Thinkin' about that time when a high school friend decided she fell in love with me... 20-something years later.
I told her... I was solo polyamorous, had no plans for long-term romance, would play by my rules. She said yes, and I let myself fall for her, head over heels.
But she was afraid. And she wouldn't conquer her fear, and she listened to her "friends" and to anybody, it seems, who would tell her that I couldn't possibly love her.
She listened to them, and not to the guy who crossed oceans on a whim to be with her, who told her 1 month without seeing her was like a year dragging my carcass around a dump, who thought nothing of paying her way across that ocean or to Canada to recover that residence permit she had lost bc her parents had been sick. The guy that had remained friends with her across time, space and memory, for decades.
The guy that hadn't left her, hadn't given up on her, had proved loyalty, closeness, love.
She loved her fear far more than she did me. So much it makes me doubt that she did love me, as I am, as I presented myself. It is always their fear which wins, against all proof, all that's done, all that's offered. They always fall back to their fear, and the useless ceremonies to allay it, the rings, the papers, the "life plans"... useless because they seem ot feed the fear, not extinguish it; the jealousy, the suspicion, the mistrust never fades, until the last day.
When asked (like always) about "who would I love besides her"... I explained that she was the only one I could trust; the only one who had at least said "maybe" to respecting what I was, who I was. But in the end she also embraced her fear even though I had embraced her.
And so trust dies, like a cigarette paper thrown on a bonfire, the terrible fire of anger and betrayal.
As Mano de Piedra Durán once said, "no más". No more.
EDIT: Found the perfect song for this blog entry! "I wanna ruin our friendship... we should be lovers instead" ROFLMAO that's exactly what she did