Bad chemicals.

Looking back on my dating history, I can see that I have a history of becoming involved with already involved men. Some part of my inner monologue insists that it's better than being completely alone- reminds me of how good it feels to touch another human being and all that. And on some level it's right.    But what worked out somewhat well (if you don't factor in the hospital visit) for younger me is likely not what present me needs. I'd rather have sex without romance than no sex at all. This is still something that is true. And the present situation I'm in is one that should not be hurtful or surprising to me. When it first started happening, he told me he had just gotten out of a long relationship and wasn't looking for anything serious. Now he's back in that relationship, and I understand that something you put that much of yourself into is hard to separate yourself from- it's nothing to give up on. If he has a chance to be happy with his girlfriend, I want him to be happy because I care about him as a person. But in his mind, our situation has not changed. His relationship is an open one, and the biggest difference I noticed between the last time I went up there and this past weekend was the degree of carefulness with which he cleaned up after our romping. Because he doesn't see anything as having changed, it's sort of difficult for me to remove myself from the situation. Hard for me to say that something is wrong without announcing that I am developing feelings, which would likely end the association by itself. Something I've noted as a rather pointed difference between polyamorous men and men in open relationships is how they can have all the sex they want, but emotional attachment is a no-no.

I don't want an emotionally unattached relationship anymore. I want someone to want me. And I really mean me, not my tits.

One day I will find that. I have to believe it.