The end of our relationship began just over a year ago. A year before that, I lost most of a finger (left middle) when a car door slammed on my hand. The injury healed poorly, and the nerve damage resulted in constant pain for quite a long time. Despite the fact that there was no finger, it constantly felt like someone was forcing bamboo shoots under my fingernails, and hammering with every pulse.
I spent most of that year at least partially drunk and mostly high. Pain pills didn't seem to help, just left me really loopy, so I smoked pot instead. It didn't help the pain any more than the pills, but I didn't care about the pain so much while I was still capable of functioning. Not living, but at least making a living.
I was also drinking my way though the emotional aspect of losing a finger, since it would hamper my ability to play the guitar. Sure, I could still play, better than most, in fact. The painful part is that I'd never be as good as I could have been - and I'll never know what I would have been capable of.
Reyn didn't like the pot or the alcohol. The constant pain and the drugs were a wall between us, because I couldn't even sexually function unless my body was almost completely numb. That required a lot of alcohol, and I don't imagine it was very good for her self esteem when I had to get drunk in order to make love. It was so bad, that for a 2 or 3 month period, we were only making love once or twice a month.
Of course, this also left me pretty moody. I'm sure I wasn't a pleasant person to be around at all.
My roommate, Bo, was a bigger pothead than I was. He was my slacker best friend, and we'd been living together for almost 5 years before Reyn moved in with us 2 years ago. He and I survived everything - a burglary, flooding, even a fire. Our friendship had survived a ridiculous amount of drama, from his girlfriend seducing me to his mother even trying to go Mrs. Robinson on me.
Bo was involved in a polyamorous relationship with the wife of his best friend from high school. They would both come and visit us, staying for several days. All three of them slept in Bo's room. I never really understood what poly was about. I was mildly curious, but since I'm not bisexual I didn't think it would work very well for me at all. I'd always been uncomfortable with the idea of more than one woman at a time.
Then I read the works of Robert Heinlein. His books sparked a good portion of what was later known as the Sexual Revolution, and free love was the key to most of his writings. I had a good grasp of what poly would be like, at least intellectually, and I wondered what it would be like.
Reyn was also bisexual, and wondered what it would be like to be with a woman. I'd told her that I would let her try that, as long as she was honest and it wasn't actually an affair.
Reyn and I talked about it a few times, and she didn't seem to be interested at all. So I was really surprised when she came out and asked me if I would be willing to let her sleep with Bo.
Bo and Reyn didn't actually meet face-to-face until she'd already lived with us for a few weeks, because his work schedule kept him away from the house for weeks on end. There was an obvious attraction there when they did meet, and the only people they managed to hide it from was each other.
Reyn and I were planning to get married, trying to get pregnant, and about to celebrate our second anniversary. I had a lot of faith in our relationship, especially after she stuck with my and by me when I was injured. Also, I was curious about trying poly, while also aware that the suppressed attraction between Reyn and Bo would eventually cause problems in the house, so I agreed.
Big mistake, apparently.
Reyn seemed to lose all interest in me right away. Of course, within a week, a successful surgery took away the bulk of the pain in my hand, and I was able to lay off the drugs and alcohol and felt like a person again. I turned to Reyn to rejoice and enjoy life, only to find that she wasn't really interested anymore. She went through the motions, for the most part, but her heart wasn't in it. While she used to be very enthusiastic and passionate during our lovemaking, she just laid there while I ate her out, then after she came she just laid there while I finished. Not very rewarding for either of us, I think. She avoided me whenever possible, and wanted to spend all of her time with Bo.
Strangely enough, all this hurt worse than severing my finger did.
Over the course of six months, she drifted far enough away that she only shares my bed when Bo has company, and we haven't made love in over 3 months. Not that I hadn't tried, but she'd just brushed me off like an annoyance, and wouldn't even talk to me about what was going on.
I finally caught up with her and asked her what was happening. "Why don't you want anything to do with me anymore?" I asked her.
"It feels like you think I'm obligated to you. You expect me to. I don't like it. I don't want to feel obligated." she replied. It still doesn't make any sense to me.
I'd been looking for someone else, but in a year, I hadn't found anyone. Everyone who seemed promising either stood me up or put me in the "just friends" category. She and I had gone together to meet one girl who turned out to be a total flake.
Being lonely didn't do a whole lot for me, either. I was getting really depressed. She wouldn't even kiss me. My self esteem was at an all time low. I wasn't exactly huge, but I was slightly overweight. I was using Wii Fit nightly to try to improve my body and self image, but hadn't seen any results yet.
