Member-only story
The Connection: So it begins…
Falling into polyamory in the most unexpected way
It was a simple conversation, but the spark the connection brought was anything but simple. The electricity left a high that carries to the next day. “Ignore it! It is your imagination.” Then there was another conversation. And another. This doesn’t feel like imagination.
Stress, confusion, uncertainty give way to comfort when he walks into a room. I can breathe. What is this? How does this man make me feel safe?
A dark afternoon — my mind races. How I long to see him, to hold him and to share the pain, acknowledge the unfairness — the stupidity of it all. Wait! Hold him? Hold his heart? Now my heart races. How did I get here?
The music always finds my heart…always. Names the emotion and leaves me nowhere to run. How can this be? The playlist spells it out — desire, need, longing, want, passion. None of it matters — there are commitments and other matters that make this all an exercise in complete futility.
Yet that connection, lingering like our conversations. The more I see of his mind, the more glimpses of his heart, and those hands. I wonder what he could make me feel with those hands?
This has no place…but the dreams, the fantasies. How did he intrude into those spaces? He walks…
