Monuments Man

First, I would like to thank everyone who read my blog in July and helped the number of views stop right on 69.  Yes, the sex-crazed teenager in my head chortled mightily as I saw that the month of July, 2016 will forever be immortalized as the month my blog 69’d with my readers.  Not that more consistent readers and views would be a bad occurrence, but the innuendo suits my personality.

Now on to the continuing evidence that the year 2016 is the vomit of the universe’s extremely long lifespan.  I could bring up the story of my mother-in-law rolling her new car, crushing it, but miraculously surviving mostly unscathed.  I could complain about the continuing monetary issues, or the now confirmed death of my vehicle necessitating a permanent solution to my transportation woes.  But no, that is small potatoes in the karma department.

I recently found out that two months ago Aurora (re-read my blogs in March and April) lost the child she was carrying.

I legitimately cried when I had some time alone after hearing that news.  People are often confused about how and why I can still feel so much for people who have chosen to not be a part of my life.  I have talked to other polyamorous people and find that even in that culture the rate of continuing to love someone after a relationship is about 50/50.  I am not a psychologist and could not even formulate a coherent theory for why I continue to hold past relationships in my metaphorical heart, but it seems right to me.  When I have told someone that I love them, that is a gift I cannot reclaim.

They can stomp on it, ignore it, take a big old shit on it, lock it in a safe, bury it in the desert, or sell it on Pawn Stars… but I will still love them.  Some women have chosen to take advantage of the fact and use me to feel better about themselves before leaving again.  Some women came back to find the love was still there and were happy that I had not forgotten them.  My feelings are not dependent on how any of them react.

It took a long time to just accept that loving unconditionally, in a way consistent with the exact definition of that word, is just part of who I am.

So Aurora was on my mind for most of the past week and a half.  A big part of me wanted to comfort her, help her… just do something for her.  But that’s not what she wants.  I managed to keep myself busy enough to avoid any late night mountain pass travels.  Yet with her on my mind, I came to a new self-realization:  I have a figurative memorial in place for many of my “lost” loves.  I was looking at Netflix, finding new releases to add to our DVD queue, and saw the movie “Hello, My Name is Doris.”  This is the movie I saw with Aurora the last time we were together.  It really is the only “date” we ever had.

And I have no interest in seeing the movie again.

It was a good movie:  surprising, funny, and darkly romantic.  I think my wife and girlfriend would enjoy it (Hi Deni and Cheri!).  I would suggest it as a good watch for most people.  And I have no interest in seeing the movie again.

This is not a negative emotional reaction.  I am not thinking of the movie and becoming all weepy over not being with Aurora anymore.  It is not some form of angst; it is actually the exact opposite.  I do not want to see the movie again because it is our movie.  It is the movie that belongs to Aurora and Darth Deviant, not just one of us.  And I am quite sure she does not even remember that moment and will probably watch it with her now-husband without batting an eye.  But to me, it is a monumental moment that defines what our brief relationship was and I plan to keep it that way.  It makes me smile to picture us sitting in the back row, her laying into my chest, and then purposefully taking my hand and placing it on her breast.

That moment is worth saving.  So I have no interest in seeing the movie again.

This made me realize I have similar monuments for other loves I have had the fortune of experiencing.  Some of the metaphorical monuments are happy ones; some are sad, or angry.  But they are important as historical reminders of whom I was, and a guidepost to whom I hope to be in the future.

Since Rene left my life, I have not walked a particular trail at a local park.  I have driven through that park, gone to the lake in that park, but have never gone close to that trail or the picnic bench where we sat and reconnected.

Since Anitra left my life, I have not read a single comic book.  There is a comic book in my storage drawer right now of Harley Quinn, my most favorite psychopath hottie.  Have… not… read it.  Took me a long time to replace her as a best friend too, but I did eventually do that.

Since Jan left my life, I have not watched a single Sylvester and Tweety cartoon.  I turn the channel if one randomly pops on the screen.

Since Dawn left my life, I have not eaten at a Denny’s.  I also avoid driving down the street that particular Denny’s was located on, now that I think about it.

Since Eileen left my life, I have not watched any of my DVDs of the television show, “Stargate: SG-1.”

Since my first break-up with Cheri, I have not written a letter to anyone.  Luckily, I still have many of the “pen pal” letters she wrote me.

Since my second break-up with Cheri, I have not eaten at a Wendy’s.  Restaurants ending in a “y’s” seem to be unlucky for me.

And yes, even though we are back together and happy (when I’m not writing blogs about filters which makes her very embarrassed and vengeful), I still haven’t done either of those things.  They are monuments to Cheri’s and my past, and I want them preserved.  Although I would probably go back to writing pen pal letters if someone wanted me to do so.

And since Aurora left my life, I have not watched “Hello, My Name is Doris,” nor have I Dominated a true submissive.  We will see which of those becomes the official monument as life moves forward.

Do you have any “monuments” you keep in memory of past relationships?  Feel free to share below in the comments.  Remember, this is a judgement-free zone.



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