Dreary Valentine’s Day

My nights are getting better. I managed to rest for nearly seven and a half hours last night (this morning) from approximately twelve-midnight to seven-thirty in the morning. This marks the continuation of a trend that I’m happy to see growing; more sleep each night. The first night I didn’t sleep at all, the second night I woke up way before dawn, and the third night I did better but only by one hour.

As a result of all this, I’ve been tired constantly and was starting to feel like I’ve been walking through some kind of nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. Ironically, all I really wanted much of the time is to be able to sleep. Sleep has been more akin to temporary death than a period of rejuvination lately. Luckily, things have been improving quickly.

I spent much of the afternoon yesterday at my mother’s house. She’s been emailing me extremely frequently, asking how I’m doing and what the state of things are. (She’s been reading my blog because I set her up with an auto-opening newsreader and subscribed her to my site’s feed.) I’m not sure she’s figured out how to post comments on these entries yet.

I also had to go over to my mother’s to pick up a suitcase full of clothes belonging to myself and to Danica. Danica had washed these over a week ago and had said she’d pick them up the next day. So now that I was running out of socks, and my mother’s hired housecleaner was coming over the next day, I found myself needing to go get that suitcase.

While I was there, my mother cooked a salmon dish for me (one of our favorite’s that I had actually taught her some years back) and I ate a few bites before feeling full. This clearly distressed her because she made several comments about how I have to take better care of myself and how my stomach was obviously shrinking. I spent about two hours there doing nothing but semi-argue with her about my current state of affairs, both emotional an financial.

My mother has this very troubling tendency to want to help me very much and end up not being helpful at all. In fact, some of the things she said were pretty hurtful. The conversation (more like the rant) was heavily laden with age-old comments and stories and reasoning that I found completely irrelevant to the discussion at hand.

One of the most hurtful things she said, despite the fact that she tried to say it very gently, was regarding polyamory. She started by asking me if I saw a pattern in the way most (the past two) of my relationships had ended. (For the record, I’ve only ever had three serious relationships in my life, so 2 out of 3 is thus considered “most” for her.) I knew exactly where this was going, so I pointed out, again, that neither of these breakups happened because of a lifestyle choice and that thinking that they had was totally missing the point.

Unconvinced, she asked me why, then, does this seem to be the recurring theme. That was easy: because it’s the single most exploitable excuse with which to end a relationship and the easiest way to push loved ones away. Non-committed partners will seek other, new partners. Being monogamous won’t stop that.

Neither of my now-ex-girlfriends were fully committed to me. Both of them told me that they simply have more living to do before they are ready to do that. That’s why we broke up. The fact that I was committed to Danica, more so than most husbands are to their wives, makes very little practical difference in the matter when that committment isn’t reciprocated. And committment is one of the single-most important relationship characteristics, be it polyamorous or not.

Thankfully, it was clearly evident that she was only trying to help me so it was much easier than it might have otherwise been to simply agree with her (emphatically) about the things she said which I agreed with and simply ignore (for the most part) the things I didn’t agree with. I actually left on a very positive note. I told her what an excellent mother she’s been (and it’s true, she’s amazing), how much I appreciated all the support, and that I was very thankful that she was trying to help. And all this while I was still exhausted; more reasons to be proud of myself.

When I got home, I spent a few hours online hanging about #polyamory. I wanted to give my brother a call, but wanted to wait until after nine o’clock so as not to incur the ridiculous cell phone charges normally associated with the calls. When I called him, I had forgotten most of the details I wanted to discuss, but we had a great conversation despite that.

I almost cried at some points, relaying some of the information about what was going on. We spoke a lot about our parents, too. We all miss Shir; he’s awesome. I asked him whether or not he had a valentine and he seemed confused. So I told him not to make a big deal out of it, just to go ask a friend (that is of the female persuasion, in his case) to be his valentine. I told him it would make her day, and it’d make him feel good.

Of course, I was thinking about Danica. However, the last thing I want to do right now is send mixed signals to her so I’m going to refrain from those sorts of actions for the time beind despite my burning desire to do something like that for her.

After we spoke, I started getting ready for bed. It was about 10:30 PM, and I knew that Danica had just ended work. I was expecting her to be home sometime at around 11:00 or 11:15 that night.

I got ready for bed, and then started doing dishes. She wasn’t home by eleven o’clock, so I kept doing dishes while telling myself I’d go to bed after “this next dish was clean.” I kept doing dish after dish until I had cleaned them all. By this time it was 11:30, and she still wasn’t home. I figured she had probably gone to stay at Randy’s again, even though she told me when she left today that she couldn’t stay there anymore.

That was okay. I don’t know why I was waiting up for her. I was dead tired, barely able to stand straight. I kept thinking that I needn’t worry about this anymore, that I had formally absolved myself of this responsibility the other day. It shouldn’t matter where she was anymore, not to me anyway.

But this was emotional. I still expected that she would be home and was dissappointed when, by 11:45, she wasn’t. I took the flowers she had given me the other day and cut the rubber bands from the stems, cleaned their vase, and re-set them nicely on the window sill.

Finally, I climbed into bed at exactly midnight. I thought I heard something at the door once, so I got up to see if it was Danica arriving late. It wasn’t, though, so I went back to bed. I didn’t wake up once through the night. And, as I stated at the beginning of this entry, I managed to stay asleep until 7:30 this morning.

I spent most of today online, talking. In the morning (around 8:30 AM), Danica arrived home but she didn’t stay long as she had to work at 11:00 AM today. We talked a bit and were finally able to keep things mostly light-hearted. It was a welcome reprieve from the emotional battering we had both been taking over the past several days.

I made a doctor’s appointment which I had been meaning to do for a while, I started organizing a bit of my workspace again, and my father emailed me some ideas for my new web site. That was exciting to see.

I’m still really tired, but I actually felt somewhat rested today. That’s a first in about a week. Now, I’m headed to the shower, then to run some quick errands, and then…then we’ll see. We’ll see….