Promises, promises.

Or what I'd do differently...or, "my conscience and a nearly broken promise".

Hrmm...maybe "The Last Supper" would be more apt.  Semantics.  Fuck it.

So I'm carrying along in my weird hyperactive, intense, blissful, and as-yet-unidentified slightly obsessed escapist state...yes, I know, what could possibly go wrong.

This whole "opening up" journey has been an interesting one, to say the least.  The first times out (and yes, the first times when it comes to sex, intimacy, and the whole shebang) were a bit tenuous, I'll say.  Really, you're out there getting to know someone, but at first there's a nagging -- "is this really going to be ok at home?" and so on.  It doesn't really matter whether I'm ok with what my wife might do -- it's more a matter of whether I feel entitled or ok with the same, or whether she'll really be ok with it.

When we decided to open up, it was with the understanding that this was a first for us, and that either of us could veto the whole endeavor if we so chose -- if it wound up not being the fit for us that we thought it would be, for example.  Well, this came back to bite me in the ass.  More than once.  I've learned a number of lessons as a result of it, thank god, and am a much better person for it, although I am a bit more of a bastard, too.

I'd never really had to stand my ground on anything so significant at home before -- I generally got what I wanted, or at least something that would do just fine, without any confrontation.  I've always felt that it's pointless to fight over every little thing -- what a state to be in, really...save the battles for things that really matter...at least the person's more likely to know that you mean business, and that it's not just another everyday conflict.

I wanted to be able to make plans with my new girl -- a reasonable request, I think.  How the hell are you going to be able to see anyone, if you can't make plans?  In particular, I wanted to go to my new friend's for dinner on a given night later in the week.  My wife was in a rough patch, didn't like the planning thing, and didn't want me to go.  I stuck up for my right to go, but since I'd never been in this sort of situation before, I didn't quite know how to react, and it wound up playing out in a highly erratic fashion...snippets of cryptic communication here and there...basically, a hyper mess from uncertainty and adrenaline.  It was ugly.  I was ugly.  Fuck.

There is more to the story, so I may get back to it later.  For now though, onward.

Dinner came and went.  It was delicious, but the atmosphere was a little weird.  Something wasn't quite right.  I had a sense of what was going on, but had no idea how to fix it.  I wanted to let my girl know that everything would be fine, and that I was there for her, and would be there for her.  No surprise, it came out all wrong, and was likely too late anyways.

My wife wanted me to always do what was right for me, regardless of whether it was right for her.  This was my first foray into that arena.  It was a mess.  She wanted to call veto nonetheless, not for any resentment of who I was with or what I was doing, but for the erratic person I'd become, although that wouldn't come to light until later on.  This consumed me for a couple of days, with a conflict raging between what I wanted vs. what I'd promised -- the right to veto.

In the end, it was envisioning the roles reversed that did it -- what if I was the one that wanted to call veto?  I could only imagine the sense of betrayal that I'd have felt if such a call had been met with a "No".  I agreed to taking a step back, or at least slowing things down, to be able to take a look at the big picture and see what there was to see.  Really, more than anything I wanted to buy time, hoping that she would see my side of the equation, and consider how she would feel if the roles were reversed, relating to one of her other interests.

Never again.  No fucking way.  It was crushing to be torn apart like that.  It wouldn't be fair to whoever I was with for that cropping up to be a possibility.  Hell, in the end, it wasn't fair to me.  Where I stand now, thankfully, this won't be a bridge I have to cross again.  Ever.  I'm open to the possibilities, but I won't let anything move forward without a few key understandings in place all around first.