For the last 10 days, I’ve been living on my own with two cats. It’s been a very reflective time. I’ve managed to look deep inside me and find what really makes me tick.
Amidst other things, I discovered I have a foot fetish.
I also discovered that I couldn’t not be in an open relationship – and that has absolutely fuck all to do with sex.
I’ve spent the last few days not really seeing anyone. Apart from the cats. And the lady I bought a coffee from. From Saturday evening to Tuesday evening, I saw no one.
It made me feel very lonely.
What, I asked myself, was the point of being in a relationship with a beautiful Russian Someone if you’re not going to get to see her? What was the point if, whenever I did see Someone, we had a fight? What was the point of being in a relationship where it feels like there’s nothing to talk about?
It took a long time for me to realise how – as usual – everything is linked together.
Being lonely is a choice: a choice to not like who you are and a choice to not see the people that matter to you. And I constantly wanted to choose to be with Someone – because she makes me happy, because I am content doing typical, monogamous couple things with her.
Or so I told myself.
Because I really don’t. I don’t like sitting around watching TV night after night doing fuck all. I don’t like waiting at home for her to come back and all we do is talk about her work or mine. I constantly want more than that.
We’d been doing those things a lot. And they’d been accidentally causing fights: neither of us were satisfied with what we were giving and getting from our relationship. We wanted more.
And the beauty of being in an open relationship is the complete and utter freedom to have more.
Last night, I spent the end of one year and start of another in the company of a very cute, very inexperienced, very fun, very drunk girl. I had probably drunk too much to be in complete control of my desires, so I really, really wanted to kiss her.
But taking advantage of drunk girls is something I think is totally despicable. So I was – for the most part – able to completely ignore my desires and focus on cuddles and talking about cool things like boys and fantasy books.
And I realised something pretty special.
Because I was in an open relationship, I could completely relax. I didn’t have to worry about what I could or couldn’t do: I was controlled only by my alcohol-riddled morals (I don’t actually have morals though). So I could make the choice to look beyond her simple sexual appeal and go “wow, you’re actually a really awesome person to talk with.”
It was such a breath of fresh air.
I’m finding this very difficult to articulate. Perhaps because it’s 00:32 and I’ve only had about 5 hours sleep this year. But this, for me, is exactly what being in an open relationship is all about. It’s about the freedom. It’s about choosing who you spend your time with. It’s about knowing that there is someone there for you whenever you need them. It’s about having the chance to choose to be with whom I want – even when that person is wonderful me.