Nearly ten years later- the post i’ve been putting off for many years now

It’s October. In any other year, the rains would have started, we’d be grabbing our hoodies before heading out the door and orbweavers would be everywhere- most notably in your face when you walk out the door ’cause that’s just what the orbweavers of the Pacific Northwest do.

Instead, we’re stuck in this purgatory that’s somewhere between summer and not quite autumn. The highs are in the high 60s to the low 70s (usually the latter) and most of us are wearing shorts by the middle of the day. As these sorts of things go, the weather is pleasant but the ground is dangerously dry and crunky. Any errant spark has the potential to burn fields and trees to ash. I have a cherry tree in my yard that’s dying- and while it might be due to any one of a myriad of reasons, the resounding lack of rain we’ve endured for months is likely to be one of, if not THE, reason for its ongoing demise.

But none of that is why i’m writing tonight.

I have a box of old drives that i no longer use. Unfortunately it’s the same box of drives that i look at and think, “I’m /DEFINITELY/ going to sort the files on those drives this winter!” Whereupon I do many things but sorting files on old drives is not one of them.

Perhaps its synchronicity, perhaps coincidence or perhaps it’s something else more mundane such as finally getting off my ass but going through these drives has reminded me that years and years ago, i made a promise to finally post about the absolute fucking madness and stupidity that happened to me nearly a decade ago.

It was a breakup with someone that absolutely cost my dignity, my self respect, my objectivity and then when she broke up with me (over the phone, no less), it would cost me my job and for a while, my grip on reality. On that last point, it’s difficult to say to what extent i’d strayed from reality because while i was in counseling at the time, the conversations then were about grief. Looking back, i wish i had spoken to a psychiatrist. I have no evidence that it would have altered much but as bad of shape as i thought i was in at the time, it was far, far worse.

I think it’s important to make a couple of comments before i go much further. The first is that it may take me weeks, months or maybe even years to finish this post. I may add to this one but i may make others and reference this one.

The other thing that comes to mind is there’s another person in this story. He’s a dangerously broken person with a satyr level libido that motivates him to fuck and control as many women as humanly possible- and always under the guise of, “freedom,” “femininity,” “progressiveism,” and that apex silly ass manufactured word from the pseudo culture of polyamory, “agency”. And yeah, i know a lot of non poly’s say “agency” as though it means something but the word that should be used is, “autonomy”. Unfortunately in the world of polyamory, it’s a heavily used buzzword to justify bad behavior, shitty behavior and/or unethical behavior.

Case in point, soon after the breakup ten years ago, i was telling a guy that my ex left me to be a swinger and live out her life being gang banged, to which his response to me… and i am not fucking exaggerating one iota on this… he looks at me and says, “Oh, she decided to practice her agency.”

Pause button.

I’ve just used a lot of words and made mention of a lot of things. It’s time for me to rewind a bit and go over some things without going too deep down the rabbit hole.

In that relation, we were in a polyamorous arrangement. The fact you’re on a computer or mobile means you have some computer literacy. You’re welcome to go to Google to find out what that means if you’re not familiar with the concept. I’ll certainly take time at some point and discuss what it was that appealed to me about that dynamic but it’s going to have to go into another post.

There are so many… absolutely so many things that i could go over about that relationship, the breakup and the aftermath but instead, i wanted tonight to start with this. This was perhaps the thing- the one thing that caused me so much grief and anguish at the time. It was this:

How does someone that’s seemingly decent, kind and a very good lover (and probably the best kisser i’ve known) go from being a girlfriend that was my closest friend, who talked about marriage, who wanted to take my name (something that is unimportant to me in marriage and absolutely not required), who loved being affectionate, silly, doing things together, doing things apart and who wanted to spend her life with me – and then how do you go from being that person to someone that declared to me that she was going to be a swinger and go to sex clubs with her other boyfriend, that she was going to be gang banged (like her mother) as a, “one time thing or perhaps a lifestyle,” (like her mother) and whose last words to me when she broke up with me over the phone (after four and a half years together) were, “Shelly, I am oh so smart and there are so many things that I want to do and experiences that I want to have and I just don’t see that you have a place in my future anymore.”

If i just made you stop and think to yourself (or maybe even say out loud), “What in the ever living fuck did I just read?” Let me assure you, as much of a fucking trainwreck of stupidity it is, it was far, far worse to live through.

But, but i got my answer. I didn’t want to believe it at the time in part because it seemed so unreal, in part because i honestly believed she was stronger and smarter than she turned out to be and because i was so broken at the time.

I was back on the dating site where i initially met her when i absolutely should not have been. I think i’ve made it clear that i was really messed up back then so i’m not going to belabor the point anymore. I will say that during this time, despite being on that site, i did not date anyone. This one of the times in my life where my naturally low charisma actually did me a favor.

There are two things to mention about this site (i’m not going to mention it by name because it’s turned into an utterly pathetic money grab operation that uses unethical practices and is now designed to appeal to the fucking “swipe left to reject and swipe right to like,” culture.

The first thing to mention is that it’s free. There’s a paid tier but you can always join for free.

The second thing to mention is that there are a significant number of people on there that are into or interested in polyamory. The buzzword phrase often used is, “ethical non-monogamy” which covers polyamory but can also cover swinging or some other form of high volume sport fucking, if both partners acquiesce.

At the time, i still had polyamory in my profile on this site. I kind of cringe at that but at the time, it was a label i was comfortable with. One evening, i receive a message from someone- Ivy? Ash? Willow? I want to say the name was plant or tree related but i don’t remember. Back then you could have a nom de plume as your name. Now you can’t. Oleander? Orchid? Sigh… i don’t know.

We had a topical back and forth and she began to ask me about my experiences and thoughts on polyamory. And i… oh boy. Remember that part when i said i was a mess and that i wasn’t going to belabor the point anymore? The biggest difference between now and then is that now i don’t want to talk about it (although i laugh about it now and then). Hell, it’s taken me this long just to write about ONE aspect of this time of my life. But back then, back then i was unable- mentally and emotionally incapable of NOT talking about it to anyone that would listen.

I explained to her my situation without scaring her off. Good thing, too ’cause what came next was the key to this mystery that would take me years to accept.

Ivy (I’ll just call her, “Ivy” because, fuck it. It’s only three letters) discloses to me that she’s a sociology student and not looking to date. I’m okay with this and tell her, “What would you like to know?” and she asks what about it (polyamory) appealed to me, what i found in others (spoiler alert: human wreckage, deep insecurities and people that usually can’t tell the difference between love and being fucked. There are exceptions but they are few and far between) and anything related to understanding the concept and behaviors associated with it.

And as i’m telling her my story, she shares some of her observations and experiences. She mentions the Seattle poly scene and so on a lark, i sent her a link to a pic of my ex next to her other boyfriend (who would become her “master”, which i’ll eventually explain) and his other girlfriend. I’ll call her, “Ashley,” because that’s about the most fucking white trash name around and along with her white trash master, “Clevon”, Ashley was every part his white trash equal.

I remember she didn’t respond immediately but when she did it was succinct.

“Oh. Him.”

And then she handed me the key.

Being a sociology student, it was easy for her to attend poly events. I don’t know how it is now but at the time, both Portland, OR and Seattle, WA had a very high number of polys. As Clevon (not his real name but he’s low rent white trash so he gets a low rent white trash nickname) was known to do, he cornered Ivy. This was a common tactic he engaged in. Find a woman that was willing to talk to him and then instigate a conversation without any regard to her reciprocity, interest and/or body language. I’ll have to explain what he did to a young roommate of my ex’s in my Clevon post.

Given this was a poly event, it was probably a pretty safe bet that Ivy was someone he could talk to. As Ivy recalled this conversation, she told me he seemed stoned and/or having some sort of mental episode. Now i can’t prove it but having watched this guy a few times do some odd shit when he was NOT stoned or drunk and he displayed some really strange behaviors. Don’t know which chapter(s) of the DSM he would qualify for nor am i going to try and armchair diagnose him but it was clear to me (and others, including my ex’s best friend) that he was not wired right. Case in point, i watched him dry hump his girlfriends blue jeans covered leg to orgasm while she was watching TV. And yes, that is exactly what he did. While she was watching TV on a Saturday morning, he proceeded to rub his face against her while grinding his willy (while clothed) against her denim covered leg until he orgasmed. You may think, “Well, that’s just what white trash does,” and maybe you’d be right but to me it seems that it was both trashy AND some sort of mild episode.

Going back to what i was talking about. Ivy made mention that he had a glazed, slightly crazy look about him along with some energy that made her very, very uncomfortable… that kind of uncomfortable that every woman eventually knows because some guy that’s cornered them is scaring the ever living fuck out of them: rapey vibes.

And before she finally managed to move away from him, he gave her the piece of the puzzle that was missing.

And with that, i’m going to have to end it because it’s a Sunday evening. 04.30 comes early and i’ve got a full week of shit to deal with.