Hello, my name is _____.

Almost a year, it's been?! So, so much has happened.

Last week Chloe and I moved our business into a new space. No more sharing with three or four other people - just us! Red provided extra muscle, and all the tech support. Our friends and family are excited for us. The days when working together seemed like a terrible idea (we'll get on each other's nerves, the Trifecta will dissolve and we'll be stuck dependent on each other, finances ruin romances)... those seem like a century ago.

Our little family is content. The three of us, plus two cats and a dog - oh yeah, we *never* thought we'd have pets together - we make a good household. All three kids live elsewhere now, and they're each doing pretty well. (Ripley in particular is on her feet, Red having done a fantastic job navigating the hardest stretch of parenting I could imagine.)

We're out of the closet almost everywhere; us girls are increasingly active in LGBT events, and Red joins in sometimes.

We're past the four year mark, and really wish we could be legally married to all of each other. There will be legal papers, and a ceremony at some point. It sure would be nice for that to be as "real" as everyone else's marriage, but I guess this is kinda what it was like to be gay and partnered, up until recently.

Here is a committed threesome of Swedes:

http://nordicinnovation.nu/swedens-blogging-polyfamily-goes-viral/

And there's another nearby, three men, who are good friends of ours. We are not as weird as I once thought.

In fact, you know what? Less hiding, more smiling.

Hi, I'm Kathleen. She's Michelle, and he's Sean. We are the Trifecta, and I am proud to love them both.

 

Born This Way.

As we've come out of the closet to more and more people over these years, I notice a couple of patterns of reaction. One: Red must be some kind of PIMP DADDY to get two girls on him! Another: Missy must be like the most generous wife EVAR, to share the dude she already had legal claim to. Yet another: Chloe must have magical powers of seduction, and may actually be dangerous. And of course: well, y'all have fun and enjoy it while you can, cuz I tried that [or watched someone try it, etc.] and it never lasts.

Where to begin.

That last one is not really worth wasting breath over. Our Trifecta is a constant exercise in making it up as we go along, with the express goal of having it last forever. We've nailed down another year and a day, and I'm betting on a lot longer than that!

No, what I'm ruminating on today is the tricky business of explaining who we are and how we got to this place, and for that matter, how I understand it myself.

We recently attended our first "poly meetup", which was a pleasant non-hookup-y event in a low-stress venue with some very nice people. We'd been wary of going to any of the groups we learned about early on, because it seemed we might be at risk of sleaze. None of us want people thinking we're looking to expand the triad. So we waited until we came across a group that sounded like it was more family-oriented, not focused on "snuggle parties", and not happening on a Saturday night in a bar. It did feel nice to be among people who are not judgmental, and to hear about some of their experiences. But afterwards we realized: it wasn't clear that any of them were actually in the same boat as us. When we present ourselves as a long-standing three-person relationship, theoretically it could be a V with Red in the middle, or Chloe in the middle, or me in the middle (the default assumption is that the guy is the vertex), or it could be the actual three-way that it is. When we met other three-person groups last week, in some cases it was unclear what their deal was too, but in others it was explicitly "husband and wife plus husband's girlfriend" or vice versa.

I do not know how to describe us, either to new people or existing friends and family, without drawing a diagram:

 Red and Chloe are lovers.

Missy and Red are lovers.

Chloe and Missy are lovers.

By "lovers", yes we mean both physically and emotionally. If you've read much of this blog, you may recall that early on, there was a lot more sexual involvement in the first two cases than in the third -- that has evolved, much to my delight. And when Chloe and I go out just the two of us, people seem to receive us fairly readily as a same-sex couple. But when all three of us are together, the assumption is different.

Dear Reader: How do you imagine that the Trifecta got started? There have been allusions to it over time, but mostly to the effect of "it was Red's idea". When you hear that, what do you imagine? Apparently, the default is "he wanted to sleep with another woman and his wife was cool with that as long as it was a threesome". There is a grain of truth there, but only a grain.

The fact is, I was born bisexual. I realized almost 20 years ago that I'd been wired that way all along: besides having girls show up in my sex dreams and my fantasies, those intense fixations I got on various girls throughout my youth were actually romantic crushes, the same kind as I got on boys (though I couldn't identify them as such because it was too outlandish, too crazy, to be possible). By the time I was able to do so, I was already married (for the first time), and the option of stepping out and experimenting with girls -- never mind a threesome -- was just not on the table. Or so it seemed.

Once I'd been with Red for while, I shared all this with him, and he was not in the least freaked out. For his part, there was also some unfulfilled longing: he simply hadn't been with very many women, and wondered what someone else might be like. (My 20's had been quite lively, so although I was no longer interested in sleeping around, I felt a little sad on his behalf.) That's where it stayed for the longest time. Neither of us wanted to deceive the other, and giving permission to go extracurricular felt uncomfortable, so the feeling was "that ship has sailed, and we're happy sleeping just with each other".

Then a few years ago, an unlikely opportunity arose. There was a woman who was interested in Red, and when he was reluctant to get with her without me present, she agreed to include me ... because Red conveyed, completely truthfully, that I had always wanted to go to bed with a girl and hadn't pursued any opportunity. So this way, everyone gets at least a taste of what they want. Great! It actually was only great briefly, and that's all I have to say about that.

But the next thing that happened was even more remarkable. Red was already friends with Chloe, and I had been in social settings with her a couple of times. They'd had conversations that led Red to think she might be open to a threesome, so he ran it by me and then proposed it to her. (A very entertaining story, if he wants to tell it!) The understanding from the start was that this was to be low-stakes, fun, and if anyone didn't like it well then it's no huge loss.

The rest is history.

The POINT, however, is that we didn't get here because Chloe came along and seduced Red, with me tagging along -- nor because Red wanted to play the field, and convinced me to tag along. My desire to explore being with a girl was at least as big a factor. Far from feeling like the generous cool wife who's willing to share her man, I feel like the luckiest bi girl in the world. Selfish, even, sometimes. I get to have a girlfriend, and keep my husband too?!? That's an embarrassment of riches.

I don't presume to speak for either of my loves when I tell my version of our Creation Story. It's meaningful to me that (a) Red loved me so much that he wanted to help me explore my identity even if it might be scary for both of us, (b) Chloe was so open-minded that even though she'd never had a girlfriend, she was willing to find out what it would be like, and (c) I've grown enough by now that I'm not weirded out by my nature. I can't imagine having only him or only her. I guess that means "poly" is part of how I'm wired too. Long ago I wrote that I don't care about labels: that's true up to a point, but the prouder I get of who we are, the louder I want to rejoice.

"We're here, we're something out of the ordinary if not altogether queer, get used to it!"

But seriously, folks...

It's fun to look at my rings and remember I'm connected by gold and gems to two amazing, loving people who are as beautiful and multi-faceted as my garnet and diamonds.

Some symbols are less smile-inducing than that. Yet maybe at least as important.

I had major surgery two weeks ago. (Not for a life-threatening condition, and yes I'm doing fine thank you. Though I should have listened to the doctor about how long the recovery takes. Doctors make terrible patients, it's true.)

When you go in for surgery, even if you're young(-ish) and otherwise healthy, you should ALWAYS have an advance healthcare directive in your hand. This is not as much about specifying what your wishes are, should your medical condition become grave, as it is about designating who you want to make decisions for you if you can't. About twice a month I get involved in a hospital case where this really, really matters and we all wish the patient had signed a simple document.

So, in the run-up to my surgery, I prepared my advance directive. Remember Chloe a while back talking about how sad it feels not to have any official standing in the Trifecta, compared to the Actual Husband? Well I wanted to make sure that (a) she would be permitted to visit me at any and all stages of the medical journey, and (b) she would be consulted, along with Red, about any unexpected decision-making that might have to happen without my say-so. The very first line of my advance directive identifies both Red and Chloe, with equal and shared decision-making authority, as my designated healthcare agents. The document is typed, legally binding, signed by witnesses (who didn't see that line, but saw me sign my name), and is in effect until and unless I revoke it specifically.

For me, somehow, seeing that piece of paper was really pleasing. The content is serious; the concreteness is satisfying.

The actual hospital experience was kind of amusing. I made clear from the get-go that I wanted both of them with me at all times; in some rooms it wasn't possible, because there was only space for one other person. But the staff were very respectful about this, and encouraged me to inform everyone about my preference. ("So, it's your husband and your ... gal-friend I'm going to look for now?") We all hung out in the pre-op waiting room, joking about the bad TV and awesome wi-fi. Chloe came with me to the pre-anesthesia area, held my hand, met the surgeon and anesthesiologist, and kissed me goodbye. The surgeon later went out to the waiting room and gave them both the details about what happened, showed them pictures, answered questions. Red met me in the recovery room, kissed me hello, and poked me to remind me to breathe deep when the monitor alarms went off. They both came to the discharge area where the nurse got me dressed and made sure I wasn't too wobbly, before helping me into the car and tucking me into bed.

Not that I can read their minds or anything, but I think Chloe and Red felt almost like equal partners of mine that day.

I know I felt it.

Still here...

I have been reminded recently that we haven't kept the blog up very well this year...  We have been distracted with work and family, and frankly have settled in to day to day living in a way that just doesn't have enough drama to be posting about as often!

So what has been going on with us?  We've been trying to figure out (for a LONG time) how we can live together without coming out to the two younger kids (their mom is the ex-wife and a big meanie).  I'm not happy in my apartment, but still need to house my daughter, who is a full-time college student.  She was against living with us at the beginning, saying "it would just be too weird, mom," but has since spent enough time in family situations with us (and hates the apartment enough now) that she has become more comfortable with the idea.  The Trifecta has one bed, so in order not to be out with the two younger kids (who are there every other weekend and every Wednesday), I would need my own bedroom.  They each have their own room and my daughter would need her own room...sheesh...that's a five-bedroom house.  The coordination required to find a big house to rent, finding a renter for Missy & Red's three-bedroom house, at the same time the lease runs out on my apartment?  Nearly impossible, and prohibitively expensive.  It is a work in progress.

We enjoyed the first season of "Married and Dating" - the Showtime television series.  Our relationship is not like any on the show, but I appreciate that it's exposing people to the poly lifestyle.  We have been more active in trying to meet other families like ours (to share ideas and commiserate), and are meeting with a group in a couple of weeks - I'll have to update you on how that goes.

What else?  Missy and I attended the Pride Parade & Festival a few months ago - that's always fun.  My daughter was the designated driver for the event, and Missy gave her $20's along the way as hush money, which was brilliant!  "Here's a twenty for not telling anyone how silly we're being...here's a twenty for not laughing at us until you're out of earshot...here's a twenty for pretending we aren't drinking/dancing/giggling too much...here's a twenty to forget our silliness IMMEDIATELY...and here's a final twenty for not reminding us tomorrow of how silly we've been acting today (because we probably won't remember)!"  We also went to a local, smaller Pride Festival a few days ago and enjoyed it very much.  We were introduced to several organizations that will help us volunteer our time for and spend our money at businesses that value equality.   Every little bit helps - maybe someday I will be able to get health benefits and have a wedding and not need hide who I am to people.

Missy's "Year and a Day" sweetness was wonderful.  I have no idea what Red thinks of it, because he only has two feelings (he said it, not me), but it has made things feel more tangible and lasting in my mind.  I can't explain how, but it's nice to have something other than an open ended "we're together" type of relationship.  My feelings about commitment have become rather battered over bad relationships & divorces, and I have become jaded against something that has ALWAYS led to disappointment in my life.  But this feels different.  I'm hoping that in that "different-ness" I will find something that actually works for me and feels great along the way.

In closing, my sincere hope is that people reading our blog are able to see through the drama and (sometimes) bad writing, and will have a sense of our true feelings - feelings that this relationship is a good and lasting one, worth the trouble it causes, and worth the extra work it takes to nourish it.

A Year And A Day

Oh I'm sorry, did everyone think we packed up our marbles and went home?

Nope. Time has elapsed at a puzzling rate, and anyway we've mostly been too busy to write. There have been exciting developments: I stopped being scared! (That the Trifecta would end with either a bang or a whimper, that is. I'm still scared of big hairy spiders.) But seriously, dispensing with fear has been a big relief for me.

In fact it allowed me to take us all one little step further into the future we dream of.

Early last month, Chloe and Red and I were enjoying our longest-ever stretch in our Desert Getaway spot. FOUR nights and days in which to sweat away the botherments of the city! Three visits to our favorite bar! And in the end, two rings.

The epic-ness of our trip became clear at the very beginning: we arrived in town just after the departure of a huge, freakish summer storm. It had dumped inches of water in the course of an hour, and littered the streets with gigantic palm branches. Our hotel's elevators and fitness center were flooded. ("Damn," said Chloe to the desk clerk who wore the cleverest bolo tie I've ever seen. "For the first time, we actually brought our workout clothes!" He could see we were both relieved.)

I had spent most of a week nervously shopping for jewelry for each of us, which I've done before. I got us all sorta-matching trinity knot items our first Christmas (a necklace for her, earrings for me, a keychain for him). For our first anniversary, triple-birthstone rings for all of us. Red's ring fell apart though, so then I got trinity bands for him and Chloe (that way them two had a pair of matching rings, and Chloe and I had a pair of matching rings, and Red and I already had our wedding rings from five years earlier). I kind of liked that asymmetry: the three different sets of two rings really reflected, I thought, the fact that there isn't just one relationship that each of us experiences identically. Now we had just passed our SECOND anniversary (who knew! actually possible!), and I was ready to take things to another level. Especially since the silver trinkets were starting to look worn out.

But there were two problems. One, the sweet little handfasting ceremony I had in mind, for us to promise things to each other? Got scooped by the people on Showtime's "Polyamory: Married and Dating". CURSE THEM. I will let others speak about just how much those people are Not Like Us (keywords: open vs. closed), but let it be said that I did not want to evoke THAT in my escalation.

The second problem still baffles me. How can Chloe and I be so bonded, so close, so intimately interwined with each other body and soul ... and yet I still have *no* idea what jewelry she would like?! For days I moped around jewelry shops and online sites, wretchedly failing to identify anything that I thought would please us both. Then I gave up and just tried to find rings I thought Chloe would like, and eventually I just concluded I should let go of the idea of surprise: let her pick a ring her own self. Red, I wasn't sure if he'd even want a ring, considering how I was going to play this.

So I plotted for an opportune moment. Should I take us all to a place we've never been, one of the rugged and lovely outdoor locales the area is famous for? The 103-degree heat was a deterrent. Perhaps an old favorite haunt? More romantic in the dark? But the public places seemed too ... public. In the end, I settled on "by the pool, first thing of the last morning". It was quiet, pretty, and we had reached relaxation-equilibrium. I stated my case, and each of them seemed sweetly charmed.

It goes like this: long ago in pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland, there was a variety of types of marriage one could enter into. (If you're a scholar of this already, just grant me some license here -- I realize my description is cartoonish, but the medieval-European-history-minor in me is slave to the hopeless romantic in me.) One of the "contracts" was intended to last for a year and a day; at the end of that time, the spouses could choose to commit more permanently, or go their ways freely. I proposed to Red and Chloe this: since I love you both beyond words, and since it's not realistic to make a marriage-style commitment before we have a plausible plan for moving in together, and that goal is at least six to twelve months away; how about we promise each other that we will stay together -- come hell or high water, sorrow, joy, other flirtations, angry moments, weariness, doubts or worries -- for a year and a day. How about that? Chloe said "Yes." Red said, "That's a no-brainer". I said "Let's go jewelry shopping!"

So the last thing we did before leaving Beloved Desert Getaway was to pick out two completely different rings: I could not have even approached guessing right about what Chloe would want, and was tickled with what she did choose. Mine is completely different, and I love it. Red preferred not to have another ring, neither to increase his total nor to replace one of his existing ones. (A couple of weeks later we got him some new hiking boots, approximately equal in value to each of our rings. This struck me as perfect.)

Of course, I should have known they'd both say yes. Just a week before, Red put a $6 bet on a Trifecta at the biggest race of the year, having asked me and Chloe what horses we liked. We won! We won big! We're still winning. We've won love.

Unhappy mess.

I am an unhappy mess. 

Lately I hate hanging out at Missy and Red’s house when there are normal everyday family things going on, because it makes me feel even more like an outsider than usual (and I usually feel a LOT like an outsider).  I am the elephant in the corner that everyone is afraid to mention.  I imagine their kids are wondering what the heck I am doing there all the time.  It doesn’t help that I practically have to sit on my hands in order to not hug or kiss someone off-handedly, or say something that would blow our cover – which makes me want to be there even less.   Missy and Red are the step-mom and the dad…I am…the Chloe.  I have no role, and it makes me sad.  I don't belong.  No, I don’t want Red to tell them about us – even if he actually WANTED to, his ex-wife is a raging…meanie. She would figure out how to take the kids away or get more money or do something else to make his life a living Hell.

Also, I have been worrying lately about what they say about decision making (whoever "they" are).  You know…that thing about how we keep making the same mistakes over and over again without realizing it?  I have had two ten-year marriages that didn’t work out.  I must be making a mistake. Clearly I can’t be making the SAME mistake this time, but am I making some version of a mistake that I’ve made in the past?  How would I even know what that mistake was?   While Missy and Red are in the Trifecta, their marriage is continuing, their family is stable, their retirement accounts are growing...  Meanwhile, at least to the outside world (which is unbelievably difficult to ignore), it appears as though my life is at a standstill.  I am a middle-aged mother living with a college student in an apartment with paper-thin walls.  I drive a used car that requires constant maintenance, I have a job with no future (or insurance or retirement fund), and I don’t date.  It appears as though I hang out a lot with a married couple who can’t seem to get rid of me.  If the Trifecta doesn’t last, I will be in worse shape than before, because I will be all that...and older.  

Man, am I being a big baby about all of this?

F*CK the Unicorn (and not in the good way).

Ok.  Admittedly, I am in a mood.

I read this:
http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2012/01/30/sl-letter-of-the-day-we-found-our-unicornbut-shes-engaged

I realize I am stuck on the moniker, and this isn't the topic of the article, but who wants the pressure of being "The Unicorn?"

On any given day, I usually appreciate and enjoy Dan Savage's advice.  I really do.  Trust me.  But who wants to be "The Unattainable," or "The Elusive," or the object of the "Dude! You didn't really think you'd ever get a piece of that, AND still keep your wife, did you?!" type of locker room banter.

Maybe some girls do, but not me.  Well, not at MY age anyhow.

All I have ever wanted was to be satisfied, and (dare I say?) happy.  Once in a while, (or ok, often...) some adventure and excitement in my relationship are great and fun.  Why is it so disturbingly rare to be in a happy, long-lasting, committed relationship?  Why is must it be even more rare to find two people to be loved by?  Is there some unimpassioned ruling entity out there that says "threesomes" must be made of hopelessly beautiful people, engaged in short term, fleeting and/or risque encounters?  Are there no other "normal" people out there who crave committed intimacy (with...eek! more than one person?) on a long-term, loving basis?  Please help me discover that someone else has forged this path and can offer advice that will make my daily living situation less...impossible.

We have told our story...we hear stories...but have we ever actually MET anyone?  Not all three of them in the same room at the same time.

Good for all you young, sexy, beautiful, successful twenty- or thirty-somethings, engaged in exciting, fulfilling threesomes.  I can hardly wait to read someday about how perfectly and wonderfully things worked out for you.  And I sincerely hope they do.

Haven't we (meaning "most people," I suppose) all been at some point, ridiculously fanciful and full of beautiful, utopian fantasies of the "dream relationship" occuring during our lifetime?  No one said it would be easy.  Only after one has experienced the excruciating emotions of not only love, but loss, hatred, grief, bliss, dissappointment, betrayal, jealousy, and spite (among all others), have we become whole, and therefore finally capable of experiencing that "dream relationship."  In whatever form it may take.

Wait.  Is it just me?

I am human.  I am no more or less special than anyone else.  I want to feel cared for and loved.  I want to care for and love.  I don't need to be labeled.  Not "The Third" or "The Prize" or (God forbid) "The Unicorn."   I am a human being - trying to be as satisfied as possible during the little time I have left on this earth. 

I would appreciate if you would refer to me and treat me as such.

Thank you.

P.S. - I have truly and sincerely, down to my CORE, fully enjoyed and appreciated all the special treatment and attention I have received over the past two years.  However, it wouldn't be fair to any of us if EACH ONE of us didn't feel that wonderful at any given moment.

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.

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.