truhbul.

So had coffee with Jack tonight.
One thing you should know about me right here and now:
I have incredibly high standards as far as my dignity and integrity. There's a whole slew of bullshit I will not put up with, mostly because I've put up with it before and I feel I have a right as a human being to not have to experience it again.
I have, however, incredibly low self-esteem.
This usually manifests in the fact that I cannot fathom the idea of someone, anyone for that matter, being interested in me ever for anything other than sexual gratification.
So imagine my surprise when Jude pointed out that Jack is most definitely interested in me.
Also, try to imagine my surprise when I realized he was right.
This entire epiphany came up when Jack finally called me tonight and it came out in conversation that I do have a partner. It had never really come up in conversation-- purely incidental, though I'm wondering if it was subconscious on my part-- but I'm also good friends with several other people at Jack's workplace and it isn't a secret that I'm currently unavailable... I suppose I thought he already knew.
It went a little like this.
(after Jack and I had teased Jude, using me as a medium) "I wish you could see the look on his face right now."
"Your roommate?"
"No, my boyfriend."
"Oh, your... boyfriend... oh."

*confused look on my face, to say the least*
After we hung up, I collapsed in a heap with my face in my hands, moaning about how I'm a jerk and a horrible person for unknowingly leading on this great guy.
If I didn't like him, it would be one thing.

...but it's another thing entirely when, at the shithole diner we were at, I was constantly fighting the urge to burst out saying "Do you realize how fucking amazing you are? And if I kissed you, would it be weird?"

It's not that I don't love Jude. I do, more than most could understand; if it came down to it, I would die for him without a second thought or even a moment for debate.

But. I. Am. Not. A. Monogamous. Creature.
I consider myself poly-amorous by nature. This is the first strictly monogamous relationship I have ever been in, and to say the least I am frustrated and unhappy. Not unhappy in the relationship, but unhappy with the terms and conditions. I've always been in open relationships, I work best in open and polygamous relationships, and this is not the first time I've struggled with that beast in my chest (and between my legs haha). It's not a sexual thing with me-- I want to stress how little sex has to do with it.  I have no problem with being in love with more than one person at a time, and being committed to more than one person. I've done it, and it's ideal for me. Most people do not understand and most people do not have any wish to, but this is my nature and I cannot change it, though I have thoroughly tried. I can keep myself "in check" to please my partner (as I am doing now), but in the end all I feel is cheated and dissatisfied. I am restrained by the loveliest of chains.
I've tried having this talk with Jude, who cannot fathom being able to cope with an open relationship. He knows where I stand and is all apologies whenever I bring it up, but he is unwilling to change. I've had several people say I need to end it simply because of that principle alone, but how can I cut the best thing out of my life so easily?
So maybe it's time for us to sit down and have a serious talk about this. Again. Because I am having a seriously difficult time keeping my thoughts in check at the moment, and it's killing me. Killing me very painfully.
I don't know what to do. I just don't know.
Jack is wandering in and out of my anachronism mind, weaving wicked thoughts into my routines and leaving a trail of breathless fantasy in his wake.
GodDAMN I wish I hadn't picked up that fucking book.
Fuck you, Neil Gaiman. You're the one who started all this.
I was just sitting in a chair, reading American Gods when a kid with interesting rings and clothes walked my way and asked if I'd heard of Jeff Vandermeer. And with one eyebrow raised in my usual style, I thought nothing of it and tried to ignore that infallible tug in the back of my stomach that I really need to stop denying. It's never lead me astray, it's never wrong, and I never heed its' warnings.
I remember pushing that tug out of my mind as I clocked back in from my lunch, thinking "there's something very different about him..."
When I've had more sleep, I think it's time to pull out the trusty tarot. Another infallible guide. No swords this time, please?