The Cloverleaf Chronicles – Dissolution

Yes, I’m back. No, the break up was not recent. However, I’m only now arriving at a place where I can bring myself to put anything down in writing. With the exception of this blog, I am exceedingly cognizant of what I put in writing. Call me crazy; I simply consider myself prudent. Obviously, I have no reason to be concerned by divulging the truth here. Instead, my hesitancy is derived from an utterly ridiculous feeling – that once I put down in words that it’s over, it is somehow more permanent than it has been these last few months.

H never liked Halloween and I never quite understood his aversion to it. Might as well have been prophetic. I can assure you, I am now in complete agreement with my better half – Halloween blows! I recognize that I am suffering from a bad case of procrastination as I feel the need to congratulate myself at this juncture for my use of the phrase “my better half”. I am certainly not happy about the situation, but it seems I have finally accepted the fact that I am one of two again, rather than one of four.

On to the story (which I have successfully avoided for the past 200 or so words). There are so many intimate details I could go in to, so much happiness and love I could describe, which is as of yet undocumented. All I can really bring myself to do though is relate the highlights of that final week. B and his wife had told H and I of hot springs that they like to go to. H and I had actually talked about going to hot springs prior to meeting them, but ruled the adventure out once we did more research and discovered that hot springs can cause second and third degree burns occasionally since the temperature is not controlled. B and his wife however knew of a place where there were stalls with bath tubs in them which allowed you to fill with as much hot water from the hot spring as you like and temper with cold water which was on hand as well. This was a great solutions as H was not comfortable being naked in a public place, but with the privacy of individual bath stalls everyone was on board. The four of us drove up in B’s new BMW 5 series; on the way there I sat shotgun and we held hands for the entirety of the lengthy drive. B’s hands were always sweaty; he used to apologize constantly for it and admit that I caused this reaction in him. I thought it was adorable even if not terribly sexy.

When we arrived at the hot springs it was raining. I love the rain and have always had a fantasy of having sex in the rain. I struggle with sex involving water such as in a bath or shower because of trauma caused by E. However, since I’d never had sex in the rain, I hoped it would be fun and different, not scary. Once we parked, we had about a mile and a half long hike to the hot spring. B and I walked holding hands and talking comfortably with one another while B’s wife and H lead the way, having a far more animated discussion as was common. The walk was beautiful; I was so relaxed and happy to be having this experience with my lovers. I love the outdoors, I love rain and I love to explore. H and I would never have been to this place on our own.

Once we got to the hot spring, we split up in to two stalls, leaving me to climb into the bath tub with B. I’m not going to lie, it was challenging. B was extremely patient and kind to me. He didn’t push me and let me know that whatever I was or was not comfortable with was okay by him. The first couple of times he wrapped his arms around me from behind I barely fought off a panic attack. Thankfully, it got easier. B was so relaxed and gentle with me that I was able to release some of the fear that I’d previously learned to respond with and actually enjoy touching him and being touched by him while he held me in the bath. I was both proud of myself and happy I was able to demonstrate how deeply I trusted him. Throughout our relationship, I never wanted to waste a single moment of happiness. I savored everything – even now, I can close my eyes and feel the heat, the steam and him. I’ll never forget the cool rain that fell all afternoon, the smell of the forest or the sound of his voice. That day was a dream come true in so many ways. After we’d been in the bath for a while and I was more comfortable, we did end up having sex in the rain. It wasn’t quite as I’d always fantasized about; instead of lying on my back on a blanket i was bent forward at the waist with him behind me, but it was still him and I and the rain. I was not disappointed.

When we left, I was missing B’s wife. She had sat with H in the back seat on the drive up, she walked with H during the hiking we did and the two of them were in a separate stall at the hot spring. So naturally, I proposed that for the drive back she and I share the back seat. It proved an excellent plan as we spent most of the long drive home making out and feeling each other up! It was early evening when we returned home and there was not specific plan for that night or the next day, Sunday. H and I invited them to come over once they’d gone home to take care of their dog and change. That night found the four of us in H and my’s king size bed getting intimate. I was extremely horny and although I knew B and I would need to be alone before we could start exploring anything even remotely BDSM related, I was aching for it. I whispered to him, “If you’re not going to fuck my ass tonight, you’d better do it soon!” Being the giver that he was, he then proceeded to fuck my ass. It was his first time having anal sex and it was none too shabby at all. We finished while H and B’s wife were still going, so I grabbed B’s hand and told him to come with me. I grabbed a couple towels and pulled him in to the shower. I remember him commenting on how much water we’d been in together recently and I was so grateful to have three lovers who were so patient, kind and trustworthy. That day I had everything.

What I didn’t get was a chance to wake up with them. I very badly wanted the four of us to sleep in one bed together. Once they had agreed to do so, but then changed their mind and went to go to bed. After that I was never able to convince them to agree to spending the night together. It hurt to be denied that intimacy. There were other difficulties I was struggling with as well. Although B admitted having a sadistic streak, his wife did not understand BDSM any more than H does. She and I had been talking about BDSM via email some, so I was not hiding my desire from her as I didn’t want B and I choosing to partake at some point to be an issue. Truly though, the most difficult thing for me was the secrecy our relationship was shrouded in. B and I met because we work together. Not only in the same building, but in the same room. Our desks were 20 feet from one another with line of sight. I wanted to be “work friends” with B – that’s what I was after when he informed me that he had received photos of H and I on an “adult social networking site”, from someone pretending to be H and I, effectively letting the cat out of the bag that he and his wife were on at least one swinging website. The four of us met in person for the first time that same night. Anyway, B was not comfortable being “work friends” with me for a variety of reasons, none of which I felt had any merit. Regardless, I tried to respect his wishes and not push things, but it ate away at me over.

H also felt a great need for secrecy, as his family is very religious. H has a cousin who recently came out of the closet and the scandal in his family was enormous. Us being polyamorous? Definitely not going to fly. B’s wife was also raised by a very religious family and although they live in another state, she actually worked for a religious organization. So, aside from our polyamorous relationship likely putting her job at risk if it were known, she also shared custody of her daughter with her ex-husband and feared losing custody if the four of us were open. So, there I was not giving two shits about possible consequences at work or with my family and everyone else more or less in agreement that it was absolutely imperative that we remain in hiding, indefinitely. Even months after the break up I am still struggling with the secrecy. Feeling forced to hide the fact that I was in love with two out of three people was devastating to me. It was tearing me apart and I truly didn’t know how to continue doing it. I was planning to talk to everyone about how much I was struggling because of this, but never got the chance.

The Thursday following our weekend trip to the hot springs B and I were texting one another at work as usual, when he told me that we couldn’t be “work friends” and gave me a list of reasons why. What he text me was extremely hurtful and, try as I might, I was completely unable to come up with a response. So I just didn’t text him back. The next day the shit hit the fan. B told his wife about what happened and she told H, who then texted me very angry the next morning. I apologized to B, who forgave me, but at that point his wife was calling it quits. H and I couldn’t believe that she would walk away over a communication issue. This was hardly the first time a communication issue had arisen and even H agreed B and I did a far better job of working past it than we ever had before. It didn’t matter. On 10/31/14 my cloverleaf ended.

Later H and I found out that B was taking his frustrations out on his wife and forcing her to hide things from H and I, issues that affected all of us. Ultimately, the bottom line was that B wanted me and that’s all he was thinking about. He was never okay with his wife being with H (even though he said he was), and he didn’t want me with H either. He wanted to have everything his way and under his control, and for H to just magically disappear. For all his good points, B is a poor communicator, he is jealous, controlling and unable to be honest with himself, let alone others. B and his wife’s marriage is built on the pair of them lying to themselves and to each other. Being involved with H and I threw into stark relief the lies in their marriage and unfortunately separated them from us because we did not encounter any of the issues they were busy hiding from us all along, as our marriage is based on honesty. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to say my marriage is perfect. But, it’s a hell of a lot more honest and open than theirs is. At first we tried to be friends, but that fell apart in a week. Their marriage is literally too fragile for them to have friends. B feels too threatened by his wife having friends and he is too controlling to have friends of his own. It was an extremely sad ending, realizing that the “committed relationship” the four of us had agreed we were in was nothing but a facade on their end.

I still see B at work. We don’t talk, we try not to even look at one another and are mostly successful. Luckily our positions don’t interact much, and I was able to move to a different desk a bit further away from him thanks to a very timely excuse that arose. But still. I trusted him, I fell in love with him. I opened up to him and told him things I’ve never told anyone, ever. Including H. Granted, that primarily consisted of BDSM related fantasies, but still. I wanted what I thought the four of us had so badly. I was all in. I admit I always thought I would lose them, that we wouldn’t last forever. The good thing about that fact is that I never wasted a moment. The unfortunate things is that my cynicism was proven correct in spades. Now I’m a polyamorous submissive with only one partner, who has no comprehension of BDSM whatsoever.

Since the break up our sex life has been all messed up. H has talked about wanting to swing again but I’m just not there yet. I don’t know if I ever will be. H made it exceedingly clear that he never wants to be involved in “something like that” again. He never did like the term polyamorous, I’m not sure why. So for now it’s just the two of us, and it’s getting more and more difficult for me to handle my desires with no foreseeable outlet. I could continue on for hours, but what I’d set out to do was tell the end of a particular journey and I’ve done as much as I’m capable at this point. In closing let me just say, St. Patrick’s Day will be a close second for the title of my Most Hated Holiday.

Playing With Fire

Below are two companion essays I wrote (and submitted!) in high school about my relationship with V (http://wp.me/s4jKhN-consent). These were both written in the fall of 2007, so I do hope ya’ll will forgive any immaturity in the writing. The assignment for the initial essay was to write a “descriptive essay”; the assignment for the second was to write a “narrative essay”.

 

Lost Love

 

I’ve never felt anything in the world like this before. When I am with this amazing man, I can’t see anything around me; the entire world fades away and all I see is him. I don’t know how I survived without him for so long or how I could ever do so again. The mere thought of him gets my heart racing and a nervous excitement nearly overwhelms me. Standing here with me, suddenly he is no longer an obsessive thought but a tangible presence for me to embrace and adore. But as I look into his soft, loving eyes, I know that this is truly the last time – it is time to say goodbye. My enchantment in finally seeing him is overshadowed by a sense of impending doom. Although this man whom I long for and dream about is here beside me, I am already beginning to feel the pain of our separation looming over us.

When I look into his deep brown eyes, I see the world before me. Everything I am, all that I could ever want or need is here, in him. He gently takes hold of my hand. Looking down, I see our fingers intertwined and feel that he is reaching out and embracing not just my hand, but my very being, my soul even. He has become such a part of me, and I of him, that I could no sooner separate from him than I would detach an arm or a leg. I cannot imagine me without him ever again; experiencing the absence of his touch, his smell, his presence; it would be no less than torture! This horrible, wretched day must be no more than a nightmare, a reflection of the deepest fears of my unconscious mind. We are a part of each other, for I have given my heart to him freely and knowingly, aware of the consequences and gladly accepting them in return for his love. I have never experienced a love of this magnitude before; I had hardly even imagined it possible! Surely we must be meant to be together for all of time. This perfect man of mine, this perfect love, how can we just end it, just say goodbye?

While my attention is still focused on our hands, I feel him take a step closer to me. I want to look up at him again, to take comfort in the way he looks at me, but find that I can’t. I’m plagued by despair, lacking the strength to look again into his bright, familiar eyes which I must soon leave behind and try to forget. Our bodies are so close now, almost touching. My breath catches in my chest. His presence has such a grip on me I feel I can hardly think or move, as though I no longer have control over myself. While I still firmly grasp his left hand – almost as though it was a lifeline, an unwavering connection to him – he lifts his right to my face, brushing it lightly against my cheek. This intimate gesture nearly makes my heart burst as I feel his soft touch against my skin. As though I have gained strength simply from this slight contact, I look once again into his beautiful face. He smiles down at me and I want nothing more than to freeze us in this perfect moment for the rest of time, to be with him forever. He moves his hand up and brushes the hair out of my face, gently placing it behind my ear. The tenderness in his eyes is breathtaking, and I can see that he cares every bit as much as I do. He lifts his hands and puts them lightly in my hair. While still gazing at me as though he can see into my very soul, he moves closer, finally kissing me. My eyes close as I feel his soft lips on mine. I snake my arms around him, holding him tight. Time begins to slip away and I could spend eternity in this single perfect moment.

We separate, and as I look at him I realize that he is more beautiful to me in this moment than ever before. He is looking at me as though I am everything he has ever sought in his life, as though he has found the world in my eyes as I have in his. Looking at him, I can see that he loves me, and I realize that no other man will ever look at me the way he is at this very moment. He breaks this placid silence and I hear his low, confident voice quietly tell me, “You are beautiful.” My heart melts at his gentle words. My knees lose the last of their strength, and I feel such an incredible need for him. Just when I feel that surely I am about to fall, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in tight and holding me in his strong arms.

He begins to gently stroke my back while still holding me close. I feel him breathing, slowly and softly, his chest rising and falling against me. As he continues to hold me tight, I gradually become aware of his heartbeat. Quiet but strong, I am lulled by its gentle rhythm. I could almost fall asleep in his arms, all the tension and anxiety have faded completely. At last I feel at peace, comfortable and relaxed, and above all, happy. The pain of losing him is momentarily pushed from my mind, and I am at ease in his gentle embrace.

Holding hands, we turn our backs on the beauty that has surrounded us and depart. I momentarily allow him to fall into the back of my mind while I admire this perfect day. As the sun shines warmly on us and a soft breeze whispers in our ears, we walk across a carpet of green. The birds serenade us from their perches and the squirrels play in the trees. This place is flawless, surreal almost. It personifies our feelings and perfectly expresses the splendor and intensity of our affection.

This beautiful scenery is not enough to distract me from him for long, and my mind begins to stumble down the winding road that holds the memories of our relationship. Perfectly imperfect, together against all odds; star-crossed lovers, as Shakespeare would say. Every moment we had together was cherished. We reveled in the sheer wonder of each other and our love. Perhaps we weren’t meant to be together; unquestionably the world was against us. But we stole away together every chance we got, and are now closer than anyone could ever know. We shared a secret world, and wouldn’t have wished it any other way.

He promises me that one day we will be together again, even if we have to run away from the world. But for now, it’s goodbye. We walk silently away, hand in hand. I had so hoped not to cry, but the hot tears well up and, one by one, begin to trickle down my cheeks. The cruel world has finally won, and our time together is over. What the future holds, neither of us can know. But we can hope, and think of each other with all the love and tenderness that has marked our time together. Just because we are separated does not mean that we will ever stop caring. I take some comfort in this thought as we depart.

While watching him drive away, my heart finally breaks. I cry harder than I can ever remember crying, standing rooted to the spot for what feels like an eternity. I can no longer hold myself up, finally collapsing on the ground, crying alone. My love, the man of my dreams, is to be mine no more.

 

Playing With Fire

 

Everyone knows that if you play with fire, eventually you get burned. No matter how hard you may try to evade it, it is inevitable. And the longer you hazard the chance, the more severe the burn. I have spent the majority of this year playing with fire, all because I fell in love with the wrong guy. When all of your instincts tell you that something is wrong, and everyone around you knows that you are in way over your head, how can you just say, “Well, shit, I guess this is over”? Love sucks you in and once it has you in its clutches, there is no escape. When I look into his eyes there is nothing else in the world that matters, and all my doubts and guilt dissolve. I can never seem to walk away, no matter how hard I try. So I keep dancing his delicate dance with the fire that can so easily destroy my life.

It all started innocently enough, just one person adding another to her friend’s list on the notorious MySpace. Now I understand why it has such a bad reputation. What began as an innocent flirtation, a small flame teasing its way into existence, quickly swelled into a consuming wildfire spreading out of control and dominating every aspect of both our lives. Seventeen-year-old girls don’t get to fall in love with twenty-four-year-old men who are husbands and fathers. And even more importantly, adult men who are married and have a child don’t fall in love with seventeen-year-old girls.

There is a reason passion is described as a flame. It burns and grows inside people haphazardly and swiftly becomes beyond control. It is unpredictable like the flame, and once it begins it develops a life of its own. Unfortunately we cannot choose whom we fall in love with or how hard we fall; I never had any chance of turning away from my feelings for him. I knew that I was doomed when I got the e-mail saying simply, “I like you too.”

I made him tell me three more times before I believe that he was saying what I was hearing. I was terrified that he would say it was a mistake and he only meant that he liked me as a friend, but at the same time part of me was praying that he would do so, quickly, so that I could forget about what this meant lie ahead.

People often assume that teenagers are sneaky and can get away with a lot, but that certainly isn’t the case in my life. My parents know exactly where I am and what I’m doing at all times. No doubt you can imagine the difficulties I encountered in trying to have a relationship my parents know nothing about. Not to mention one that was illegal.

We were intoxicated by each other. And what you learn in health class about your judgment being the first thing to go, well it’s true. We were both fully aware of how wrong it was, we just didn’t care. All that mattered was that we got to see each other, got to feel that high one more time. When we were together we lost our minds, went completely crazy. When I looked into his eyes, I could see the fire. I never saw that look except for during our secret rendezvous.

The problem with this type of relationship is how to end it. We were not only lovers, we were close friends who depended on each other for support. I believe we have ended our relationship three times to date, and at the moment are still close friends. But that keeps leading us back to that burning desire to be together, and our will wears thin over time. We fall so easily back into our old habits, weak and fallible as we are. Are we in love, or are we just intoxicated? I try to answer that question every day. And if we are in love, does it matter? I don’t know.

But for now, we are friends. He is one of the most important people in the world to me, and his friendship is my anchor during the worst of times. We depend on each other for so much that drawing the line is nearly impossible. It is only made more difficult by the fact that neither of us wants to draw the line. So we continue to talk and be the most intimate of friends as our relationship lurches from one extreme to the other – or, at least, it feels extreme to us.