Tuesday, 18 October 2011

Sandy Eyes

It has been a bad night for sleep.

Virgil had a date yesterday, with the woman he seduced in our flat when I was away. Ava was supposed to be taking my mind of it but she bailed, with a migraine. She didn't know that was my ulterior motive for seeing her so I couldn't complain, just told her to get well soon with probably about as much honesty as with which she told me that she had a migraine.

It was too late to arrange anything else so I decided to go with it, sit with it, see how it felt. He was gone when I got home. I was worried about how slowly the time would go but the evening passed reasonably. I wasn't exactly leaping around with glee, but I was ok. I worked on my Halloween costume and practised white-face make-up. Healthy food slow-cooked on the stove. Admin. I tried not to think about what they were doing.

Having heard about its open-relationship subject matter, I watched half of Bob & Carol & Ted and Alice. Then I realised that it was after midnight. I had mentally prepared myself for Virgil coming in late and decided that it would be better to be asleep when that happened. So after a bit of reading in bed (still not tired), I put on precautionary earplugs and an eyemask. I wondered what I would look like to Virgil when he finally did come back.

I lay in the total dark hearing rain on the windows. I wondered about Virgil cycling in the rain. Earplugs were a bad idea. They let just enough sound in to be distracting. Then, after about ten minutes, he did come in. He was feeling affectionate. He wanted to talk and cuddle and told me how sorry he was that Ava had cancelled. He smelled alien, of cigarettes and more. I told him and he said that was weird because the date he had been with smoked but hadn't smoked with him. But I could smell her all over him.

I said, Something you should know about me is that I have an excellent sense of smell, and how could you think I would be ok with cuddling you while you smell like this? He said he had thought of washing when he came in but had got distracted and forgotten. Then he said sorry for being so thoughtless. He went off to the bathroom and I heard him splashing around. When he came back he smelled more like himself but he hadn't done a very good job because the fingertips on his right hand still smelled of her. He asked if he should have washed his hair. He said that would just smell of her flat and dinner.

So thanks, Virgil, for managing against my express wishes to tell me exactly what you did on your date and literally rubbing my nose in your sexual activities. I was upset: I'd been doing quite well and now felt grim (and still feel fairly grim this morning, to be honest). We talked. He comforted me. We cuddled. We didn't row, which is the important thing. But I didn't sleep well either.

I have had a few dates with someone else, but I think I might have blown it - that's a different blog entry. We'll see. I feel like I just have to do this, to persevere with it until I stop feeling jealous. It would help if my own non-monogamous sex life was shaping up in the way Virgil's is. We both recognise this but it's just one of those things. I can hardly expect him to wait until I meet someone first. I should be glad for him, and I suppose I am. I mean, I can't bear to think of him hurt, vulnerable or sad.

Jealousy. I'm jealous of the fact that in spite of the fact that we played yesterday morning (He initiated it, reader. I can have no complaints. He made a big effort to tie me up and please me, first orally and then with his fingers and a vibrator) he refused penetrative sex because he was saving himself for sex with her. More than that, by having an orgasm with me he was preparing himself for sex with her later.

I can't get my head around it. My stupid head. Virgil loves me and he lets me know it. He's making a big effort. We're talking and talking. We have an appointment with a counsellor later today. He's being all kinds of nice and loving at the moment. Our sexual activity levels are higher than they've been for ages.

But then he does something really utterly fuckwitted and thoughtless like getting into bed with me smelling of the sex he's had with another woman and he can't really see that that might not be cool. Would he turn up on a date with someone else smelling of sex with me? Would they like that? (Note to self: ask him that next time.)

He asks me how it's different from him smelling of other women after we've been at a sex party. Just of course, of course it's different. It's not the same thing at all.

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