A gentleman's guide to sex, life and loves.

Planned Obsolescence

In Personal on September 8, 2010 at 3:40 pm

I have an iPhone 4. I got it the day it came out and I love it. Before that I had an iPhone 3GS and before that I had the original iPhone. This is the way a great many things in our life work: you get the new shiny, use it until it loses functionality or luster, and exchange it for the new model. My name is Greyson, and I’m losing my shine.

Meredith is monogamous. When we became involved a year ago I knew that her ideal was to settle down with a man, have a few kids and live a contented life in the suburbs. What wasn’t so clear to me a year ago is that my idea of a happily ever after wasn’t limited to one person. I want a house with extra rooms so friends and lovers and stay for as long as they like. I want to surround myself with the people that I love. I want Sunday morning breakfasts that last until early afternoon and cover a grand dining room table.

You see the rub…

This wasn’t a surprise to either of us. Our relationship is wonderful and enriching for us both but we never presumed one another for the marrying type. We explored our bond to it’s natural limit and were happy with what we found. But that limit didn’t match either of our notions of happily ever after. Someday, we knew, I would find that wonderful poly girl and we’d move in together and begin building the house of our dreams. Someday, we knew, she would meet a guy who’s funny and smart and sexy and imagines a swingset in her back yard just as she does now. Someday is quickly approaching.

A couple weeks ago Meredith went on her first blind date. She’s had several with the same fellow since then and while neither of them are in any rush to push things I can see them becoming more of a serious item as time progresses. It’s sad in a way, but ultimately I could not be happier for her. For the last nine months I’ve been exploring what it means to be poly. She’s stood beside me and supported me while I’ve gone off and founded enriching relationships with several wonderful women. Now it’s my turn. I smile when she tells me that she brought him cupcakes at work. I delight in the fact that they’re playing hookey next week to go to the fair. But in doing so I become, in a way, superfluous.

But that’s good. That means that we’re growing as people. Even if we’re growing apart.

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