Loss

My affair with Serena is flickering out, and the pain has been overwhelming. I’ve kept my thoughts hidden, too raw and vulnerable. Now, I’m torn between rage and terror, emotions that clash with my rational understanding.

‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

Reconciling myself to the inevitability of imperfection, the certainty of loss.

In which I realize some things about how I’m crazy, revisiting ancient wounds of loss.

Thinking about fucking. And anger. Mostly, anger.

When women disappoint me once, they almost always do it again. And again. And again. And still? I keep going back for more. Though less than before.

My crazy experience of loss and fear.

Does polyamory protect against loss? I think not….

Living in fear of the past….

Coming apart, just a little, afterwards….