The end?
But end, it did.
If anything our last night just made all the more confused.
I felt utterly torn. I wanted all three of us to be together but that was just crazy. Me and Rose were already on frosty terms with each other. Skirting around each other and both trying to pretend we were fine when in honesty I don’t think either of us were.
Really the four of us should have gotten together somewhere. Sat down with a big bottle of wine and talked it all through, sorted it out.
Instead, my depression worsened. My paranoia increased. I emailed Matt and told him I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t handle the constant texts if it wasn’t going anywhere.
I shut myself away from everything including DH. Rose continued to pursue him. He told me he wasn’t interested but refused to be blunt with her.
He couldn’t exactly tell her he didn’t really fancy her could he? I felt angry with him for what felt to me like a lie.
In my paranoid mind if he had slept with her but not fancied her then he had treated her badly. If he did fancy her then he should be honest with me and just go on fucking her and stop lying to me.
He couldn’t win.
He tried to smooth things over with them during another visit. I just felt like the three of them were ganging up on me. I began to feel like the mad woman in the attic from Jane Ayre. Hidden away. Not taken seriously.
The truth was though I had started to lose my mind.
A few weeks past.
Matt was still texting, even though I’d asked him to back off.
Everything was getting to be too much.
I wanted to have nothing more to do with Matt. It hurt too much. But he was DH’s boss. He had to phone most days. It was his job.
If we tried to switch off our mobiles in the evening Rose would get shirty with DH as to why he was ignoring her.
Me and DH began to argue more and more.
I felt trapped.
I couldn’t go on anymore and after one all-mighty row I just had to get away.
I left to stay at with my parents for a few days.
I needed space from the three of them.
I couldn’t get that at home.
I arrived at my folks house the next day and was still crying.
My mum wanted to know what was wrong. I knew she was thinking the worst. Had DH hit me? There was no way I would allow her to think that, DH is not that kind of person at all.
I had to try and find a way of telling her the truth.
And that’s how my mother found out that her daughter was a polyamorist.
