The impression I’m getting is that maybe I do set my standards and expectations too high.
- I kind of expected monogamy and not to be forced into a situation where, without my consent, you are not monogamous.
- Is this too much? I used to think it wasn’t, but I guess I have to lower my expectations now. I was lying when I said I didn’t want you to ask me beforehand. I’m trying to live with this, really I am, but I’m used to having the limelight, your full sexual attention, your full affection. It feels like it has been stolen from me.
- Isn’t safe polyamory supposed to require the fully informed consent of all involved?
- I think we started out with different ideas about what our (sexual) relationship would be like. I know I did not think open relationship. I thought closed, but with the addition of one person to share between the both of us. I feel betrayed that you assume that I am okay with this situation as it is. I am simply trying to make the best of a situation that turned out very badly for me. I also feel betrayed that you went searching on your own for someone, like our relationship was lacking.
- I thought the agreement was someone for the both of us to share, that’s what it was originally. Then you go out and find someone just for you and expect me to be happy about it. I’m never going to be happy that you’re getting more than I am. The worse thing is that you don’t seem to care.
- What can I say to get this across to you? I honestly can’t think of any more words.
- I was taught, and it really stuck with me, not to assume things and not to make excuses. So much that it has been part of my core essence, the things I require to be happy.
- You seem to be asking me to compromise this, to accept your excuses and excuse your assumptions. I can’t do this in my heart of hearts, so I will always feel like I can trust you less because you ask me to compromise on those things I hold near and dear.
- Do not accuse me of being unreasonable when I voice my concerns and expect some kind of reasonable resolution.
- You said you like me more. Then why do you insist on treating most of what I say about this like I am hysterical and that I do not matter in all of this? I do not know how much more I can compromise before I’m ripped in a thousand different pieces sent flying in a thousand different directions.
I wish I could send you all this, tell you how I really and truly feel. But most likely I never will, because I am too much of a wussy and too self-deprecating.
And you would think I’m too needy.