marriage

June 2, 2023

On Repeat in My Head

The hubby and I have had many odd adventures throughout our nearly 20 years together. The weirder and more bizarre the better. They are the stories we tell when we’re drunk with friends or strangers. And I try and stick to the actual events as much as possible, because nothing is more disingenuous than fabricating details of a story to try and make it funny. It’s why I could never be a comedian. I can’t lie about details for the sake of a laugh.

I have this habit of putting a single song on repeat for hours, until the song holds little to no meaning for me. What I have discovered in my many TikToks is this is a habit of people with ADHD. Well, you pegged me again, you creepy app. Since last night I have been obsessed with a YouTube video of an unreleased Taylor Swift song. I don’t quite understand why this one didn’t make the cut for her album, it is truly phenomenal and I am OBSESSED. I’d post it here but I don’t want it to somehow get caught by the TSMachine and have them remove it. My queen should just release it! But she’s probably just waiting to do so with Lover Taylor’s Version. Sneaky gal.

Todays obsession reminded me of my first trip to London for my Honeymoon/Birthday. We dove head first into this trip without any careful planning. All we had on the agenda was our stay, a trip to Leavesden to experience the sets of Harry Potter (a different time kids), and we had purchased the “London Pass.” Nothing more. Which is kind of our M.O., honestly. I personally feel like that is the best way to travel because it always results in the weirdest stories. As in this one…

Charlie had asked “what are the most ‘English’ things you can do?” And the most obvious and desperately pathetic was to have “authentic” fish and chips. Of course we’ve had them here, but I thought maybe (just maybe) they were different in the land in which is originated. And… It did not disappoint.

The newly minted husband researched and found a place that was supposedly “the best fish and chips in London.” Obviously they had given themselves that name because… Dear god.

We grabbed a black cabby and made our way across town to a residential neighborhood to go to this hole in the wall restaurant. We walked in and the fry cook was listening to this sad, somber song at ear splitting levels. We made our order and then went and sat on the right side of the shop which I thought was this huge dining area. Oh no. It was this thin strip of space, with a counter attached to the wall with a full length mirror immediately above.

“This is going to be fun,” I had said, gesturing to my reflection. “I get to watch myself as I eat!”

“Eh, it’ll be fine.”

As we waited the sound level of the music was undeterred. At least it was an okay song. I have a tendency of getting easily irritated with music I do not like.

We got our fish and began eating. That’s when we became abundantly clear that the scales were still on the unbattered side of the fish.

“Oh my god,” I said, showing him the steely-gray side of my meal.

“Oh, that’s weird,” Charlie said, “Maybe that’s just… No. Mine too. Maybe that’s just how they do it.”

“Well, they’re doing it wrong.”

He chuckled, “Is that so? The place that originated-“

“Yes.”

As we picked it at our fish, trying to avoid the scales and the reflection of our grimaces in the mirror, it became abundantly clear that the song that had been playing when we walked in was on repeat. I started to laugh to myself as I concocted this elaborate story in my head how the fry cook was going through a recent break-up and just could not stop listening to this song.

I imagined the cashier reaching their limit and turning to him, “Oy, Trev, please play anything else. I beg of you!”

And Trevor would continue on, frying fish and singing along to the song. (Did I mention the fry cook had been singing along to the multiple repeats?)

The two of us couldn’t stand looking at ourselves eat this scaly fish any longer, while Trevor went through the motions, so we headed out onto the street and walked back to our hotel.

This is where I fell even more in love with the city. (Side note, it was guy fox day.) The gentle orange glow of the street lamps lit our way, as we passed by an old, old, old cemetery and a couple of boys who were kissing and hugging until they saw us coming their way. I wanted to say “Don’t worry, boys, this is my husband.”

Now that I have successfully bored you with my lackluster story, I will return to my repeated listen to “Need” by Taylor Swift. Please, excuse me.

November 28, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 40 – Typical / Beautiful Mess

I’m sad that this band didn’t have any other hits after this one. The whole album is incredible and I fail to find a song that doesn’t rock or hit an emotional nerve.

The first time I heard “Typical” was by a “dedication” from my husband to me. This song climbed to popularity (on our local radio station) on the heels of yet another one of Charlie’s and my break-ups. However, this time was different. We may have “broken-up” but we continued to live together, sleep in the same bed, etc… Basically we created the life we have now. Except we were “broken-up.” My husband chose this route because he didn’t want to do an “open relationship.” He and I were of the same mind, at the time, and thought that those types of relationships were beneath us. They were stereotypically gay and we weren’t the norm. (Yet ever the typical fags…)

During this time the idea was for me to work on myself. I had cheated on him repeatedly over the three year relationship. I was meant to take this time to reflect and figure out if I wanted us to stay together or not. It was also at this time when I entered into the SAA program as part of “working on myself.”

Despite societal belief that it isn’t a real addiction, I firmly believe that it is. It’s received such a negative perception because it appears to have been used as justification for the infidelity of high profile celebrities. While the validity of that assumption can go either way, I tend to think there is truth in it.

For most addicts they have to go to a source to get their high. They have to drink, smoke, shoot, snort, and eat their demons. While sex addiction is an obsession over the chemical rush that forever resides in our brains. That overpowering sense of euphoria that fills our bodies from head to toe after ejaculation. Sometimes it’s purely the heightened state of mind that one may get caught or the danger of the action itself. In those cases it may be more of an “adrenaline junky” than sex addiction. Either way… these are substances we don’t have to go anywhere to abuse. We have it at the ready on a moments notice.

To this day I use sex as a way of coping. Whenever I feel disgusting about my body image or self-worth I head to some cruising spot or use the apps to find someone to want me, because at that moment I sure as shit don’t. Their approval gives me the go ahead to feel good about myself. And the reinforcement of the euphoric rush just rewards the behavior. Afterwards I feel nothing but shame and guilt in my actions and thus begins the addictive cycle.

For years I ran SAA meetings, after having the responsibility to find us a new location thrust upon me. I was invested. I had a few sponsors try and get me through the steps and even took on the responsibility sponsoring two people. However, I wasn’t what they needed. I have a more “it’s your responsibility not mine” approach to it. I will get one the info, be an anchor to keep one centered, or be a shoulder to cry on, but I will not be your parent. That is not my job. I also require people to be relatively self-aware and that isn’t something you cannot force someone into. You can’t even lead them to the it. They have to discover that on their own.

Even though I love my husband more than anything, I will be by his side until the very end, but this song is one that I use for emotional cutting. Even now… It’s one I can put on, as a joke to recount how someone one time called me a whore, but in reality it’s my way of harming myself. Because I am nothing more than a typical whore.

I think it doubly hurts because he has only ever “given” me one other song, and I derive so much worth and love from a song “dedication.” It’s truly bizarre.

It should be noted that at the same time as this song he gave me another one that… It encapsulates everything we had gone through at that time, and even still go through. It was so uplifting and beautiful for me and was the perfect balance that this song brought. “Typical” cut me down but “A Beautiful Mess” built me back up. To this day, if I’m alone, I will ugly cry to it.

At first listen it sounds like an insulting song, but it 1,000% is not. So, I will leave you with Jason Mraz.

September 29, 2022

The Soundtrack of my Life – 34 – Chicago

After a 3 day stay in Chicago we are back on the road heading to Akron. This little road trip of mine was concocted to celebrate the one we took for the hubs’s second opinion at the Mayo Clinic. It was also a defiant choice because he told me previously that he wanted our Alaskan cruise to be his last trip. I can’t have that. Not yet. He has since recanted his statement. Instead he has corrected it to be “no more road trips. Only cruises.”

That’s fine, punkin. Whatever you want.

Other than the title of the song, this doesn’t make me think of Chicago in the slightest. I thought it was a good choice seeing as how we had just been there. Expect the forthcoming songs to be similar in nature. What’s fun with my future choices is that they do in fact remind me of moments in my life.

The first time I ever heard this song, and immediately became obsessed with it, was from the opening credits of the Netflix show “The Politician.” It may have aired in 2019 but I didn’t get around to watching it until the first Covid lockdown. It had been a special request watch from the bf since it had his crush, Ben Platt. My interest in a Ryan Murphy program was minimal at best. So, I had kept pushing it off until we were faced with copious amounts of time and nothing to fill it with.

Covid truly changed my life. As I’m sure it did for everyone. But it feels like for me it changed everything significantly moreso. For the better.

Up until lockdown, the interaction between my husband (Charlie) and my bf (Josh) ranged from non-existent to limited. For the first 2 years of Josh’s and my relationship it had been very, very separate. Per the bf’s request and just the newness of polyamory for all of us. When everything closed and we couldn’t go anywhere, we were forced together.

We all started watching tv together in silence. It was awkward at first. Josh didn’t know how to act around Charlie and vice versa. It took some time to reroute old habits to where they began to have their own rapport.

My two relationships are very different in how they function. My husband is not very affectionate, we are more mentally intimate (conversations/debates/discussion.) Physical intimacy is just not who Charlie is. A peck on the lips every once in awhile satisfies his needs.

The boyfriend on the other hand… he’s attached to the hip. He has to be touching me. And I don’t say that as a complaint, it’s just how it is. I appreciate both forms because they suit me. I am someone who is happy when my partner is. So trying to find a balance with the two was a challenge.

This song brings back those first few months of mixing the two lives. If you compared how they are now to then, night and day. We’ve done many trips together. We’ve shared a bed (in a non-sexual way for you nosey betches) and we’ve all gotten comfortable around each other hanging in our hot tub in the buff. Again, nothing sexual.

I have to recognize how much the bf gave in the beginning. This was not initially the situation he wanted. There were other boundaries in place that kept everything separate. I imagine to keep himself from being hurt by seeing me with the husband. He was making himself fit for me. Either he has grown accustomed to it and appreciates the relationship for what it is or he’s tricking himself. I hope it’s the latter. I constantly worry that I have somehow manipulated him into this relationship. I do not want that at all. My number one goal is ALWAYS consent. And when I have brought up these same concerns to him he has always affirmed that I have not. He is here of his own choice.

Unfortunately the bf is not with us on this trip. A month off is entirely too long for him. He will however be meeting us midway through, for the weekend, and at the end. And I’ll be happy to have my whole family together again.

August 22, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 27 – Heaven From Here

Good lawd, I am so far behind on this project. If I didn’t state it in the last one, life has gotten in the way. More specifically my own sadness and malaise keeps me from writing. Try as I might I cannot escape it. Regardless, I set out to complete a task and I shall stand triumphant in the end. I just have to double up my efforts to get back on track. Which, I know I can do.

In addition to my general lack of disinterest, I have had a hard time coming up with new and exciting tracks that bring about vivid memories. That could be due to my inability to listen to music. Lately all I prefer to have in the car has been silence. Just the thought of putting on something makes me anxious. What do I listen to? What will be brought up in the listening? When one has a habit of attaching memories and emotions to songs, it becomes a dangerous game of Musical Russian Roulette when starting a playlist.

On Saturday I was feeling calm enough to listen to something, other than my own thoughts. The song that drifted lazily out of my car speakers was Robbie Williams’ “Heaven From Here.”

I have been a huge fan of his since his first release in the U.S. “Millennium.” I went to my local target and picked up a copy of “The Ego Has Landed” and I have not stopped listening to it since. Robbie was my teen idol, my muse, my obsession so many times in my life. For a brief moment, one entire wall of my bedroom was COVERED in his posters.

Again, I have no idea how my parents did not know I was gay.

I will assure you, I am not attracted to Robbie. I love his song writing. His lyrics are just fun, and coupled with Guy Chambers music… ecstasy. Every album the two collaborated on are my absolute faves. Every track is a banger and I couldn’t pick a favorite if a gun was held to my head. The stuff since the two parted… It’s hit and miss. As I’ve gotten older, I have grown to appreciate the later stuff more than before. However, nothing can beat his early stuff.

I attempted to share this love with my husband throughout our time together but… He hates him. I have to accept that. And it is a consistent hate. Whenever I have had my phone iPod on shuffle, I will tense up the moment I hear the opening notes of a Robbie song. I sit taut, waiting for the moment my husband turns to me with disgust in his face and says, “This is terrible. Who is this?”

I cannot stress this enough, every time. Without fail. And he can’t see who the artist is on the stereo screen. So, he’s not doing a “bit.”

Regardless of my husband’s ultimate feelings about Robbie, the first song I ever gave him to listen to, because it held a “secret message” from me to him was this song. (And I hope you remember my initial post where I explain the implications this action brings.) At the time, he was indifferent about it and did not respond near the way I wanted him to. I was hoping for a: “who is this guy? he’s amazing!” or “this song is fantastic. I feel the same way.” None of that. But that’s my husband. He never reacts the way one expects. Ever. Even now, I know him better than anyone, and he still surprises me.

The one thing I remember, more than any other, was his: “I don’t like the line about our shelf life being short.”

In hindsight, I know he was speaking about our relationship “shelf-life” but with how everything has since played out… It stings. As a result, I go into a weird metaphysical headspace where I begin to believe that I somehow made his diagnosis happen by sending this song to him. Like I inadvertently cast a spell using music.

Even the title “Heaven From Here” contains a new double meaning. One that makes me very sad and I cannot bring myself to type. But I know, dear reader, that you understand what I reference.

I’ll shelter you, I’ll make it alright to cry
And you’ll help too cause the faith in myself has run dry.
We are love and I just wanna hold you near.
Know no fear we will see heaven from here.

All of this is gut wrenching for me. I think of everything I have done, thought, said, and believed over these 19 years and I feel nothing but anger toward myself. I am furious that I took so long to realize how wonderful my husband was and how I doubted what I wanted. I was so caught up in the bullshit of the whirlwind of previous relationships and it made me question possibility.

One thing I have learned is, let yourself feel these emotions. Don’t question what you want. Pick a path and go. If it doesn’t work out… It will be rough but you will survive. And you will come out stronger on the other side. Life is meant to be lived. The good and the bad. Because without the other, it would not give the significance the other deserves.