Notes On Having a Lover

Wanting you has woken up a desire in me that I have going back to a time before I can remember talking.

I can see clearly that you don’t need me like I seem to need you. Part of me must make that ok, right? I’m a single woman. I can do life. I can pay my own bills and I can take care of my family. I created this life. I have close friends who love me. I have a family who watches out for me, and I have kids who adore me. I don’t need anyone else, right? Don’t we all need to fulfill ourselves? Don’t we all need to be happy on our own? Isn’t that the whole hype of singledom?

Husband 1 called me needy for 12 years. I know he was wrong, I know I deserve love, duh, yet every so often when I really let myself want, I hear his words and wonder if he was right. You see, Husband 1 confirmed the story I told myself that I would never be loved the way I want.

When I was young, I mean really young, I viscerally loved, then lost, my dad. It may be cliché and sound like just another girl with daddy issues, but to me it’s not. To me it’s true. Loving him, then losing him is at my core of loving a man. Words don’t describe it, feelings do.

How can I capture a little girl’s love affair with her daddy? It would be something like this:

I’m excited to see him then elated when he arrives. I jump up in a hug as I spot him. Finally! He tickles me and cuddles me. He makes me laugh so hard. He is so funny! You’re funny, Daddy!!! There is nothing I would change. He is perfection. My favorite. When he is here the world is right. I am safe. He is everything fun, expansive, magical, beautiful. He is love.

Then he is gone.

At first, I’m ok. They say he won’t come back, but I know he will. I don’t believe them. They are wrong. He lives here. He loves me. I know he does. He’ll be back. I’ll show them all and then they will realize how special I am to him. But eventually it dawns on me that they are right. There is truth to their words. He isn’t coming back. The love that I know to be true was wrong. How could this be? What about me? What about us?

I feel utter heartbreak. He’s not coming back. I wander around the house looking for him, crying. I walk from room to room. Not in there. No, not in there, either. I’m sobbing. The wrong people are here. I don’t want them. I want Daddy. They don’t understand. They aren’t Daddy. Nobody is Daddy. It is excruciating. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. It all hurts. It is a nightmare and I can’t wake up.

The only thing that makes sense is how much I love him. He is so fun and cool. Everyone else loves him, too. Look how he makes everyone laugh! Look how he is everyone’s favorite! Of course he doesn’t choose me. I’m special to him—I know—it’s just that so many others are special to him, too. I must wait my turn. So, I wait, excited whenever I see him. Proud that he’s my daddy. I wait for Wednesdays. When they finally come I’m giddy and remember, ‘oh! I’ll see him today!’ But then he’s grumpy or doesn’t like my smile or makes me leave him alone. It hurts over and over.

Somewhere along the way I realize, he doesn’t like me. I work hard to be charming and funny so I can get his attention and he enjoys me. I desperately want to be his girl. It becomes clear that he doesn’t like me all the time. I love him and he doesn’t love me. My worst fears are confirmed with the explanation from adults that ‘he doesn’t love me because he can’t love himself’. All my young brain hears is ‘he doesn’t love me.’ I don’t understand the rest. How does someone love themself, anyway? I leave the lesson with this: Don’t try to win his heart. He will hurt me. He will love me then he will leave me. I will love him more than he loves me. Find someone else, someone less like Daddy.

So I did. I avoided them. Ha! A couple snuck in, but I nipped them in the bud and eventually settled down with good, respectable men who wouldn’t leave me. Men whose devotion to me was the anchor of how I felt loved in the relationship. It’s a bit narcissistic, isn’t it? To love someone simply because they love me.

I had a pretty good run. I was deeply loved by safe men who eagerly pursued me. But you know what? Spending time in a relationship with someone with whom I’m only mildly drawn to can be incredibly boring. Talking myself into someone is dreary and meek. I’m exhausted to date anyone I’m not intensely drawn to. If that is my option, I would prefer to be alone. So I have been alone, for the last 3 years.

Then I met Bro.

He’s polyamorous.

He has a live-in partner.

I will never be his favorite.

And I Want him. I want him.

I want him in ways I can’t articulate and just sound superficial. The way his armpits sweat. His tall body. Hearing him pee in my house.

To say I’m attracted to him is an understatement. My stomach tingles whenever I think of him touching me. I feel a jolt of electricity if I see his name or if I have something I want to tell him.

Then there’s the interesting human that is in there, too. His soft responses when I share things. I know he’s safe in ways the facts don’t justify. He’s intelligent, emotionally. He’s supportive. He’s encouraging. He doesn’t rush me. He doesn’t seem to care if he doesn’t hear from me for a while. Who is this magical being? I’ve spotted one in the wild!

Ooooooh, I am drawn to him. All these fascinating qualities and sexy as hell to boot! It’s a dangerous combination. Especially dangerous if I’ll never be his favorite. Would I be able to handle that?

Am I drawn to him because he is polyamorous and has a live-in partner? In other words, am I drawn to him because I will never be his favorite? Am I setting out to self-fulfill my own prophecy of an intense love that will never be reciprocated? Am I allowing myself to fall into a dangerous combination of connected, exploratory sex and deep intimacy knowing I could fall harder than him?

This could devastate me. The way it devastated me the night after Charlie broke up with me.

Fuck it, I’m doing it. This is what life is about, right? Growth. Expansion. Adventure. Fun.

What if I lose my work spirit? What if I don’t sell any houses because I’m so sad and caught up in him?

I will work through whatever comes up. I will find ways to focus.

What if I spend so much time with him that I don’t see my friends or get to spend evenings alone?

I can find times to be with all the people I love.

Worst of all:  What if I am wrong? What if my instinct is wrong on this? What if I just make the ache worse?

I am being led here, now. For whatever reason, every part of this has felt right.

I trust him in a way I can’t explain. If I trust myself then I have no choice but to trust him.