Empty.

This morning I have woken up and I still feel angry. 

I don't like feeling angry, I never really do and I especially don't like this feeling when he has just gone away for a week.

Something snapped in me last night, something that felt it has the possibility to elevate me right up off this mucky floor and into a nicer place. 

He says that he feels like a fly in a jar and that I suffocate him, that is quite hard to hear because there is some truth in that. My behaviour and reactions to some things lately has been something I'm not proud of, things that I know I need to work on, and get better at.

Yet I am angry because going back to the bed metaphor, I believe I would be feeling a little differently had I been asked if I minded moving over to create more room. Instead I feel I've just been shoved over.

Tomorrow Dossie Easton is running a poly workshop on jealousy and I am thinking I might go along, keep trying to find hooks that can help me to stay propped up in this long enough to see a new horizon. Yet what snapped last night was regardless of whether I am doing this or he is doing that, and however much I try and learn and grow and get better at all of this I am just not sure anymore that this is what I want. Maybe J coming into this has been a blessing because the stark reality holding my focus this morning is that I just don't think I want to be one of 4 women.

I am in London, he is down by the sea in the South West with his wife, and all of those things that would normally connect us, the sending each other love, the thought of a cuddle at bedtimes, my rules and discipline, my little rituals, they are all sat like empty jars on a shelf, hollow, it all feels quite meaningless right now.