the property of closure

There comes a time where you have to stop whatever it is you're doing to think. 


You breathe in, and as you slowly, deliberately exhale, admit "my cup runneth over."


Good.


Now, how do you figure out what to do with that knowledge?








I seem to have some awkward perpetual bond with my very first love. I've been able to dispel most of the energy from other lovers, if I've felt it necessary. Not this one.


It's awkward in the sense that we've been broken up for a couple of years now, yet frequently talk to one another with a timid warmth indicative of a connection that has been worked on at length by dedicated parties. (Our conversation is also occasionally seasoned by the hurt we've placed upon each other over this time; let's not forget.)


Awkward in the sense that we'd had an off-again, on-again unparalleled romance over the course of the near decade that we've known each other. 


Awkward in the sense that the closest we've ever been to each other is when we decided to travel by plane or other mode of transportation. We do seem to have a knack, however, for tucking away and carrying memories in our pockets, which fly out and screech "hey! look at me!" right at moments when we've finally started to believe we've moved on.

April 2009, Griffith Park, Los Angeles, California

I think we've both made good-to-honest strides to distance ourselves from each other, because that's the healthy thing to do.* I'm in a long-term relationship with Anchor, someone I find myself even more smitten with today than when our friendship first began to take on much stronger, meaningful connotations. First Love is actively dating in his area.

It's hard to find a balance. Because this person still means so much to me, I don't wish to push him away. My life would be darker without him, no two ways about it. Still, I can't imagine how hard this has been for Anchor to process, mostly silently. I think about the crap he's had to take from me, my insecurities and my past, and I find it amazing he's around.

June 2010, private home, Portland, Oregon

The feeling of a stalemate on this subject is difficult to ignore. It leaves me frustrated, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. I have a habit of wanting to hammer at something until a solution produces itself, but not everything works out in that uniform a way. I may have to act somewhere in between being practical and being honest in the near future, and the part of me that chooses to act with my heart will absolutely hate the shit out of it. 


I can only hope that all of us come out of this as unscathed as possible, which seems silly seeing as pain has been entering from every avenue since this rift has formed.


I don't have all the answers. I was so sure I did as a kid, but boy was I wrong. Perhaps no one really does.

*While I have been in open relationships for years now, there are some lines that can't and shouldn't be crossed. Sometimes you have to choose, and live with whatever consequences may come with that choice. I have, and I am, and overall... I think I'm OK.

cities in common

Since last spring, I've completed two week-long trips to Boston. I might have just a tiny crush on the city.

I'd say that any time less than a week there wouldn't be fair - there's lots to take in (especially if you're from the west coast, as I am). Hell help you if you have people you know in the general Northeast area, not to mention if you happen to be travelling with someone who hails from the Northeast itself.

Boston is filled with gorgeous sights if you're lucky to catch it on a non-gloomy day, as is the case with the Northwest. Missing a glimpse of the Charles River is unacceptable. Taking the T can be quite the adventure in itself (as I can personally attest to after many mishaps on the Red). You'll also find yourself among some amazing food and drink, and insanely aggressive drivers. It is definitely a good time.


I did my second trip with my Anchor a week ago. It was a good time to take advantage of the opportunity to visit Connecticut for the first time, meet some new people and absolutely unparalleled new visions.

I have to say that the stuff I liked best about this Northeast trip were the chances I got in reconnecting with others - people who, for the most part, I'd met during my many years living in Los Angeles.

I am going to talk about three of them.



Gingerbread came to Boston on account of school, and is very passionately working at it.

He is one of the most mature teenagers I've had the pleasure of meeting, probably the result of lots of personal growth. Folks like Gingerbread just go to show you that people should not be immediately judged on the number of their years. I left our interactions feeling glad I'd reached out, and made a mental note to do more of it in the future.


Bubble made a short trip to meet me in Boston. Most of the time he was away soaking up the environment with an exciting new mademoiselle. He has the talent of coming off as full of positive energy, and he surrounds himself in a great percentage of it. I'd forgotten how easily he makes me smile with such little effort. It was truly a treat to chat with him, and I'm grateful the effort was made.


Last Chance was the one I ended being the most excited about, in the end. I'm not sure why, but our history in Los Angeles was fairly intense. Our correspondence hasn't always been strong, and I felt slightly disappointed when he chose his new home as Boston over Seattle (for obviously selfish reasons).

I can't explain why a casual trot turned into a good-to-honest sprint for a hug - in a hipster restaurant, no less. It didn't matter. I became captivated all over again, in the middle of a table of six, and digested more personal stories than I did any of the delectable food.



My last year in Los Angeles happened to be one of my most miserable. Bubble and Last Chance both contributed to bits of happiness I managed to snag along the way, so seeing them one after the other was overwhelming in the end.

I would do it all again.

I most likely will.



Boston being Anchor's old stomping grounds, it goes without saying that a trip to Los Angeles is long overdue. I suspended the idea of doing it in May because I felt going for an extended weekend wasn't enough for me. There are even more people to see than the ones I hooked up with (and didn't) in Boston, family, and those in between.

I don't regret leaving Los Angeles. It was time. Despite that, it is always good to return home for a while - a home in which I struggled, fought, sweated and bled. While I have forgiven all of those responsible (myself included), I don't risk forgetting the hard times, else I won't recognize the better ones when they come about.

out of the dark

To say 'it's not easy letting one person into your life' is quite the understatement. Truly. 


For many, it's impossible to let in more than one - a deal breaker, unspeakable, morally wrong, joked about. On the same token, I've read articles from seemingly militant polyamorous folks who feel that monogamy is 'stupid'. (Dan Savage, Monogamy vs Commitment)


It's a sensitive subject.


I'll count myself fortunate that the friends who've asked about my experiences with multiple partners (and are monogamous) have done so gently and respectfully. I try to answer every question as best as I can, and return that respect.


We humans are notoriously curious, after all; as long as there's no malice behind the curiosity, what's the harm in supplying the knowledge?


I cannot and will not in any way claim to be an expert on the matter, though. 


Whether you're monogamous or not, spending time with each lover is different. Each connection yields a multitude of feelings and lessons. Venturing into one relationship or more blindly is not recommended. (I can tell you that frankly, having unfortunately done so myself. Do yourself a favor - don't learn this the hard way, please! Study up. Ask questions.)






My last break-up was a rather nasty one. That can't be denied. Our modes of communication were not working well together and there was stress frequently, which began to affect me elsewhere. With that in mind, I took it upon myself to go slowly next time, at the pace I wanted to go, or one that was at least in sync with others in the relationship.


'Next time' came sooner than I expected. I met Shiny Girl briefly at a casual local women's poly and kink friendly event chatted me up online, which turned into meetings over meals, then watching feel-good movies snuggled up in private. Conversation laced with the occasional smile and nervous tripping over words ensued; generally a good time.


To be honest, I was all ready to distance the interaction at a friendship, but her efforts gave impetus to a deeper-than-surface bond. The more I talked to her, the more I wanted to know.


Shiny Girl's teaching me what it's like to be selfless without being entirely aware of it, which is just wonderful. She's also opening me up without pushing too hard, something I needed in another love interest. It has been nearly three years since my last serious girlfriend...


What's more is that my Anchor (whom I've been with for about 2 years now) gets on well with her, something that didn't have the chance to blossom with my ex. I feel a wave of relief come over me when I discuss Shiny Girl with him, and I don't have to remind him who she is. We've all met, spent time together, conversed online. I hope that we can do more of it soon.


No one is in a rush to achieve any ultimate goal. We can just go forward at a leisurely gait.


It's very early and I dare not press on this for fear of jinxing it, but I am very, very happy.






No, it's not easy. Hardly any of the best things are, but they're worth fighting for/working on if you think they are. It helps if you're not the only one in a party feeling that way.