Social media blunder

Ouch.

In a non-sex related project I recently set up a Twitter account and Tumblr. Twitter is something I haven't much experience of. There was the experience of spying on Sarah Smith on Twitter once, which was quite weird, and I haven't really used it since.

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Other people's feelings

I experience a new side to nonmonogamy and play the long game.

A recent first date inspired some interesting texts and a sense that something else might come of it. Not a big new romance, but the potential for sex and good company, pleasurable time spent getting to know someone. Damien is a grown-up but a fun one, not a geek but (on first impressions) a well-rounded, sociable, amicable man. He's an OkCupid connection and I liked the letter he wrote me and his profile so much that I went for it, even though I wasn't entirely sold on his pictures.

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Shame and non-monogamy

I'm not the only one to get jealous.

Given the bad press non-monogamy usually gets, it's understandable that when it's working folk want the world to wise up. But lately the posts of some poly people I know have seemed unbearably smug.

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Texts and spanking

Looking for work depresses me, but I have fun with texting and enquire about a new source of income.

Summoning my energy, I write emails to two organisations I think might employ me, or, more likely, give me some volunteering work. I earmark two more to visit.

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Day 18 PV

In which I think about resentment and know I can't go back.

I'm sad but one thing feels good and right: I don't want to be a jealous, resentful person again.


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Griping

The after-effects of seeing Jay are like a comedown from drugs. Just after I see him I think about him all the time, can't wait to see him again, wank alot and things like that. There's a half-life to this effect. Now, more than two weeks since our last date was cut short by his annoying flatmate I'm not feeling much.

This is a lot to do with his lack of communication. I tell myself that I shouldn't analyse this in his absence. He's not a great letter writer... texter, Facebooker etc. Not knowing Jay very well I don't feel confident enough to say that he finds writing difficult. Perhaps he just doesn't have much to say.

I wish Jay did have more to say though. What I'd really like is a text or picture message every few days, a token to show that he's thinking of me even while having fun and being busy away. I wish I could take back my wasted thoughts. Other than daydream about Jay, the only thing I've done lots of these last weeks is to read Game of Thrones - itself no more than a form of extreme escapism as I have already seen the television series.

The message that finally came went along the lines of:

Hello, how are you? I've been having a great holiday :) Now something I already told you twice already. Now something that shows I have not read your message properly. I'm going to be away a bit longer than I thought  :( I'll call you when I'm back in town. x

It's not awful. I can see that. It could be worse. We didn't have an agreement that he would write/call/text me x number of times, and it's not like we're boyfriend-girlfriend. But I would have liked something a bit more heartfelt than a sad face, an indication that he is impatient to see me too. Why can't we set a date to meet before he gets back to the city? 

Which is why I haven't replied yet. Anything I wrote now would be querulous and passive aggressive. I hate that. I also like the idea of keeping him waiting, as he kept me waiting. I hope he's checking his inbox more often than usual and wondering why I haven't written back yet.

Instead I complain to Virgil. I tell him that while Jay doesn't tick some important boxes he still has some major attractions and I feel emotionally involved. I also admit to being invested in it working because I need something like this. (Or at least, have felt emotionally involved and now feel like blowing it off.) That's called not having a shopping list, says Virgil. I say not trying to make someone meet all your needs is a nice thing about open relationships. Virgil comforts me and points out how nice it is that I can come to him for support in this way.

I say, 'Well, to a point, but the truth is that in an open relationship there just isn't the same degree of support. You might be supporting me now but tonight you're going on a date with Sarah and I feel rubbish about that. And I've utterly fucking had it with not having sex, not going out, not drinking and not eating sugar.'

Unfortunately with all this uncertainty and angst I have regressed in the jealousy stakes. I feel like punching Sarah in her peanut face now. Like really punching so that her head flies back and she says 'Oof'. Then I think about how upsetting that would be for her and the urge subsides a bit but not entirely.

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Too much thinking and SHBs but I set something in motion

Virgil (curse him) once told me that people who read self-help books use them to replace real change with reading self-help books. I think I use SHBs in times of crisis to get myself back on the straight and narrow, to tame my violent mind and unruly thoughts. When things start to spiral out of control SHBs can offer some perspective and stop me flying off the handle. I just bought another one. It's by Wayne Dyer. I'll let you know how it goes.

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STDs and open relationships

It's not sexy but my current preoccupation is my living situation. I have also been working pretty solidly which hasn't left much time for writing. When I finish this piece of work I shall devote myself to looking for a new place.

I was supposed to have a date with Tim yesterday, finally, but the day before he postponed: his herpes had flared up, right on the end of his cock (yes, I asked). He 'would understand if I wanted nothing more to do with him', he said. Then, when I said it was fine, 'Thank you for being so cool about it.'

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Life soup

I can't work out why I don't want to write at the moment. Not long ago I could do little else. I think I was on some kind of trajectory and needed to describe it. At least I could describe it. Now I don't know what I'm doing and it's hard to write about. It's just messy. I'm living in a flat which has turned out to be the wrong flat and just sort of keeping my head above water somehow. Things I thought I didn't want a few months ago now feel like achievements to maintain. And I still don't know if I want them. At least I have something to be bothered about now which isn't totally about my relationship. And there's still that of course.

This evening Virgil is on a date with Sarah. Well, he's back now I think. He just sent me an email with flight options for our summer holiday. Possibly he wants me to know that he's back and thinking of me. Yesterday I texted him to say I didn't think I could see him last night as I was too upset at the thought of the seduction dinner I imagined he had planned for her. For several hours I stormed around thinking how I hoped Virgil would be impotent or prematurely ejaculate. I thought I would refuse to see him for several days as punishment. I thought I would refuse to ever sleep in the bed I used to share with him. I wanted to smash Sarah. I felt sick and tired of trying to do something that I find difficult and painful. I thought of breaking up with him.

'Yes, smash her! That slut!' roars Deirdre my therapist, laughing, when I tell her about it. Then she makes me concentrate on my own feelings rather than what I think about Virgil's behaviour and his desire to have an open relationship. I note that the feeling gives me a horrid sensation in my right kidney.

'I feel betrayed. I feel left out. I hate that I can't call or text him when he's with someone else!' I say at last.

The session ends up being a lot about my six-year-old self wanting my mum when she went into hospital one summer. There was a lot of being taken to the park by an au pair called Karin and my auntie Barbara came to look after us too. I missed my mum. When she came back there was yet another baby to look after. I buried my head in books and became precociously independent.

It's pretty early for a date to finish, I think. Virgil already told me that he didn't have a big seduction dinner planned. So what did happen and is he dating Sarah or just seeing her as a friend? I wish I understood. I surprise myself slightly: I don't feel good about Virgil being on a date but I am coping. I have even got past the malicious thoughts.

I have a seduction dinner planned, by the way. Next week at Tim's flat I'm going to be the seducée who gets cooked for and (probably) fucked. I don't know if I have the stomach for it. Is that kind of certainty sexy? Am I really up for this? But a really good fuck is something I really wouldn't mind having. And if I take a vibrator with me I might come. Alot! Having only had sex with Tim a couple of times, several years ago, I don't know what his position is on vibrators. However, he already thinks I'm a sexual freak/superwoman so he can't be that much of a prude.
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Motivations and progress

I complain to my therapist, Deirdre, that Virgil is incompetent. He cannot tie up properly and he cannot beat to my satisfaction. He doesn't care about kink enough to be skillful. Virgil is a very amazing head on a body that he doesn't really live in. Dyspraxic is the word I use in private. It's unkind but therapy sessions are not a place to pull punches about people who aren't there. I think about how much better for me solo-therapy is than joint therapy.

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Self-sabotage

If you want to ruin the end of a perfectly good date, do this

• notice the time
• think: 'Virgil will not be interested in having sex with me now'
• remember that he has to leave at 8am the next day and that I won't see him this weekend
• feel sad and resentful
• frown and glower
• get noticed doing it
• refuse to explain, but then say: 'I'm just sad that we're not really having sex at the moment'
• et le voila!
  

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Challenge of the day...

I am impatient to see Virgil tomorrow. First I must endure a soul-withering day and evening at the scandalous rag. I must also overcome paranoid thoughts that he might be seeing Sarah. When we spoke on the phone this morning I didn't ask what his plans were for the day and he didn't tell me. I just wished him rest and recuperation after his marathon work stint this week. He's so tired. It's been all work and no play for Virgil.

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Virgil prepares to get back in the saddle and I know all about it

New communications strategy: share as much as possible. Unless you are truly disinterested in what your partner gets up to on their solo adventures, don't ask don't tell policies create massive opportunities for paranoia and insecurity to fester. An open relationship is something you do together.

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Two invitations: one good, one bad

This morning there are two new messages in my Facebook inbox. The good one is from Alan, the giver of Saturday night's bruise. He would like to see me again. Excellent news! I would like to see him again too and find out more about him. I hope there's enough connection besides the physical one for some nice sex and hopefully kink to happen. The other one is from Voracious C.

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Royalty

I tell Deirdre what happened at the play party - about playing on my own and giving permission for Virgil to play with Voracious C. It's a satisfying vignette and she asks me to describe in more detail how I felt at the time. I say: Well, when Virgil asked me to describe what I had been doing in front of the others I felt annoyed actually and defensive. It was cheeky of him but he always likes to hear about my solo adventures in as much detail as possible. It turns him on.

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We attend a play party. I leave with a bruise and some sense of progress

At a party on Saturday night I went off and played on my own. Got tied up and spanked and gave a very satisfying cock-sucking to someone. It was good - not earth-shattering but I enjoyed it! In the mirror this morning I was pleased to see a bruise on my left buttock.

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What's my motivation?

Here's a thorny question: At our counselling session I am spouting off about how painful it is for me when Virgil goes off on dates. How difficult I find the idea of him being intimate in a meaningful way with other people. How much it hurts to imagine him being excited about, kissing and having sex with other women who he is attached to. I can't stop going on about it. D says, What do you get out of feeling like that?

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I go fishing and catch some cod psychology

Today I have a virus. I stay in bed and read Opening Up. In between reads are bouts of crying and looking at other blogs and writings on open relationships. I make frequent cups of tea and cover my chest in Vicks Vapo-rub. I also find out that my two new vibrators are great fun and indulge in several marathon masturbation sessions. I don't think masturbating is a good idea when you are ill, though. Having ten orgasms is draining for an ill harlot, even if they are electronically induced and require little exertion.

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Is anyone happy in Polywood?

I would prefer not to have to consider the emotions of people other than Virgil and myself but I now accept this head-in-the-sand mentality has to stop. We had a long and painful conversation about how things had gone with Sarah the other day.  Now Sarah knows all about us and we know a lot more about her.

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Breaks and taking them

At 16.29 I text Virgil to ask (if he is free) could he book some tickets for something we want to see. The parentheses are because he is seeing Sarah today and I don't want to interrupt. At 23:03 he texts back to say he will do it later. I suppose that is his way of saying that he is now free.

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