth to say something, I'd stick food in it instead.

Then in November of 2006 I thought I was pregnant. My husband and I had harldy talked in the past 8 or 9 months but we were still plenty good at having sex. It was a reality check that hit me hard, knowing that "if I'm pregnant and I have this baby (my husband) and I would HAVE to stay together for, at least a few more years". I couldn't believe I was even CONSIDERING giving up a baby, but, clearly, I was VERY unhappy and already trying to commit slow suicide. I realized that if I wanted to live, (and have a chance at being happy in the future) I'd have to live with the fact that I may be getting divorced.

So I told him. Although I had tried to distract myself from my pain by fantasizing about men who were neither my husband nor the "other man", I didn't feel that I was being completely honest when I said:"I have a confession to make....I've been thinking of other men". I don't think I ever told him that I thought I was pregnant. He thought I was going to tell him that I'd had an affair, but I was able to honestly say "Only in my head". And then something amazing happened: he said he'd just been reading online about something called Polyamory. Polyamory is basically defined as having multiple loving relationships where all parties have knowelge and consent. He suggested we become polyamorous.

Every polyamorous couple or group divises their own rules for their relationship and neither one of us acted on our new configuration for over a year, as we discussed it. This was remarkably freeing and brought new life and excitment to our relationship. We were able to talk again, and be really honest as we played out scenerios of what might happen with others and how we should handle it so as not to offend or hurt each other. The most important rule: no secrets. We meet or hook up with someone- we tell each other right away. One of our rules, however, is that we are not allowed to come between anyone else's relationship. Therefore, I was not allowed to "come clean" to the man I fell in love with as he was now in a long term relationship. That still weighed heavily on me: not knowing if he has had or could ever have the same feelings for me...

Now, years later, still maintaining a professional relationship with "the other man" (we'd call each other "friend", but only saw/spent time with each other when we had an appointment...)and him no longer dating. I was allowed to tell him. Knowing that it could kill the relationship entirely I felt it was better to say something than to NEVER know. Again, I tried to say something on several occasions, but I guess I just wasn't ready. Finally, I put myself in a position where I HAD to tell him. I know now what I suspected years ago: he does NOT have any romantic feelings for me. Plus, I haven't heard from him in a while so it's possible that I'm seeing what I thought would be the worst case senerio and he is out of my life completely. I'm trying to give him some time as I would still like to have more than a professional relationship. I would like to be his friend. Maybe he doesn't realize how valuable it can be to have a friend who loves you deeply...