Fair warning.

I'm on a bit of a bender, because just tonight I told my nearly 20 year-old daughter about the Trifecta, and it was (in that way only a 20 year-old can make it) ridiculously anticlimactic.  I'm NOT a fan of drama, and I dreaded "the talk," but c'mon - it's a threesome!  Apparently she has suspected, and/or all-out known about it for a long time.  There will be no scandalous Facebook posts from HER on that topic tonight.  Well...I am glad she didn't run screaming, that's the most important thing.

Regarding Missy's post of earlier this evening though, I do appreciate (admire?) her confidence that she can show me she loves me SO MUCH every single day, that I should just get over our inability to make a formal committment.  Maybe I will be!  I have been so far.  And I mean that sincerely.  But I won't be ashamed of the fact that I'm jealous that THEY have the security of marriage, while I am left feeling a little disposable.  Last hired, first fired - isn't that the way it works?  I will be the one that can't go to Red's Corporate Christmas Party.  Or Missy's Physician Appreciation Dinner.  And I will be the one who everyone wonders about at the holiday dinner or Super Bowl Party "who is that again, and why is she here?"  They are a given...the norm...the always accepted.  People who knew them "pre-me" will always root for their relationship to prevail (since the Trifecta is doomed, right?), and people who knew me before will always wonder why I can't go find a man (or woman) of my own.  And bonus...(not)...I can be voted off the island by not one, but two people, in a way that neither of them will have to worry about.  I won't get the health benefits or life insurance or hospital-visitation-on-the-death-bed privileges they are afforded (ok, that's a little far reaching, I know, haha).  But you catch my drift, right?

Of course, on another day, when I'm in a different mood...I am unbelievably humbled by the knowledge that my existence has changed their relationship forever, whether I like it or not.  No matter how good or bad this all turns out, their marriage will never be the same.  That is a lot of responsibility.  Responsibility that I sometimes don't feel capable of handling.  I didn't expect that.  In it's simplest terms, if they kick me to the curb, they hurt one person.  If I leave, I damage two.

Therein lies the difference between a threesome and the Trifecta.  We love, we suffer, we communicate, we celebrate, we fear, we worry...in a sometimes blissful, sometimes painful, but in always a brutally honest way.

Life Without Promises

It has been established in this forum that We Are Doomed. (See the very most hit-upon post, "Impossible Things", for proof.) So it shouldn't be any surprise that the issue of our untenable future arises from time to time.

At the moment, the curious feature of the Trifecta, for me, is that we are (1) persisting longer than I would have thought, and (2) still under the specter of doom at all times. I guess I imagined that either the one fact or the other would have prevailed by now. Because:

Red is a planner.

Chloe is a romantic.

I am a rebel.

My long-term relationships are three, and they go like this: I've been married to Red for six years, with him for eleven. Before that I was married for five years. Before that, I lived with a man for six years, who never promised to marry me nor have kids nor nothing. (I have not had children of my own, can't remember if I've mentioned that, and never will -- I love my stepchildren and that's plenty.) That first marriage was a mistake. I try to make a practice of "No Regret", so I'll go on record as saying I learned from it. There were no kids, no financial entanglements, it was easy to extricate myself from. But, it was ... unfortunate.

The previous relationship, on the other hand, was very meaningful to me. Let's call him Andrew. From the start, Andrew and I deferred the notion of marriage as Something Other People Do, because they need to feel like they have some official constraint keeping them together when they don't want to be. We didn't rule it out, the getting married thing, but we never considered it crucial. We had ups and downs -- I was in grad school, he was working, we were poor -- and we were very different personalities. He was quiet and reserved, I was bubbly and social. But together we had lots of friends, had an active life, enjoyed each other's company, and learned a lot from each other. It broke apart when I saw he was not all that jazzed about coming with me when my job would require relocating. Many months ahead, I said "if you're not into it, just tell me". He said he would. He didn't. I got a job in another city, and he didn't want to move. I declared that we were done. He said OK. It came time for me to move, and then he decided he couldn't live without me and asked me to marry him. I said: too late.

That makes it sound sad. In fact, most of the six years were great. The thing that made me and Andrew different from Red and his previous wife, or Chloe and her previous husband, is that we did not expect or extract from one another any promises about the future. I wanted to know he would stay with me, but I was willing to live without a ring or a wedding. I did not need a roadmap or a five-year plan. Did not build fantasies of how we would meld our families. We imagined how we would grow old together, but every time we had a storm of conflict, we made an active choice whether to stay together or go our separate ways. There was no legal bond, no family pressure, no structure of shame to influence our decision. Since we were already broke, there was no financial advantage or penalty to either of us for staying or going. And we stayed together longer than either of my marriages (so far).

Why am I going on about an old boyfriend in a blog about the Trifecta? (Bad form, you know, to wax rhapsodic about a partner from the past.)

Because it is very painful right now for Chloe to have no sense of security. No goal of official sanction in the future. Yes, I too wish we three could have such a thing -- but as Chloe observes, Red and I already have the societally acceptable bond. There is no "normal" room for any expansion of that relationship, only the secret versus the open-but-unconventional.

Her quandary causes me pain. I can't un-marry myself from Red (I mean I could, but it would be pointless). I can't invent some alternate universe in which our arrangement becomes widely accepted and we announce ourselves as newlyweds.

What I can do, since I am over-the-cliff in love with her, is make a living promise, every day: I care about you. You matter. I will support you, even on a day when I'm tired and sad and grouchy. I will shower all my dizzy happiness on you when a day is good.

That's what I mean when I say "I love you" to Red, too: but there's a visible symbol on my finger that holds me to it, not to mention a bunch of family. I want for both Red and Chloe to know that I can make a life of love -- I know how to do it, I've done it before -- where you don't have words like "wife" and "husband" to fall back on. In my twenties, Andrew and I joked about whether "mate" might be the best term to use for what we meant to each other. Now in my forties, I just want to soak up the warmth of my two lovers and language be damned.

Exploding Head.

Ask anyone: I am chatty. She’s a talker, that Missy. Can’t shut her up. Robs a room of all its oxygen, she does, if you give her half a chance.

When Chloe started this blog, I was afraid I’d have to sit on my hands so as not to monopolize the thing. Turns out, although I do have a lot to say – a whole freakin hell of a lot to say – my work keeps me tied up (and talked out*) so much that I rarely write these days.

Enough of that.

My head is at risk of asploding, if I don’t get the contents out in the form of words. There is so much to say. About the Trifecta, about each of my lovers, about all of us – so much more than “Christ this is complicated” or “dude this is awesome!”, which I figure is what comes across as the chorus and verse.

The very fact of me jotting down a stream-of-consciousness list of things I wanted to write about, for heaven’s sake, became a point of trauma the other day. Chloe was worried that I was generating a catalog of “Things That Suck”, and I don’t blame her – it wasn’t true, but was not a ridiculous expectation. You see, when it comes to scorekeeping (which I abhor, loudly) … I am the biggest offender. Maybe because professionally, societally, familially, I have the most to lose if we are open about our ménage a trois? Could be, or maybe I’m more petty and vindictive than I like to think I am. Probably both.

A few weeks ago we were on our way to our Desert Getaway Town for the weekend: Red was driving, Chloe had shotgun, and I was in the back of the car (the automotive geography of a threesome is always an interesting factor in a road-trip conversation). The topic turned to All That Holiday Shit. Our weekend in DGT was the reward for getting through the season, and we were processing early so as to dispense with the yucky stuff and move on to the drinking and hot sex. I stopped Chloe cold when she was making some remark about hating how we have to be so guarded about our affection around other people. She, I pointed out, is just about never the instigator of the stuff that gets us in trouble. It’s Red. Maybe because he’s the boy, whatever, doesn’t matter, but I was tired of hearing about how “we” have to watch ourselves when really it’s HIM who needs to keep a lid on it.

And somehow she did this thing, in the most sensible way possible, I don’t even remember the words – Chloe succinctly observed that I keep reviewing the same miserable list of fuckups, in a way that shames Red, and is a buzzkill for all of us. Somehow she did this without me feeling attacked or getting defensive or anything. There was just this moment of clarity, and I said “you’re right”.

Okay. So that’s an example of the emotional machinery at work. I won’t always feel the way I oughtta, but I can gain insight sometimes, with a little help from my friends.

Now. The more tangible machinery.

There is a HEAP of rich material I could share here about the sex we have. Now that we’re going on two years together, it’s not the brand new shiny experience it was – but we do make new discoveries, even as we settle into comfortable patterns. If I really had the nerve, I could burn this site down with tales of our smokin’ hot lovemaking. But I am not accustomed to writing porn.

I’ll get to a point, sometime, when I feel I can strike the right note. For today just a glimpse: there was a moment a few nights ago, when I had a nearly religious vision. I was kneeling behind Red as he was on top of Chloe, thrusting in the dark, and I was stroking his back, her legs – hearing her breath deepen, feeling her push up against him. I slid my hands up along her hips, cupping them, elevating her pelvis just a little … and a fleeting image raced through my mind, of standing on the chancel steps, facing the altar, raising up the heavy silver offertory bowl as the priest consecrated the congregation’s offering on Sunday morning. Her warm, smooth skin is the very opposite of that bowl. But the vessel I was holding did feel as though it was being blessed – transformed – as her orgasm became inevitable.

(Some of you might not find a churchy image a turn-on. Me? I almost came myself, at that moment.)

Stay tuned.

*It’s time I just say it: my job involves talking and listening all day. I’m not just a doctor, I’m a psychiatrist. So, yeah, it’s pretty ironic that I get tongue-tied here. But I’m not dumb enough to think my training makes me a mind-reader, or exempts me from the need to share what’s in my head about the Trifecta.

Reflection.

I have been reflecting back on the holidays, and considering how different they were than last year.

The funniest thing is that I was wrong (of course) when I thought I knew what to expect, and that things would be easier this year than last.  It's funny to me because I always try to remember that things hardly ever turn out as planned and oftentimes turn out differently than I could've ever imagined. I still somehow get lazy and fall back into the same pattern of thinking "oh, we've got this."  I never learn.

Some things are a given...yes, we will still need to hide this from the kids, yes, we will still need to behave in public (even in places where we THINK we are among open-minded people), yes, we will still have to struggle daily with living separately and the lack of time we have alone together, etcetera.  But life always has new and surprising ways of complicating matters at the most unexpected times.

Missy took her mom to lunch one day recently, which somehow turned into her coming out about the Trifecta.  I sincerely felt like vomiting.  I had to sit down - my heart was racing and I felt physically ill.  When is the last time you felt like that?  My belly was better after the explanation and description of how it went down, and what her mom thought about it.  Still, I didn't fully recover until sometime that evening.

At some point before Christmas, when relatives were visiting and the kids were decorating the tree at Missy & Red's house, one of the kids (an in-law) apparently saw something intimate (yet tame) go down between Red and I, and she then talked to Red's kids about it and Missy's sister - complicated.  On one hand, I do realize that we sometimes get sloppy about keeping up appearances, and we shouldn't let things like that happen.  On the other hand, I was really ticked off that because of one kid (who we hardly ever see), the goodness of our evening was erased.  It took the good memories away and turned them ugly and shameful.  Incidents like these are always discussed and worked out as much as they can be, but they remain on an ever-growing list of blame - whose fault was it that this "thing" happened, and when will the nasty, hateful list be brought up again...

Thank goodness there are always (sometimes daily) funny, ridiculous, sweet, loving, happy, sensual things that make those other things so much less bad. 

So upon reflection, the holidays were really no easier or more comfortable for me than the first time we were together for them, but I suppose I'll still keep the memories.  And maybe next year I'll remember to expect the unexpected...or take more Valium.

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.

No matter what...this too shall pass.

Impermanence. 

I am striving not to cling TOO desperately to the good times in life and despise the bad.  I suspect it is best to live in each moment as much as possible, knowing that the experience will be over soon enough and possibly even forgotten one day - although hopefully not.

Lately, returning in my mind to both the beautiful memories and the tremendous pain I have felt since the birth of the Trifecta has kept my entire being grounded in reality, while still teetering on the brink of fantasy.  I can't speak for everyone, but looking back, I feel like we are all now such tremendously different people than we were at the beginning (when we thought we were wise and knew ourselves so well).  Back then I imagined there was no way of telling where or who we would be right now.

It is a busy time of year.  It is a busy time in life.  In all things, I will let myself actually FEEL, so as not to get to the end and realize I was too busy to notice the details.  There are moments that I don't want to end and there are times that I wish "it" would all go away, but the impermanence is an equalizing factor.  Impermanence brings balance.  No decisions will be made in my mind based solely on a single experience or set of similar experiences, because that would surely be representative of only one elevation of the roller coaster we're on.

Until the end, I hope to laugh a little more loudly than I should, cry a little more often, and pause a moment too long before I reply.  I will be aware of that strange look that crosses my face when I say something I'm not really sure about, but I will say it anyhow.  I will want to be alone when it's best to be around others, and I will likely blurt things out when it's best to keep quiet. 

I have faith that it will all work itself out in the end.

Still crazy after all of these months

It's December and the Trifecta is well into its second year and going strong. Chloe and her daughter have a sweet little dog now and have moved into a nicer apartment. Chloe and Missy are still colleagues at work and that is going pretty well. I'm doing fine as well.

We've overcome a lot of challenges together. one of the nice things about there being three of us is that it keeps us honest. We know that we've got two others to make decisions with, and anything we come up with gets double the scrutiny, and also double the refining. Thusly we make good decisions together.

Each of our experiences of the relationship is rather different. We each get different things from being in this relationship. I love the challenge of being with two women. It occupies my mind and body, it pushes me to be a better man and a more complete individual. I have to be more sweet, more strong, more wise and more clever. And with double the scruinty, I can't get away with mailing it in, ever. The Trifecta keeps me sharp and focused.

I love Missy and Chloe. They are my life. They are my heart. More than anything, I want to deserve them, and keep on deserving them.

Love,

Red