Break Open

The last few days between Drew and I have been miserable but renewing.

Saturday was Wally’s bday party.  And Zach came.  And I was so in awe of how beautiful it was to have both he and Drew in the same room loving Wally.

But I didn’t warn Drew.

He’s been withdrawn lately.

And later I texted him and mentioned he’d been so far away from me lately.

Sunday he said he was deep in his sexuality confusion.  His options were to be gay, stay with me and hope things magically get better or end things.  And I wasn’t overly threatened, he goes through this pretty regularly.  I was supportive.  Gave him space.

He woke up Monday and said he wanted to know.  He wanted to know if he could make it with me.  But he’d been feeling really sexually incompatible.  He couldn’t commit to anything because he didn’t know what he wanted.  And I wanted to talk about separating.  And I was chill.  I felt free, actually.  I basically felt like, ok, dude.  You’re still here.  It’s been a year.  Let me go.  But he was insistent that he wanted to know if he could do it with me.  It hurt my feelings to hear him say in so many different ways that he doesn’t feel sexual compatible with me, but wants to try.  I felt exhausted and fed up.  Not mad.  Not resentful or blaming.  Just like, figure out what you want!

And so I kept saying things like, “hey, I love you, but let’s talk about splitting.”  And I honestly wanted to talk about it.  I wasn’t running.  I wasn’t making a call.  I just wanted us in or out.

And that upset him because he said I had let myself get frustrated or fed up to the point of break up without ever having set a boundary.

I could have been done.  Not angry.  Just shake hands, go separate ways.  I love you, but, not working.

But Drew said I was giving up hope on his ability to adjust and honor boundaries.  That I wasn’t giving him a chance.  That he’s opened the conversation by saying he wanted to try with me and that he had been sharing where he’d been.

By the end of the night, we were both like, hey let’s chill.  We might not work, but we also super might.  We are both totally ready to walk, but we are also both here.

He was kind and said he appreciated me.  He was glad I didn’t quit.  But encouraged by the fact that I wanted to break up.

The next day he talked about how I wasn’t interested in what he wanted sexually.  But he wanted to know if we overlapped.  But initially blamed me for not being interested or asked enough questions.

We decided to not quit.  But to talk about separating.

Wednesday we had angry words because I committed to dinner, but then I was afraid I’d be late.

We talked a lot last night.  We talked about breaking up.  I didn’t freak out or shut down or sob.  I felt sad throughout, but also ok.  We talked about sex and anger and breaking up and parenting or reparenting and moving in and rent.  And rested by each other.

And then he kissed me.  He reached for me.  I felt tense and unsure.  I wanted to connect but didn’t know what to do or how to find myself or him.  And eventually, I got passed it and into it.  But it was harder.  I felt awkward.  And I got on top and I knew I would come.  As I did, he told me he was going to come.  And he told me he was coming.  And as he was coming, he said, “I love you, Kate.”  And it felt like a knife cutting through any armor.  Both aggressive and safe.  And it stung.  I cried.  And he put his hands on my head and said: “I’ve got you.”

So.  I don’t know what happens now.  We aren’t breaking up.

I wish there was some way to know anything.

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