What she said.

"Justice inclines her scales such that wisdom comes at the price of suffering." -Aeschylus

So, yeah, this wasn't a new sentiment by the time the Greeks wrote it down. Maybe Aeschylus had a drink with Confucius.

Anyway I'm with Chloe: this "gaining wisdom through pain" business is for the birds. To be fair, there is more than just pain lately: there have been some joyful moments, and as recently as two weeks ago we had most of a day-and-night of just us. But the last stretch of more than 24 hours when none of us was at work and no one else was with us -- a true Trifecta break -- was a month ago, and the interim has been difficult. Especially challenging is the vacation we're on now: in a remote cold place, in a small house with few rooms, with lots of family. Not much chance to get away, talk, process the new and old issues in our heads. Certainly no chance for sex. Not even more innocent intimacy. Red's parents are cool with our arrangement, but there are children present too, and they must be insulated absolutely. Not so young that clues would go over their heads, yet not old enough to understand, they are developmentally in a pretty black-and-white place. Confusion would be harmful. Plus, a vindictive other parent could make all of our lives hell. We have to be restrained, and we are. But it costs. Oh, it costs.

When I realized the other night just how crushing it was for Chloe to see an ordinary expression of affection between me and Red and to think she will never have that ... it killed me. On the one hand, of course that "never" is not true. Eventually this will change. Eventually all of our close family and friends will be in the loop, and if they can't handle it, they may choose to be less close. I will not purposely push anyone away. But I will not ask Chloe to live as a second-hand citizen in my intimate life. It is not fair -- okay, life is not fair, but it is not at all equitable -- to expect her to be the one who's always left out in the cold.

Cold, sometimes, can be just the thing, though:




Yesterday we took a walk in the woods in the snow, just to get outside and clear our heads and have a few minutes to ourselves. It was bracing. And restorative. We saw deer (it looked as though the buck was actually annoyed with the fawn ahead of him, like "hey, slow the heck down, can't you see there are people over there?!? Sheesh, teenagers.") We saw perfect round flat frozen mushrooms. We spent a moment, just a moment, kissing in the cradle of a creekbed. And we documented the occasion by photographing our feet. That's a Chloe thing.

I love her so much. Have I mentioned that? I love her, and us, so much.

Yes, dear reader, there is drama. We haven't even touched on all of it -- there is all manner of potential impropriety, anguished moments between me and Red when Chloe isn't there, ongoing getting-accustomed-to us girls' evolving sexual identity.

Most of all, there is fear of the uncertain. The fuzzy unclarity of what's to come. But here is where high school honors English comes in handy. The second half of the quote above goes as follows:

"But as for the future, that you shall know when it occurs; till then, leave it be -- it is just as someone weeping ahead of time. Clear it will come, together with the light of dawn." -Aeschylus

Hear that, universe? I'm ready and waiting.

Gaining wisdom the hard way...as usual.

By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.    -Confucius

I feel like I'm accidentally on my way to being the wisest person in the history of mankind.  I imagine there is an alarm somewhere in the universe that goes off when it senses I'm happy and comfortable for too long a stretch of time...at which point some new and different type of anguish is rudely injected into my life.


Don't get me wrong - I dislike people who sulk and complain and wait for others to cheer them up.  I know how ridiculously fortunate I am, and I also realize that I (and only I) have the power to change the things in my life that I don't like.  But every once in a while I'm blindsided.


Let the sulking and complaining commence.


Sadly, since I'm the third and Missy & Red are married, I will always be the one who (in public, at least) can't just walk up and hug either of them, or sit on the couch and snuggle up, or give a passing kiss on the way down the hall...  I'm an adult.  I have good judgement.  I appreciate the value of muddling through some less-than-perfect to get to the insanely awesome.  But in weaker moments when I need a little affection or attention or just to be able to say what's on my mind, I feel stuck out in the cold. 


No matter where we are or who we're around, Red & Missy never have to think twice about the affection they show one another.  To others, their behavior (good, bad, whatever) is always normal married people behavior.  But our friends, family and co-workers who know me only as their friend would absolutely FREAK OUT if I acted that way with either of them.  A hug that lasts a second too long, or too many hugs, or a hug for no particular reason would draw attention.  There is no hand holding or back rubbing or squeezing of a knee in my world unless we are alone or with people who know (although we do our fair share of pushing the limits). 


So I'm left mourning the loss of being in a "normal" relationship where nobody would think twice about seeing me walk up behind the person I love while they're doing the dishes and kiss the back of their neck or put my arms around them for a hug or an "I love you."  I can't call them "baby" or "sweetie" or use too much of that lovey-dovey tone of voice.  There shouldn't be too much giggly behavior or whispering or closeness and no hand-holding or butt-swatting, either.   What about when I need a more-than-just-friends kind of hug?  Nothing.


Who chooses THAT?  Me.


Well...at least I'm becoming wise, right?

Anyone? Bueller?

The reader may recall Red mentioning that we fell into this triad without planning to - yes, we considered the pros and cons of inviting Chloe to play before it happened, so no, it wasn't impulsive. But we had no idea it would turn into a Relationship.

(If anyone is interested in the details of how that initial kickoff happened, it's a pretty interesting story.*)

Since we are therefore new to the world of Alternative Lifestyles (heh), we have been looking around for other people's experiences. And yes, the links posted over there to the right have been interesting and helpful, as have various other tidbits online.

Of the couple of friends we've told, none have had anything quite like this experience in their lives. Some have had brief or even recurring three-way encounters which were rewarding and non-icky. But nothing that became so important, or so stable, as the Trifecta. Others have had an epic night here and there, when they were twenty, or drunk, or both. That doesn't apply to us either. Stories I read online are often about people who have more fluid, open relationships, with more characters entering and leaving the stage. Or they are written by people whose attempts at three-way love have failed, and left them miserable. That's not us, I hope.

In the parlance of the poly community, I guess we are a "closed triad". An equilateral triangle of love, and of sexual intimacy. (There are interesting* - rather subtle - asymmetries in the "having sex" department, but I'd say the sexual energy is pretty much evenly distributed.) None of us sees other people outside the triangle (good lord, how would one find the time, never mind the mental and emotional fuel??) ... and we anticipate being like this for the indefinite future. That puts us in an apparently tiny corner of the already-tiny polyamorous world. Not unique, by any means, but fairly rare.

So here's my point: we know there are people reading this blog. We are delighted to have one follower (hi!), and hope to have more. Not for fame or fortune, but because we're here to share. Meanwhile there's this cavernous echoing silence, us talking and presumably you listening, but lurking. I would be really interested to hear whether you've brushed up against any similar stories, either in your own lives or those of friends or family; I would be open to answering questions about our story as well.


*(But somebody has to ask.)

Enduring Love

My parents visited us this past weekend. I had told them who we are and what were up to over the phone a few weeks prior. They came and saw for themselves. My mom was quite understanding, all considering. She and I are close, and I couldn't stand the thought of hiding something from her so important in my life. Her concern, of course, was that no one get hurt. They did meet & like Chloe, which they should, because she is a sweet, thoughtful, intelligent, funny woman. My mom wanted to know that this was not an experiment, or a temporary arrangement. I told her that it was not. And Dad, well, he's open-minded, and if it looks good to mom, it will look good to dad.





What makes me think that we have a chance at staying together for the long term? I'll give you two examples, just from today. First, Chloe is away from us for a few days. And by that I mean she isn't staying over for a few days. The collective feeling of us missing each other is palpable. And I don't mean that I miss Chloe, and Missy misses Chloe, or vice versa. I mean that we miss us. That none of us feels complete without both of the others. And each of us, missing the whole, it feels natural, like, of course we miss us, how else would we possibly feel? We are a whole, incomplete without all three of us--we all feel it whenever we are apart. Second, we can talk about the difficult stuff. The practical problems of living our lives in this modern world. None of us is rich. We all have to work. There is money stress--something which can be quite corrosive in any relationship. But we can and do talk about it, all three of us. Not that it is the most pleasant thing to be doing, but that is precisely my point. We are not simply using each other as an escape from other problems in our lives. We are talking about the details of how to make ends meet. We are talking about the hard parts. And no one is running away screaming. That suggests to me that the foundation of love we have is quite strong. Our fates are tied. We are committed. We will all work hard, harder perhaps than any of us ever has, to make us work. To stay together. And so I am optimistic about our chances.



Let me now change the subject. When we started our relationship, and this blog, we knew nothing about any polyamory resources on the web, or books, or whatnot. We were blazing our own trail, in our own way, ignorant of what others have reported. But since that time, we have done a bit of research here and there. We've read what some others have wrote. I know who Deborah Anapol is now. There are some good insights out there. We fall firmly into the "we did not seek out polyamory, polyamory found us" category. But, we don't feel like we are anything special. We are just three ordinary people, who took a chance at an unusual relationship, willing to see where it went. We're not running away from anything. We don't have a history of chaotic lives. But we do love each other, and we do love the fact of us.





I love you Missy, I love you Chloe! Thank you both so much for what you give me!

---Red

Yes, it IS that hot.

There's been a lot of talk around here about our feelings, our struggles, our joint and individual journeys through this uncharted territory.

We haven't said much lately about the sex.

Come to think of it, I'm the only one who's ever mentioned sex on this blog, so maybe that tells you something about where my mind is ... and there's a danger in focusing on it, because it seems the world out there is mostly curious about that part of what a threesome is like. There's so much more to it, and I want to make sure that's clear.

But.

It is in fact totally, screamingly hot. Now, of course: there is a novelty factor. What happens in bed is inevitably new-and-different compared to what each of us was accustomed to before. We are all of an age starting with "4-", so we've been around the block a time or two. But usually with just one other person at a time.

Even then, there's so much to negotiate as you're getting to know another person naked. Do you try a new thing unannounced, or work up to it? If you're not really enjoying that thing the other person is doing, how do you make it clear without being a total buzzkill? Is it okay to laugh during super-hot moments? I mean really, the whole enterprise looks funny, sounds funny, smells funny. Now picture three people in the ring: there may be an audience to what any two are doing. This can be uncomfortable at first.

The recipe for success, apparently, is to assemble three people who are good, giving, and game (credit to Dan Savage for "GGG"). Individuals who have some skill (or more importantly, are perceptive and attentive to subtle feedback), who are generous (your pleasure is at least as important as mine), and who are open to trying new things (and not afraid to say "meh, that didn't really do it for me" if that happens).

So there we are. Two girls and a guy. Each of us really, really digs the others. There are lips and hands and legs and sighs and gasps and tongues and fingers and OMG there are more of all those things than can possibly be possible and ...

I can't write this post.

I thought I could breathe deep and get in there and describe the details ... but I can't. There aren't words. (Also it's a little scary, wondering if Red and Chloe would be horrified. I suppose I will run it by them.) Really, it's kind of shocking for my chatty self to discover I don't have the descriptors in my vocabulary to convey what it's like in that intense, heart-racing place we get to. But I don't.

Hmph. What do I do with that information?

The gentle tug of love.

The Trifecta has introduced many wonderful new feelings and experiences into my life, and a lot of painful, uncomfortable ones as well.  The litmus test at the beginning was whether or not anyone would run screaming from the room, but has been tempered since.  We have grown as a threesome and matured.  I feel like those initial fears (which seem so silly and childish in retrospect) are a distant memory now, and have led us to the harsh reality that even little things, if left unaddressed, could lead to failure.

Revelation (this is roughly #52 of my Trifecta revelations)!  Lately when something bothers me (which normally brings out a fight or flight response), I have been feeling a gravitational pull towards Missy and Red.  I mean an actual tug, like they're letting me know it's ok to just STAY and FEEL.  They know that although I'm not running screaming from the room, there are a lot of distressing moments that really do bother me, and while they can't always fix things, or even fully understand what I'm feeling, they want me with them.  These two beautiful people just want to be there for me.

I hope to someday deserve all of this...

Call me the Village Idiot...

So let's review...we have mastered the Trifecta time-warp, where being together for months feels like we've been together for years, and the weekend arrives in half the time now that there are three of us.  We have conquered spacial relations roulette - the queen sized bed has actually expanded to accomodate us.  But have I learned anything?  No.  Apparently I am that person in the village who walks into telephone poles, expecting them to step out of the way.

Maybe I didn't have feelings before?  I used to be the person whose feelings were never hurt, who never cried, who never broke out into crazy-person laughter at inappropriate times.  Yeah, not so much anymore.  I am in this new and different relationship, and experiencing new and different emotions (130% of which are awesome, by the way), but still around every corner is something that has the potential to make me crumble or explode or...(insert embarassing/horrifying emotional reaction HERE).  And it still takes me by surprise like it's the first time...every time.  I should learn to expect it, but apparently I'm completely incapable.

Logically I expect to be a little less secure in our relationship because Red & Missy were here first...I'm the newbie, the third, the extra...and that doesn't bother me one bit.  But wow.  Put me at a party where only the hosts know about the Trifecta?  Ack.  Don't get me wrong - I had a great time, and I'm sure no one noticed anything strange in my laughter or speech or behavior.  The awkwardness was deafening to me though - yes, I believe that night I invented deafening awkwardness.  Am I being too touchy-feely with him (I mean, they all know he's married to her)?  Uh oh...I think I'm over-compensating and ignoring them completely now.  Geez, stop staring at her - I'm sure it's written all over your face!  Then later?  Tears.  I imagined everyone going home after the party and asking each other "who WAS that?"  "Did she come with them or was she alone?"  "Wait, HOW did she know them?"  Yup - call me undefined. 

Don't worry.  I'll survive.  I have the greatest support EVER in Missy & Red.  They take good care of me.  Time will pass as well, and things that feel strange now will begin to feel normal.  People will get to know us and people will get to know me.  I just hope I learn to stop walking into telephone poles before my face gets too messed up.

Eat, Drink, Man, Woman, Woman.

"'If you are careful,' Garp wrote, 'if you use good ingredients, and you don't take any shortcuts, then you can usually cook something very good. Sometimes it is the only worthwhile product you can salvage from a day; what you make to eat. With writing, I find, you can have all the right ingredients, give plenty of time and care, and still get nothing. Also true of love. Cooking, therefore, can keep a person who tries hard sane.'" -John Irving, "The World According to Garp"

...

Days are busy around here lately. Very, awfully busy. Have been for a while. Though I love to cook, the past few months have involved a lot of non-cooking: crackers-and-cheese, hummus-and-chips-and-salsa kind of dinners. Or half-price appetizers at happy hour. Breakfast is snatched on the run or not at all. I can sometimes get free lunch at work but it's boring, and things have been so crazy it's been hard to even make time to run get free food. (I'm a hungry person. This is a sign of serious derangement.)

...

Tonight, though, I will cook. I've been home sick while Chloe and Red went off to work; the ingredients are in the fridge, and I'm rested up enough to turn them into dinner. The reason I know this is so rewarding? Besides years of translating love-into-food for my friends and family and partners, I mean. Lately? It's brown bag lunches.

...

A few weeks ago, in an effort to save money and actually improve nutrition to something above the vending-machine cracker level, I started packing lunches. For all three of us. The lunch-packing started back before Chloe was staying over at our house very much; I would sneak a sack to her on the days when I could manage it, or mournfully pack just two lunches if I couldn't. These days, I'm regularly setting out three brown paper bags (with initials C, M, and R - must keep straight the mayo vs. Miracle Whip sandwiches!)

...

Though it requires me to get up a little earlier, and gets in the way of other things I might be doing, I've come to love this ritual. I get home from the market with packages of goldfish crackers and baby carrots and mixed nuts, and parcel them out into little ziploc bags for a week's worth of lunches. I assemble three sandwiches at a time (turkey, maybe ham too! or tuna salad - gotta make two kinds, since Red doesn't want celery - or PBJ if I'm really in a hurry). Those get made in the morning, otherwise they'll be soggy. I use special tricks my mama taught me, for combating sogginess in different types of sandwich. When I can, I try to stick in a container of homemade iced tea.

...

Every motion, swipe of a knife, scrunching of lettuce, folding a napkin, says "I love you". Picking out the fruit, snipping the grapes into little bunches, sealing up the bags, reminds me "they love you back".

...

Tonight I will serve them affection over steamed rice, with a side of passion, and kisses for dessert. They will fuss over my cooking, and comfort me for having been sick. Or who knows, maybe one or both of them will be in a foul mood, and we won't have much to say to each other. That's okay too. We will at least eat and drink and be together, and be in love.

Hi Mom

Hi Mom,

Yeah, it's me. Listen, um, you know how when I was a teen-ager, and I really wanted something, and you were all "no" and then I would just hound you with my brand of logic and reason and eventually convince you that what I wanted to do was okay, and I'd get you to change your mind? Remember that?

Well, you're going to be here in a week and a half, and I want to tell you what's going on with me. You see, um, well, there are now three of us. Yeah. Me and Missy and now Chloe. Yeah. Missy and Chloe adore each other. We are all in love. Yes. We consider ourselves all in one relationship now. A bit longer than three months. Well, we don't want to be in anyone's face about it, but we don't want to be hiding it, either. No, none of us was looking for something like this. But when the time came, we all found we were open to the idea, and now, three months on, it feels good. It feels like it has legs. It feels like it has potential to last quite a while. We all love each other, and we all like who we are in this relationship.

You'll see us together. You'll see our dynamic. You'll see how we are. You can check us out, and decide if I've overdosed on stupid pills or not. You know me. I know you want me to be happy. And I am happy, really very happy right now. You will see that. I know this will be challenging in many ways, forseen and unforseen. And yeah, it makes certain decisions and situations more...complicated. But we are all strong, we want to be together, and we are willing to fight for our future together.

And I want you to know who I am and what I have done...no secrets, no lies, no hiding.

I love you,

Red

Dreamgirl, and boy.

I love how each of them sleeps.

I've never been a great sleeper; takes me a while to get there, and I wake up easily. With any new lover, it takes a while for me to get used to how they turn over in their sleep, how much of the covers they pull over themselves, how much real estate they tend to occupy in the bed. Red has adapted to me, too: he likes to put a pillow over his head, so he doesn't hear things like cell phones buzzing. He learned years ago to make sure they don't, when I'm sleeping, because I jolt awake at the slightest sound.

The first few nights that we were blessed to have Chloe sleep in our bed -- actually sleep -- none of us really got much shut-eye. There's the whole who's-in-the-middle thing (some people find it too hot, or the extra-arm problem is too unwieldy), and how much space is there, and oops we're having sex again? Eventually we've gotten more comfortable, and more able to ignore each other's shifting and sighing.

Still, I'm usually the one who gets to watch each of them fall asleep.

Red has always been pretty quick to drift off, unless something's rattling around in his brain and making him fidgety, which isn't very often. Chloe, I'm finding, is often even quicker. (Hm, her orgasms are speedier than mine too. Correlation? Sounds like a research study that needs doing!) As with orgasms, I can tell when she's about to fall asleep because her breathing changes. I mean, that's true for everyone of course, but I get to hear it and feel it ... and if there's any light, I get to see her face fall into this angelic form that just makes me melt. Red, he gets this boyish face when he sleeps, that makes me want to cradle his head and let him sleep as long as he can stand it, just so I can watch.

On workdays, Red is typically the first one out the door. He has to get up at the butt-crack of dawn, painfully early really. Sometimes I'm up at the same hour, sometimes I steal a little more rest. Not usually sleep, but at least rest. This morning I got to slide over next to Chloe, apologize for waking her up, and glue myself to her warm, smooth side while she clasped my fingers and said "it's fine". And it was. Within three breaths she was sleeping again, angel style, early sunlight filtering through her beautiful hair. I almost cried. Instead I actually dozed, and dreamed, and though I hated the alarm a half hour later, I knew when I kissed her and slipped out of bed she would go right back to sleep and would indeed be fine.

My cup runneth over, too.

Blissed out

A weekend away together is just what the doctor ordered. Our trifecta is only three months old, but feels so much older, due to (minimally) tumult in all of our professional lives. Somehow, someway my women dissolve the hurt in me, and restore me to my best. Today is a Monday, and for me that means back to work and management responsibilities. I'd been having somewhat of a crisis of conscience lately, doubting myself. That's a big no-no for someone who is paid to lead.

It was a quick trip, leaving Saturday morning and returning Sunday afternoon. We lingered in the room, hung out at the pool, enjoyed some wine, enjoyed each other. In loving my women, I rediscover myself and the amazing things I am capable of. My confidence soars. It affects every corner of my being,
and it is noticed by everyone with whom I spend time. And also, with my women and in a desert town, I detatch from my work and my troubles easily and completely. I relax like I cannot relax with anyone else, anywhere else. I think we will need to get away like this about once a month.

Thank you, ladies, Red is back on his game. Here's to the next three months!

Sh*tstorm? Brainstorm!

So the triad's praises be sung, with respect to lovin', and life support, and all that. We really ARE a party in a box - and I like me some box. I mean, some party. Anyway.

As things progress, and we're not feeling obliged to make Every Single Visit as full of romance as it could possibly get, we start to learn the things people always learn how to navigate in relationships. Shampoo. Mayonnaise vs. Miracle Whip. When one of the girls gets tearful, it may not mean exactly the same thing as when the other one gets tearful. Is the boy expected to shift gears between the temperaments of the two girls? Well, I shift gears between the boy and the girl, so, of course!! Um, or not. We're still figuring stuff out.

But last night, when I was exhausted and grouchy, and thinking out loud trying to figure out logistics for a complicated series of events, Chloe and Red popped out with two ideas in a row that were brilliant. Brilliant! Not rocket science, but exactly what I needed at the time. Three brains on board, I'm tellin ya...

My cup runneth over.

Last week when I had some time to post, I planned on writing about how great it is to be the "Party in a Box."  You know...wherever we go we're a group, we're a team, we ARE happy hour.  We're not waiting for a friend to join us or hoping we don't get stood up, or even chatting with the bartender until our date shows up.  It's a great feeling.

Because of recent events however, our "Party in a Box" was suddenly forced to evolve into "Life Support in a Box," and I'm not feeling so flip or lighthearted about it anymore. 

I have always prided myself in being pretty self-sufficient and low-maintenance.  I am comfortable alone or with people, I stay out of trouble, I generally only take on challenges and situations that I can manage on my own.  Now that I've been plunged into a full-on crisis though, I realize that what I thought was strength and independence was apparently just a wall I had constructed to keep from being let down by people I should be able to depend on.  It's painful to be so vulnerable when you aren't used to it (I suppose like holding a nail and hammering with your eyes closed).  What I have found though, is that if someone is looking out for you, you don't have to bear all of the pain and make all of the decisions by yourself.  If TWO people are looking out for you, it's ten times more powerful, effective, and comforting (somehow...miraculously).

Life is all turned upside-down, but I have Missy and Red to hold on to.  They remind me that I am loved, that I belong, that I matter.

In it for the long haul

Interesting times in Trifecta land lately. Shake 'em up and let 'em roll. I can't get into details here, but we are all in for some tests of strength and will in the near term. Still, I am optimistic, and in a pretty darn good mood. I will be here for you two, no matter what. Now, one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. We are strong, and we will follow our path where ever it leads.

Love,

Red

Out on a limb.

I imagine anyone who's been in bed with two other people at once has had the delicious experience of suddenly realizing: you're not sure who that extremity belongs to.

"Wait - there's a hand there? ANOTHER hand? Wow!"

A fun moment for a girl in a M/F/F triad is figuring out whose it is based on size, texture, and the aforementioned hair quotient.

"Hmm, those are soft lady fingers. Ooh."

But my favorite limb, by far, is the leg. Six legs. SIX of them. I've always loved a leg draped over me, or mine draped over someone else. Nowadays, there are so many intertwined legs it's like leg heaven. Sometimes I walk into the room and see the other four legs, bent in gentle embrace, and it almost makes me faint from joy. At that moment, I feel compelled to tangle myself up in them and just loll around for a while.

Which we have dubbed: THE TRITANGLE.

The boy

Two women and a day job. I sure am tired alot! They takes good care of me, they do, Missy & Chloe. I am grateful. Love them so much, words fail. My life is different now. I am fighting for a future for the three of us. Every day.

I started this. I remember how, it seemed easy at the time. (Don't take that the wrong way, Chloe). I was full to the brim with perfect confidence. I was the biggest baddest motherfucker in the room. I manuvered and manipulated, it was great fun. Now the novelty is worn off, and I am in it for the long haul. Much to do, much work to be done, much to build. We are all working hard. It feels good, to be three, striving towards a common dream. It feels genuine. It feels possible. We are on the frontier, making our own way, no signposts, no direction, no sage advice from travellers come this way afore. We are winging it maximally. Live without a net. I do not know the future, but I know that I am fully committed.

---Red

Running JUST faster than the fastest lion...

"Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn't matter whether you're a lion or gazelle - when the sun comes up, you'd better be running."
-Thomas L. Friedman " (from "The World is Flat: A Brief History of the 21st Century)

The quote actually refers to commerce and globalization.  I know, I know...gratuitous quoting completely out of context, right?  Not really.  In fact, it provides a great parallel to my 'public' romantic life.  I happen to be the um, how do I say..."least professionally developed" (groan) in the relationship.  I consider myself lucky because I don't feel my good name would be ruined, or even damaged very much if people knew what was going on after hours.  But I am acutely concerned over the careers and family life of the two I'm with, because they stand to lose a lot more by being discovered.  In my mind, before we go anywhere, there is a certain amount of consideration I give to how 'natural' I can act and still pull off being just a close family friend - who will be there, and how intuitive and observant are they?   Who do I need to run faster than?  I just need to stay one step ahead of anyone who might catch on...

We have had more than our fair share of giggles while scandalizing bar patrons, neighbors, and TSA screeners (any of whom may or may not have been paying attention) - acting like we don't care what people think, and knowing that if THEY knew how happy we were, they'd be jealous!  But when it comes to friends, coworkers and family...it can be a downer.  After all, they are the important people.

Overwhemingly, the relationship has given me the energy to hit the ground running every morning.  I feel more charged up and strong now than I ever have (Missy and I have dubbed the phenomena our "Wonder Twin Powers")...  The excitement and strength the relationship provides is intoxicating.  The challenge now, it seems, is being sure we're running in the right direction - i.e. not TOWARDS the lion, but away from it. 

Repeat after me:  Today I will control my relationship intoxication and make good decisions.  (That IS what you do when you're in it for the long haul).

Who you callin' straight??

So that out-of-town trip last weekend was to where my oldest friend (from the first days of college) was throwing an insanely cool birthday party for his husband. Of the 16 people present, 10 were officially gay. As Red and I arrived, one of the other six (Tall Guy) greeted us with "Hey, good to see some other straight people here!" Standard banter for this crowd.

Later that night at dinner, we're pouring out yet another round of wine.

Tall Guy: "There ya go - and here's to the straight contingent!"

Me: "Heck yeah!" *clink*

Red: [elbows me in the ribs]

Me: (whispering) "Oh, right - wait, crap! Do I not count?"


Later, Oldest Friend hears this story and cracks up. Red solemnly observes: "We eschew labels." And that much, Dear Reader, is true.

This post is not about "what is my sexual orientation?" ... Not only do I not care what you call me, or what I call myself, I think the question is boring. I am Chloe-and-Red-o-sexual, is all that matters. No: what arrests me about this moment is the issue of Coming Out.

I noted in passing that a couple of months into our intense, jaw-dropping, dizzingly happy and also VERY SECRET relationship, National Coming Out Day came and went. I had no desire to walk through a cardboard closet door on the college plaza, though I did think that was awfully cute back when I first saw it. But I wish - dearly - that we didn't have to hide so hard. From family, friends, co-workers (all of whom think Chloe is wonderful but whose heads would explode if they really knew why we hang out so much).

We three have traveled out of town some, to get away from it all - which of course has the added bonus of a king-sized bed. (We actually went to a hotel seven miles from home one night, just for that part - I mean, even as close as we are, the queen mattress is a little crowded when it comes to sleeping.) It's been divine to squeeze Chloe's knee at the table, see her kiss Red at the next chair, feel her fingertips drifting across the back of my neck, and not worry that an ex-spouse's best friend might report back on the scandal. There are places where we can walk down the street hand-in-hand-in-hand and no one bats an eye. Then we get back to a bar near home a few days later, and at some point as we're talking and laughing Chloe leans over to kiss me, and at the last second we both spring back: shit! We're not allowed to do that here!

I get that part of being not-altogether-straight, now.

And honestly, it's one of the most painful things so far. It keeps me up nights sometimes. I love them both so, so much. I want to wear a little discreet piece of symbolic jewelry, and decorate them with the same. I want to take all our vacations together. I want to live in the same house, yes-in-the-same-room-why-do-you-ask-Mom?

We joke all the time about trading up to the giant California King size bed. But that's only a fraction of the way in which we don't fit.

A Win-Win-Win Situation.

Last night, worn out from the long drive home, and then blissed out from hours and hours of re-connecting with much-missed Chloe, I slept extra deep. Woke abruptly in the wee hours, and for a millisecond was convinced that it was her body pressed against my back. That was disorienting: it's rare that she gets to spend the night at our house, so ... was I in a hotel room? Were we traveling? Had I forgotten what day it was?

In an instant I realized there were actually just two people in the room, and it was the hairier of the bodies I love to be pressed up against that was really there. At home. Red shifted and slept on, as I got up for a drink of water.

On the one hand, I thought, I am the luckiest person alive. Loved by a wonderful man and an amazing woman. It never occurred to me that one could do this thing. On the other hand, it does invite a host of difficult challenges into one's life.

Like for instance: why do restaurant tables only come in rectangles?

This forces an awkward choice. Two on one side, so who is the odd person out? And does Third Person sit opposite the one, or the other? Are we supposed to remember who sat where last time, for fairness' sake? Little round tables are fine, but there's usually not enough room for all the knees.

And also: who rushes to whose defense when an unpleasant moment descends? Ah, thinks the Dear Reader, this is more what I was expecting. This three-some / three-way / triad / trio / thing must be full of unholy alliances, simmering resentments, and pitfalls just waiting to happen.

Well, it seems that when grownups take a deep breath and choose to give this a try, they may just be Paying Attention much more than usual. Because somehow the three of us are managing to take care of each other's needs, and our own, better than we ever did in any of the two-ways we've ever been in.

And did I mention the crazy good sex?

It was the best of times, it was the best of times.

I have been dreaming of this blog for what seems like ages.  The hardest part has been deciding how to actually START - the beginning seems overwhelming, so maybe I'll start with today.

I'm a person who happens to be crazy, madly, wildly in love with two people...who are married...to each other. 

They are gone on a weekend trip with friends, and I am having the most miserable time.  I'm hoping writing will help my heart stop hurting so much.  All I can think about is being with them.  All the time.  I mean literally...probably as often as men think about sex (that's like once every ten seconds, right?)!  Did I mention that I'm a responsible adult?  Yup - 41 years old.  They (I'll call them Missy & Red) are happily married, and I am the third in our triad.  I have never experienced this kind of a relationship before, and it has been unbelievable.

I had so many fears over what might happen when we started down this windy path.  Wouldn't someone always feel left out or neglected?  Could I handle the inevitable drama?  Would they quickly get tired of me and need someone new to keep the excitement going?

As it turns out, I have never experienced LESS drama and jealousy in a relationship.  That surprises even me!  I think we sincerely enjoy making and seeing each other happy (in bed and out), that there is simply no place for drama.  There is an overpowering feeling of balance in the triad that I have never felt in a traditional M/F relationship.  There are now two people I can use as a sounding board to check my opinions and judgement with, and even when our opinions initially differ, the consensus is always better than anything I would have arrived at on my own.

This is more than your everyday threesome (if there ever could be such a thing).  The circumstances under which we met, our shared interests and goals, and how we function in our daily lives makes our situation truly unique.  I used to think that three people in a relationship meant each of us would provide 33.3% towards 100% of the whole, but in reality we each contribute 100%. The benefits of a 300% whole are mindboggling...I feel a strength that I have never felt before in a relationship.  It's a beautiful and wondrous thing.

-Chloe