It is a strange thing, to be in an open relationship and have the ability to have sex with people other than your partner. Strange because in the end, it is not really about the extra sex you have, even though you tell yourself that is why you are doing it. In the end, it seems to be about hearing the regrets of the people you have sex with. I can't think of one person I have had sex with who hasn't at some point, if not immediately, told me about all the ways they wish they had done some things, very big things, differently.
I admit, when a man tells me that this is the reason he is not ending an unhappy marriage, I hate him for choosing money over happiness. I hate him for blaming his spouse for his bad decisions, and most of all, I hate myself for listening.
It's like fucking someone who you know is using you for a masterbatory tool. These people use you as a sit-in, or, lie-in therapist, though everything you say to help them goes pretty much unnoticed or un-utilized. It's what they call "dumping" in therapeutic circles, because it is really just like someone dumping their shit on your doorstep and then moving on.
I hear about it from my fella too. All the women who in the end, just want to tell him about their problems. Even that annoys me. Especially when he tells me about them and I react in a way that is impatient. He is much more patient than I am with other people's problems. Mostly because he wants to fuck these people, and he sees it as a good trade-off. I see it as empty. I see it as enabling bad behavior. Of course, I get to have sex more often than he does, so he is in a position of having to listen to these women and their problems.
I am tired of dealing with other people's regrets, mostly because my main issue is releasing my own. I work hard on looking for the lesson in painful events in my life, I look for the way to take ownership. I look for the way to make a better choice next time. I don't always do these things, but I try, and when I listen to other people talking about the regrets they have been carrying for years, I am reminded of what I am still holding on to. I am reminded of my inability to release.
I have decided that is what 2018 is for. For me, it will be The Year of No Regrets. Meaning, I will take my time to make good choices, learn from the choices I have made, and, ultimately, release any regrets I have about my past. This is a huge goal, but I have been getting so many subtle hints and kicks to the groin that it is time for me to release this shit, I have no choice but to act.
I know. I said I wasn't going to write again this year, but I feel like I would have regretted that.