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here-i-acquit-myself · 4 years

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Longest, rambling post of my life. But I have hope that if I write it all down, I can somehow move past it, and then maybe my art, writing, friendships, and relationships won’t suffer anymore.

Some things you should know before I even start:

- I have ALWAYS been poly. I have been in poly relationships since I was 19 (I am almost 27). It hasn’t been easy, I’ve learned a lot and made a lot of mistakes, but I’ve never hidden it from anyone. At this time in my life, two years or so ago, I had two live-in partners and we were a triad. I had been with one partner for seven years, I had been with the other about three. When the subject of this narrative (Louis) and I got together, they were ALSO dating someone else. They had a girlfriend. I had met their girlfriend, I knew they were together and I was fine with it (of course).

- Louis and I are multiple, which some of you probably know what that means without me having to explain it and some of you are probably like ????? the fuck. It’s something I don’t really want to talk about because I don’t feel like defending my head, but if I can boil it down to bare bones for the sake of the narrative, just know that it means both of us come with handfuls of extra people and they have relationships with each other as well.

- Obligatory - there are two sides to every story, this is just mine. I handled a lot of things badly in this situation, but I still need to let these feelings out. I need to feel heard because one thing about Louis is our mutuals will never, ever see some of these things about them. Everyone loves them and thinks they’re a bright spot of sunshine. Which is fine. But it would be nice to be believed after so much public suffering and humiliation.

The Narrative:

I met Louis three (almost four) years ago because we worked the same job. We were friends. I thought they were so cool and just really wanted them to like me. I also had a crush on another coworker (Armand), and the three of us were friends.

About two years ago, Louis invited Armand and I over for dinner and a movie. Louis’ house is very small and only has a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. So we were sitting in the bedroom, on the bed, watching movies. I was extremely nervous because I had such a crush on both of them. (To my knowledge, at the time, Louis was in a monogamous relationship and I respected that, I never made a move). It was getting really late, and after what felt like hours of my working up the nerve, I finally summoned enough courage to hold Armand’s hand. It got better - he WANTED to hold my hand. I was overjoyed, even more so when he leaned over to give me a kiss. Louis was absolutely livid. He got up and left the room, left the house. I wasn’t quite sure why he was upset (maybe he didn’t want us kissing in his room?) Armand went out to talk to him but he wasn’t feeling incredibly communicative. We all ended up sleeping in the same bed anyway, hoping in the morning he would tell us what was wrong. We all had work the next day.

We were all VERY close at this point, so it was unusual for us not to speak at work. Louis did not say a WORD. He did not speak to us at all. He looked like he was going to cry the entire time. Armand and I could not get him to say a word to either of us.

I know this is a whole lot of set-up, but it really sets the tone for the entire relationship.

It comes out at the end of the day that Louis was upset because HE had a crush on ME. And when I kissed Armand it felt like the ultimate betrayal. We all talked about it and it eventually boiled down to, why does it have to be this way? Why don’t I date both of them? I really liked both of them. Armand had very strong feelings for Louis. Louis had strong feelings for me. Armand and I had already expressed our feelings for each other. It seemed like a seamless transition.

And we were all happy! For like, I don’t know, two weeks? Louis started asserting his boundaries. He did not want Armand and I to hold hands while we were all out in public together. He wanted us to keep PDA to a minimum altogether. It started involving the headspace (where X from his headspace did not want X from my headspace to be in a relationship with anyone Armand had). (And, as an extra note, my headspace is full of poly people as well. I have NEVER taken kindly to anyone trying to enforce monogamy on them). Armand and I tried to work around everything, but just a couple months into the relationship it was all too much. With Louis breaking down almost every time I visited him, saying it hurt too much, he could not stand my relationship with Armand, etc. I ended up breaking down and breaking up with Armand, I could not take the pressure, and Louis’ struggles with the relationship and his rules and his breakdowns were haunting me even in bed. It absolutely sucked the joy out of dates and overnights. And in hindsight, I fucked up pretty badly with this one.

After Armand and I broke up, my relationship with Louis drastically changed, and I mean, everything was good for a while. My relationship with my now-husband got back on the rails and started greatly improving (we had been on the rocks for a while), although my relationship with my then-wife was starting to decline (it’s oversimplifying a lot but I’m trying to stay focused on the key points). Louis and my husband (James) started dating each other as well. I was like, this is perfect! The three of us had an intense relationship, and it got very domestic very quickly. We even started talking about everyone moving in together. Even though things were far from perfect, they were just perfect enough that the weird rules and limitations that were still in place seemed like reasonable limits that I was just overreacting to.

This is all glossing over a very important undercurrent: the idea that his mental health was more important than anyone else’s. HIS needs were special, HE needed more consideration, HE deserved special treatment because he has BPD. (Note: he talks about his BPD like I have never known another goddamn person in this world with BPD. I have known several people, including my mother, and none of them act like he does). So in his mind, sure there were rules but there were always to be exceptions at his discretion, because he HAD to be the exception, goddamn it.

And then it just all went hideously South. I am not privy to all of the details of what went wrong (or if I’ve been told the details I have absolutely lost them in the vacuum of my “HIDE ALL OF THAT BAD THINGS” brain), but Louis and James broke up. It was a big time, messy breakup. Now I’m torn between the two houses. I’m spending almost every other night with Louis.

And the breakdowns just get more and more frequent. He can’t STAND that I’m still with James. He doesn’t understand how I could be with someone who hurt him so much (and James doesn’t understand how I could be with someone who hurt him so much, either). He’s cutting again, threatening suicide again. There are countless times when I’m called to his house in the middle of the night, breaking through his door and into his bathroom because he has swallowed a bunch of pills, or because he is trying to cut himself open in his bathtub. There were numerous times where I was calming him down, bandaging him up, taking him to bed. This became like, a weekly occurrence.

And things became bad at work, too. He was ALWAYS blowing up at me at work I work retail, so I would be on the register and he would be blowing up my phone. He would get mad at me if I did not read and reply to his messages, and usually when I did that, I just got so upset that I would cry. I cried in front of customers. I had to excuse myself from the register to go cry behind the building. Sometimes, I would start my shift with him saying “I’m done. It’s over. (RE: We are breaking up)” so I would go through my whole shift with this “we are broken up” argument, although he would still be texting me, berating me, and then by the end of my shift he doesn’t want to break up with me, he needs me, he’s having a panic attack, he’s going to hurt himself. And there were a few times I got fed up and tried to end it myself, but I ALWAYS caved because I thought he was going to hurt himself.

I was just never, never enough. I spent so much time trying to be a good partner and give everyone my attention like 100% of the time I neglected my art, my writing - he was jealous of people I made art or wrote for that I wasn’t even with. I had made a lot of strides with my own mental health but I was having immense breakdowns because I could not take it.

He did not want James and I to get married. He said he would break up with me if we did, even though it made financial / practical sense. (He acknowledged that it did, too, he just did not want it to happen).

(SIDE STORY: James and I are (legally) married. We have not had a ceremony yet because of -gestures to entire narrative-. My then-wife (Claire) and I had a wedding ceremony years ago but never made it legal. During THAT ceremony, our at the time mutual girlfriend attended the wedding and was very supportive of us and our special day. With Louis, I never asked for that kind of involvement, I never asked him to do anything that made him uncomfortable as far as even acknowledging my marriage to James - in the past Louis and I had even talked about having a ceremony of our own, because I believe in celebrating love and flaunting my partners and parties, of course. I did not really even ask for his support or blessing, it’s just I had had such a positive experience with multiple partners supporting each other in the past that this just like - blew my mind out of the water).

I think the last straw was one night, Louis broke a special mug to use the glass to cut himself. He wanted to kill himself. I went to his house in the middle of the night, I don’t drive so James had to wake up our son and drive me there. James drove home, I calmed Louis down, put him to bed, confiscated the glass so he could not hurt himself again and put it all in a bowl. So I’m standing on the porch, in the cold, shivering and barely verbal with a bowl full of broken, bloody glass - taking an Uber home in the middle of the night.

It was like that for a while, stuck in a loop of “we are breaking up - now things are okay - no, things are bad again, we are breaking up - things are back to being okay”. I think the last straw was when he broke up with me on New Year’s Eve. I told him “if you break up with me, that’s it, we are broken up. I’m not doing this anymore”. And it was over. For a little while.

But we still worked together, and feelings were still very raw. I still felt responsible for his mental health. He spent a while avoiding me, he would not talk to me, when he did start talking to me again it was evident that we still had feelings for each other, but maybe he knew I still felt responsible. He would still tell me when he was cutting, when he felt like killing himself. Work was hell for a little while and I felt even more isolated than before. All of my coworkers think he’s great and I knew none of them would believe me if I tried to confide in even one of them what he was putting me through.

I kept trying to distance myself from him and from the things he was doing and saying. One day he called out of work and said he was going to stay home and kill himself instead. I ended up neglecting my shift to call the police and have them show up at his house to do a wellness check. (NOTE: I do not trust police and was very conflicted about calling them at all, but there wasn’t a lot I could do and he said he had swallowed a whole bottle of pills). After they left he was mad at me.

Glossing over a lot - but we did not stay broken up long. We got back together only a few months ago. It was an even more difficult, strained relationship this time around (although I’m not saying that no part of it was good, I mean, we genuinely had some good times and some wonderful aspects of the relationship. It just, as always, gets buried underneath the shit. I really LOVE this man, okay, we have something special, but he rakes my mental health over the coals again and again). Because of his (now non-existent) relationship with James, everything that had been bad before was getting amplified. At this point in my life, Claire and I had ended our relationship and become just friends. James and I were together, and I had another long-distance partner (William) who I had dated in the past and recently we had come back together.

Well, okay, Louis does not really like either William or James. He also does not like it when I casually flirt or send nudes to other people (which I have done my whole life, and have made clear I do, no one comes into a relationship with me ignorant of the fact that I am still in my ho phase and I enjoy recreational flirting and nude exchanges). He wants my nudes to be special for him, he says that knowing other people have seen my boobs makes him sad.

At this point, it does not matter if we are having a bad night or a good one. We could be cuddling and watching a show and he will just turn to me and tell me that he will be sad when we break up, but we are going to have to break up, because he can’t live like this. I would ask him why we are still together if he wants to break up, and he’s like, he doesn’t WANT to, he just knows we will. (That fucks with me? Understandably, I feel). He becomes more and more insistent that James and I break up. Louis wants to be my one special partner and wants everyone else to be a casual side piece. (Even though, EVEN THOUGH, he has cried to me many times about feeling insignificant, about feeling like a side piece, about feeling like a mistress - which I have absolutely paid attention to and tried to remedy at eVERY TURN by giving him way more than I think was fair to my other partners).

Our relationship recently came to a head (again). I have been given the opportunity to move to my hometown (a few hours away) for Cosmetology school. In the beginning, I was not sure of where i was going to be, if I was going alone, or what was going to happen. Louis said he did not think our relationship would survive if I brought James with me. Because my experience talking to him about things as they develop has always been bad (and because our state is in lockdown, I have not been able to see him) I didn’t communicate my plans very well as they developed, and when he heard that James, the baby, and I were all moving together that was kind of it. He asked me “What are you going to do to prevent a breakup?” and I just kind of lost my shit. I was done, so completely done, and exhausted. So I broke it off and haven’t really been texting him. Because if I text him, I get nauseous, and I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks. I’m like, running on four hours of sleep at best most days. His boys will reach out to mine, because he knows my boys are weak and brokenhearted and they will talk even if I won’t. And then he has the audacity to text me, “X is upset at being neglected, but I’ve stopped caring tbh”. And I just feel so fucking godawful all the time. He won’t hesitate to tell me he is cutting, he is going to kill himself, he is drinking all of the time and he won’t stay sober.

I have told him, multiple times, that I need an equal partner. I need a partner who will support me as much as he expects to be supported. He has told me flat out “I can’t do that”.

I am ready to leave this city. There is a lot I did not even talk about, but these are, I guess, the major points I replay over and over in my head when I can’t sleep at night. Maybe I am my own worst enemy for perpetuating the cycle. I know there are a lot of points in the past where I could have brought my foot down and maybe stopped it from getting worse, but I’ve felt stuck, I still feel stuck. And I’m always going to feel responsible. Of course, this is all the bad stuff, it doesn’t really talk about all of the GOOD stuff we have. There is lots of good stuff. But I don’t think the good stuff can hold up against all of the messy, toxic shit. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong?

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