Love, lust and luck
By Brittney M Walker
(The photo has nothing to do with this time in my life…. I think though it depicts how I was feeling during this time … hehehe)
Newly freed of relationship obligations and shed of any judgment, I am excited to try new men. Issa Ray’s latest season of “Insecure” was airing simultaneously and I was eating up all the drama on “Being Mary Jane.” Coincidence? Meh…
I have a lover, a friend turned lover. He’s married but polyamorous. We hang, smoke, make etheric love, chill. For us, it’s perfect. No obligations to one another except for the emotional responsibility we both in action agree to. We care for each other like we would care for ourselves. The wind is in our sails.
I like this idea. I feel, energized. Another man enters my sphere, he more or less got my juices flowin’. “Sex only,” I tell him. It’s good too. We also begin to hang, do friend things and share some feelings, some emotional responsibilities. He’s now a lover. He also has a woman, but they’re polyamorous.
Pause: my mama would say, “ew that’s just nasty.” I guess I’m nasty.
Anyway, lovers, spring/summer, sex, smoke, heat, single-ness. It’s great.
I give a key to lover number one. I leave town and want him to keep my plants watered. They die under his care. *sideeye*
Summer gets a little warmer. I am spending time hard core with both. It’s exciting, intriguing. I’m learning a lot about myself, my needs, my tolerances, my desires. It’s an eye-opening experience in which I notice an internal transformation I’m unsure would happen otherwise. I occasionally share the juicy parts with a couple of my friends that also watch “Insecure.”
“You are Issa!” they say sometimes. You know how Issa is in the show: gettin’ hers but also a bit of a mess. I ain’t her! I refuse to completely admit I am like her in many ways. I think sometimes I am more like Molly.
Debates about polyamory fuel our text discussions. We chat about whether or not it’s a cop out for commitment. If it’s just greedy and irresponsible.
While there is no strong consensus on the topic, we all have our thoughts and varying opinions and experiences with this way of life. I settle that polyamory is nice, beautiful in fact, if everyone involved, lovers, husbands, wives and friends, is up for it. Or in the very least, everyone is handled with care and responsibly.
Yeah, if everyone is up for it and doing his or her part, including me.
There is a day/night (summer days and nights blend that year) lover number two is over. We have some acrobatic sex, per usual. The night goes on and he falls asleep. I remember that lover number one said earlier that day he is gonna stop by in the evening after work. I don’t hear from him and concede that if I don’t hear from him, he ain’t coming. It was already after 1am last I checked. So lover number two and I stay naked in bed, slumbering. I keep my phone nearby just in case the other one pings me.
My door is unlocking at around 4am and I hear it opening. I jump the fuck up and yell, “Noooo!!”
In my sleepiness, in the black gray light of the night, I can see the door was only half open. The bed is to the back of the door when opened. Lover number two in bed, naked whispers, “What’s going on?”
I say something like, “He wasn’t supposed to do that…” use the key for any other purpose than to enter my home with my permission.
The door stops mid-open. Then it begins to close. Judging by lover number two’s body language, is trying to decide if he needs to fight or stay quiet. I tell him to stay. I get up, find something to cover my shame with. A long t-shirt. I step out of the door and see the back of lover number one’s head bouncing as he’s clogging down the stairs.
The only thing I could muster up, despite my irritation, is, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”
He, being gracious as he has always been, says, “It’s ok, it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He comes back up the stairs just enough to kiss me on the cheek.
I have sooo many feelings all mixed up inside. Embarrassment that my two lovers almost meet. Shame that I didn’t coordinate properly. Irritation because I didn’t take my keys back. Contemplative because I’m wondering if I’m just as messy as Issa or heartless like Mary Jane. But I’m guiltily delighted because I think the whole thing is hilarious and rich.
“This is my life! I think while laying back in bed with lover number two.” This shit is dooooope! I sort of chuckle as I settle back in bed.
The summer continues and both lovers are still in tact. I never actually know if lover number one ever knew what was up. I can only suspect so.
The two relationships remain normal throughout the summer with their separate highlights and lowlights, like any relationship.