Today is the day for checking out my uterus and fallopian tubes. I’m afraid it’ll hurt. I’m afraid they don’t find anything that can be fixed. We made an agreement with the nurse that I get a valium or diazepam with my painkiller so I’m able to go through with it. Wonderboy’s going to be there.
And still I am afraid. I couldn’t get sleep last night picturing what it must feel like. What it means to me.
I woke up this morning from a horrid dream. It left me feeling freaked out to the point of a real anxiety attact, which I’ve avoided reading about handling jealousy in a poly arrangement. What helps, helps.
In the dream Wonderboy had fucked another woman on a cruice ship. They’d been staying in the same cabinet, and she was in the lower bunk. This is actually someone Wonderboy used to have feelings for before he met we. (When he met me.) A girl that attacked me violently later on in bar dance floor, after we’d been together for a time and were engaged already. She had curly hair and big boobs and a very flat but wide ass. Now I know these are things Wonderboy actually likes in a way he can’t help. I just thought she was tacky, and really, wouldn’t you, if someone attacked you and then later you’d find out it was someone your spouse used to have a crush on?
Interestingly enough, in the real situation I attacked her too before I knew why she was violent. I couldn’t let her just abuse me like that without a response. But when Wonderboy came to break it up, covered me, lead me back to our table and told me this was the girl she’d mentioned… My first reaction was to ask, if he really wanted to be with her. Her violence was to me such a strong indicator of her entitlement to him that I somehow deducted that he would actually still be in love with her. And I wanted nothing to do with him, if he did. For the briefest moment there I was bracing myself for letting him go, since he obviously was in love with someone else. That’s the way my brain works.
Maybe that’s the way my brain works, like, all the time. If he’d want to fuck someone else, he must want to be with someone else. Not me. I’ll let him go then, if that would be the case. It’d break my heart, but what else could I do. But if he’s mine, and if I am his? There can be no one else. How would I be his exactly, if there were? How would he be mine?
Back to the dream. In it he was not really even apologetic about it. His answer to my question about using a condom was: I forgot it in the hotel and a boyish grin. Then more revelations came. He had just fucked her even though he wasn’t sure, if she was awake. His defence was that he thought she was eating nuts in her bed. (My imagination is a mutherfucker, ain’t it?)
Now I started hitting him on the chest and on his face with my palm. I started to shout at him. How could you? Do you realize you’re a rapist now? I ended up chasing him with a scary old steak knife, although even in the dream I knew I wouldn’t do anything with it when I caught him.
Suddenly I realized I didn’t have to hit him. I didn’t have to punish him or make him understand what he’d done. I just couldn’t be with him anymore. It wasn’t a relief, it was a fact. There was nothing that could fix this one for me. It was lost.
I woke up to the realization. I looked out the window, rainy, gloomy skies and rain falling, hitting the window when the wind caught it.
He asked me this after we’d had the conversation about fucking other people and decided we couldn’t. Or that I couldn’t.
What would you do, if you found out there was some other guy, who could make you pregnant?
What do you mean? I asked with a little gentle smile on my lips.
If someone else could make you pregnant… he answered only by repeating himself.
You mean would I have a baby with someone else?
His eyes were filled with worry and fear.
I don’t want a baby with someone else. I want a baby with you. I love you. You’re the one who is miraculous to me.
Miraculous, he laughed a bit relieved and hugged me.
What if my sperm is all bad? he asked then the great fear in his voice.
We’ll figure something out. I only want you. You are the best person to love and live with in case we don’t have children, I’m sure of that. And then I cried. We hugged and told each other consoling things in the dark.
There is too much hurt there. Too much of a crumbling identity. Too great a fear of abandonment. He would let me go, to get what I need. I would let him go, to get what he needs. To be together we need to know that this is what you need. That is just the way we are built. This is what I need to feel safe and loved in a relationship. To feel completely owned.
I don’t have to change that. I don’t have to change.
Today we find out. I’m scared. I’m so scared.