I’m slightly embarrassed that the last several posts are all me it’s a very intimate look into my days and it makes me self conscious. But between the lack of anything interesting in these posts and the fact that I need to learn to share, I’m letting it be. Today was much better. I woke up early and shared coffee and puttered around a while. Finally I managed enough productive juice to prime some panels and then I spent the better part of the day worrying about what to do with booth. I never came up with a solution but I looked at it a while. Never came up with a framing solution either. It lets me know that I’m not actually as unproductive as I think. I just engage in a lot of creative procrastinating. Or at least that’s how I feel today. If there’s anything I’m sure of it’s that I’m not often sure of anything. I took Caity to PT and we managed not to fight. I started work on a self portrait I can use for merch and hopefully I’ll manage to get some things nailed down. Maybe tomorrow I’ll work on logo or business cards. I know Caity said she would work on it but I tend not to trust the quality of what I’ll get back. After dinner I decided to take some time to chill out and decompress. I may be slightly late to sleep, but it was nice to spend some me time.

I've decided to take the week and wake up early. The original plan was to schedule everything and attempt to make and stick to very conscientious decisions. I haven't taken the time to sit down and plan anything though. Yesterday Caity and I got headed home from my parents late and when we got home I decided bed would be a better place than trying to find some closure from another argument. We've taken to fighting a lot and I want to assume it's just the budget. But i worry that it's something more. I don't think I'll know until later so it's nice for now that it seams like something Caity is working on. The other thing I decided I would do is make a point to write every night as a way to wind down from my day. It will also let me look at my mental state as I attempt to change my sleep schedule for a minute. Today was awful. I'd hoped to get something big on my Urban Arts fest to-do list checked off. I'd really hoped for either booth walls or frames. Instead I spent the day arguing with Caity over how it should be done and not really getting anywhere. It took until 5 or so for me to give up working and she spent some time taking pictures of my old works while I stewed. We finally aired some dirty laundry and decided to take some distraction time before she headed to bed. The last couple hours have been alright but I'm still exhausted and no closer to having a plan. I guess I'm off to try and get some sleep but I don't feel ready for any of it.

I always love staying up way too late. That point in the morning when everything else is quiet and your brain is slowly losing the fight against reality in favor of some sort of half delusioned optimism. Everything seems more meaningful. More like things felt when I was a kid. Somebody once said that to live a purposeful life it helps to have a defined narrative of what your life has already been. I wish I could say I have a narrative but mostly I just think it was a shit show. And I don't see that changing any time soon. Money has been pretty tight lately and Its really been dragging me down. Aside from that I feel like there isn't any room for me to breath. To be me. I'm not sure who that is anymore. I spent a lot of my life trying to be some sort of "good." But the more I tried to be good the more I realized I was doing it for some sort of reward and I wasn't getting anything in return. Losing that part of me that strived to be vaguely wholesome is equally as exhausting. Maybe the truth is I just want to be noticed. Maybe I'm just rambling

I'm not sure I will ever really come to terms with adulthood. I'm not sure if that's really even a thing. I'm sure there are plenty of people out there with their lives far better figured out than mine. I'm not sure that's even a stretch of the imagination. I woke up this morning from another dream about Val. I keep thinking someday those will end. I don't dream about my other exes. I know she has a boyfriend and two dogs and so VERY much moved on and doesn't even seem like the same person. I don't know if I'd want to be with her if it WERE an option. But every now and again my subconscience thinks it's a good idea to dangle that stupid carrot... I used to think about writing to her. Not necessarily actually sending them (I'm rarely brave enough to think that direction and it'd probably just be cruel). No, just addressing thoughts to her. I wonder if it would help me move on. Someone told me they saw one of my exes on tinder the other day. I wondered about that for a while. What it would feel like to rekindle any relationship. Someone also finally let slip that he slept with my first kiss late last year. I spent some time wandering down that possibility as well. Just in case anyone doesn't want to try and catch up with what I'm alluding to, I'm in a vaguely poly marriage. I say vaguely because outside of Val and one nameless almost encounter nothing has happened to solidify any sort of legitimate label. Both my wife and I acknowledge that our relationship has places where a little outside assistance might significantly improve the marriage. But I'm not exactly sure how to "date" while married. I also don't want to tarnish carreer possibilities for her or waste time with girls who already have to brave meeting a stranger just to find he can't offer what is societally acceptable. So it's more an in theory thing as opposed to practice. Lets go with it the opportunity has to sorta present itself. I've never been overly proactive... Also while the theory is sound my wife isn't exactly the best at empathy, which means I don't imagine she's ever considered what it must feel like to enter into a relationship with two people or with history or any of the vast complexity that you'd have to deal with dating somebody who isn't just bringing themselves. I think I spend an awful lot of time trying not to make any dirty laundry, and instead of making my life easier it just means I'm running around looking like Dobby the house elf.

Imagine yourself naked. Naked in a glass box suspended 15 feet in the air in an auditorium full of people. The light glaring off your naked skin. The audience completly full. Imagine the laughs of the audience, seeing every weakness, every crinkle in your polished exterior with exceptional clarity; with stark, cruel vividness. No, really, take a moment. Reread the last paragraph and really put yourself there. Drink every word slowly and imagine every moment drawn out like an eternity. Imagine yourself completely vulnerable. Every inch of your imperfection visible; every mask removed. Imagine every skeleton in your closet was placed openly before the world. Imagine every terrible act you've ever committed was read aloud on that stage of vulnerability to an audience of the ever judgemental and callous. Imagine, and look into the eyes of those who judge you. And then think of the once person you could put in that auditorium who would make it all not matter.

Just to be clear my doctor put me on a new antidepressant last week. I'd tried out another before it for a minute -and to be fair it worked great- but the side effects were a little too much for me. Because of all this though, my emotional stability is a wreck. I've never sympathized so much with crazy people.

I know I've already written today. I don't want the last entry to be so exposed. It feels like the monster, the other side of who I am. I am ashamed and proud of the monster. As I am with all of myself. I had a though about what our love is like... It's like facing two mirrors against each other. And then attempting to fix the image in the middle.

A therapist told me to write down what I'm thinking. I'm thinking I'm incredibly numb. The truth is I'm absolutely paralized by fear. I can't seam to do anything at all. And all I want to do is fling myself from somewhere everyone can see me. Have everyone either catch me, or be forced to recon with the idea that their inaction lead to my pain. I want to be caugh, to be rescued. But the truth is that the only person to rescue me will be myself. And I just can't seam to. I spend most days wishing I could just lift the giant imperceptible blanket of worry that has me so very stuck and DO ANYTHING. I usually succceed for about an hour of the twelve I spend trying. But I never do any of the things that are supposed to make my life better in my own head. The story I write for myself is that even if I do them their wont be any one who recieves me. No one will buy my art. No one will watch a video with me in it. It's not that no one cares. Its that I feel so very invisible. Like no one can see me. So why bother trying to mime? Why jump and rant and make a fuss? Why work, when it wont make a difference anyway?

I finished the Secret Life of Walter Mitty. I tryed to stop thinking. I found some other inspiration to get up off my ass and do something. And I feel the pull to fly. But I can't seam to find the wings I used to soar. Like Icarus didn't die. He just fell to earth and only had a love of the air. Crippled by some imperseptible homesicknesses that he didn't know how to cure. I wish I knew what flying was for me. I wish I could just find home. Writing feels good. But it also feels incomplete. Its a sort of different kind of numb. I wish I could spend all day in a different kind of numb until someone thought my numb was beautiful and hung me out where all the world could see. I wish I could connect with everyone. I could stop and say I feel everything you feel. I'm so in pain, and so in love, and loss, and beauty. I wish I could just find a way to sit and say that. But I think the only time I ever hear that is when I'm stairing at a blank canvas. (that would be my modern art). Its not the the canvas has anything to say. Its that the canvas is listening. And perhaps thats the most beautiful thing in the world.

I made my coffee this morning with a packet of hot chocolate mix. I'm trying to cultivate little moments of happiness. I've been experiencing a HUGE amount of anxiety and some fairly crushing depression as of the past couple of weeks. So the little moments of joy really matter. Last night I finally finished the secret life of walter mitty. I had a hard time getting through the first half but when I finally finished it I was rather struck by it. So much so I made myself an early A.M. to do list. More on that to follow. I also took a midnight stroll down into the little section of town I live near. Mind you everything was closed. But it was a good stroll. If everything hadn't been closed I would have probebly walked into the little tattoo parlour nearby and gotten whatever a hundred bucks could get me. It was one of Those kind of nights. I'll let my to do list elaborate: FUCK YOU! Yeah, you. You're the overthinker. Stop thinking so god damn hard and just make shit happen! Start your day by rewatching walter mitty. If you're not feeling it. DRINK TIL YOU DO! buy a fucking pinky ring plan a vacation call up that god damned interior designer you don't know yet and take a fucking risk. Tell someone how much you are worth. Make an artists profile on houzz Just buy the fucking website Look for a job. Yeah, my to do lists are a little explicit... But I'm drinking a quasi~moca and now I'm going to rewatch the secret life of walter mitty.

I feel like there is so much to say but all I can do is stare at the little flashing cursor. I'm about one threatening glance from a breakdown and I can't help but feel very very broken. I wish I could say exactly what is causing all the fear but all I know is that I've wound myself up so tight that everything ticks the wrong way. It's a whole lot of not functioning. I've spent today doing nothing. And somehow I feel worse than if I'd moved molehills. Moving Mountains is a miracle, but moving molehills... Thats just hard work. I'm not very good at taking care of myself. I'd love to say that was a miscalulatedly pessimistic view. But if there is a miscalculation, its the other direction. I sometimes dream of what it would be like to live a mediocre life and just follow the parental outline of "get a job, pop out babies, grow old, tell your babies to pop out babies..." The truth is I don't think it's ethical to perpetuate a life built to simply "keep on keepin' on." So here I sit, freaking out about every sensory input; wound just a little bit too tight to sit right. It's been an especially anxious week for me and I don't really have a reason why. I'm not so much experiencing the crippling depression, just the neurotic anxiousness and endless what if... I spent monday moving wood to build a table. I hauled 40 or so two by fours up to the loft and my body is feeling it. Which is good because I haven't had much excercise. I've tried to cut back on a lot of the unhealthy food I've been eating although I self medicated with several handfuls of swedish fish about half an hour ago which may be a bit of a set back. I'm a little worried (my word of choice for the day) that I might have irreparably damaged some process in my body. Too much sugar/alcohol/processed food. Not enough REAL food. I think I've been living off yogurt, microwave pot pies, mountain dew, and mac and cheese for about a month. On sunday I nearly had a fainting spell. That in combination with my growing gut, a sensitive stomache, and some wierd back itch has lead me to think I might have a real problem. That or I'm just too anxious for my own good. There really isn't much to share. Which makes this the most boring entry I've written in forever. No threesomes, no death, no marriage woes (I'm woeful, but things seem stable enough). I sold a painting two weeks ago. It really sold itself. But It was some cash at any rate. I had said I was going to save it and get back some of my legendary savings, but I bought a smart thermostat instead. I had been looking forever and I am still mostly glad I bought it. Savings would be nice, but now I can turn up the heat from the comfort of my bed... It's nice to get the dulldrom down on paper. It lets me start to sort out where I am. I spent most of last month ignoring my parents and sister. They called very frequently and by the end of the month it was usually at least twice a day. I eventually answered a call from my mom. She called from her work and I answered thinking it was an art call... Cheater! It was nice to feel a sense of isolation from them. Like I could pick who I wanted to be a little more. But it wasn't easy and I could feel the fear of some sort of familial wrath build up in me. I realized in that moment that every person I let into my life takes a little chunk of me. I wonder what it would be like to be whole. It'd be nice to commit to myself and not have to feel anxiety about the roles I play for other people. I think I need to plan more for myself.

I picked up your broken little body this morning. And last night. And your commerades before that. You all were placed rather ceremoniously into old grocery bags and then marched to the garbage. Its as much a funeral as any. You're all desperately trying to get into this shitty little basement while I try and find a feasible way out. This must be how a celebrity feels... Not realizing that they have it made Just clinging to there sanity while every other god damned living thing scratches at their belongings. All while trying not to get eaten by the cat.

I'm sitting here, and I can't help but wish my life were the beginnings of some manifesto. I feel so strongly that the world is lost, and I don't think anybody disputes that. But we are so far beyond change. Society is like one great big jack-ass, and anybody that tries to pull it towards anything unifyingly beautiful is just making the problems worse. I've been watching "Sam Crow" alone while I avoid life, and I can't help but feel more alive when I do. I'm sure some writer somewhere would feel ultimately flattered by that concept. I wish I had the words to change the world. I wish that life was really all about family and bortherhood and those irrevocable ideals of justice based on personal good. But I know those are the words of war. Maybe thats what we need. It's hard to think about but maybe the only time we humans are fulfilled is when we are fighting for our life. And there isn't much about the average life thats worth fighting for. I mean it, tell me you'd shank a bitch over your netflix habits. Maybe the entire idea of a unified society is only possible if we numb out everything that makes feeling human something valuable. And maybe the entire concept of value is a protagonist for violence, the idea that not everyone can have it is why its worth anything at all. There's always a lot of maybe, but if any of that resonates with people than the idea of socialism is shit. And any other society is just about who's willing to take the biggest risks. In personal news I've been feeling supremely down lately. I finished summerfest and have painted very little since. If it weren't for other peoples financial support I wouldn't have even broke even. As is I'm still not so sure if I did. I'm not sure if it's such a stretch from being a starving artist. Summerfest was more or less what kept me going. It kept me grounded when all the other shit in my life was up in the air. Now that it's over I don't have much ground at all. I still can't say I trust Caity, and I know thats not her fault. I know she's trying hard. Our relationship has stabilized and now is back to just us two. It's nice, but it feels hollow. I don't think either of us feels any urgency to be in the others life and it's a constant struggle to act like newlyweds when we clearly are not. Reinforcing the bounds of an old relationship after it was so radically stretched is not easy work, especially without the chemical motivation that newlyweds have. I noticed yesterday that neither of us has made any commitments that last longer than the end of the year. It rubs me the wrong way because I don't know where I'll be living in a month and a half. I worry that Caity secretly is sticking to the deal we talked about in January. At the end of our lease the gig's up. I suppose I don't blame her, I'm not exactly a functional human being these days; today I woke up after 13 hours in bed and didn't even have a reason to get up. At the end of everything I've said, I suppose it comes to this: I wish I could live every breath in a single identity. I wish I could just be one person, one version of myself, and serve my own disire constantly. And I wish that person could still be good for those around me, and be attractive, and beautiful, and moving. But alas, Identity is always mutlifaceted.

I know the answer to a great many questions. Questions that only lead to more questions. You still love a woman. Still want a woman. You don't think that means the end of our marriage. But let me explain it to you. You can't wrap me in your arms with the sensuality I crave. Your love won't comfort me when I am lost, as men get lost sometimes (and need to be found between the legs of another). Making love to you is mechanical, and I am not. You say you want to be my wife, to be the best wife for me. You want to be monogomous. But even while you say this you clench tightly to a relationship with the very woman who tears us apart. Your love still outweighs your hatred of Valerie Fuller. And you lie to me, and probably yourself. But you cling to her gifts as you once did mine. And you quietly (and behind my back) make arrangements to see her. To be near her. To fill that ACHE. The ache of desire is a cup never filled. And now to the truth that matters: To be married is for us to serve each other. In this moment you ache for another, and you are still having an affair. Still trying to fill your needs outside of your commitments. Still trying to get as close to what you want as you can. I know where that leads. And if you were to sacrifice those needs and commit only to your marriage, would you truly, could you truly be happy? Would I? I think we both know the answers to these questions. And as much as you don't want to face the truth of it, our marriage ending is mostly your own fault. Your own biological inability to love a man as he deserves to be loved (if there is such a thing as deserving love). I don't know how to start over. With or without you. And I don't like that I get to add you to the long list of people who have failed to love me. Perhaps it's just another incarnation of the phrase "we accept the love we think we deserve." I don't know who I am enough to know how this plays out. I know that I have no obligation to be kind while you are cruel. I know that for now I am more interested in being fair. This is likely to be a test of forebearance for us both. And I don't know where it goes...

Its been a nice weekend. Caity and I have started counseling and I feel a little hope that everything will work out the way team Craity dreams. We haven't told Valerie any of our dreams and it makes things really difficult. I always feel like I'm living a lie and it can be hard to differentiate which is truth. Valerie comes over maybe three times every two weeks and spends the night. I never get sleep on those nights and I feel it's murder on my body. I also threw out my back in some way and have been acting something far different from my age. I can feel that Caity is trying to make me happy, and it makes me feel like I'm part of a marriage. I still am not ready to return the favor, for which I feel a little guilty; I just feel so dryed up. But I'm happier in my marriage than I've been in a while and I feel like we can work out the kinks. There are a lot of kinks still. Caity is in Nashville right now working on training for a new position at work. I'm proud of her. I'm also scared shitless that I am not the kind of hubby that deserves fidelity. That she is going to enjoy herself like a single girl. Her being away also complicates things at home. We have continued the relationship with Val though it doesn't seem to be helping anything. And now Val wants all my time and attention and I have no desire to give her any(it always feels like wasted time). Today I went to game with friends and she apparently was invited. She was a smart choice for inviting, but she insisted I give her a ride which meant at the end of the night she was hoping for sex. I really don't want to be in a relationship where I have sex when my wife is away. It just isn't who I want to be in my relationship with Caity. I won most of gaming which always makes me feel really good and then decided to call it a night at 9:30. Val asked if I could take her home and I (feeling relieved that she wanted to go to her house) took her. But I realised the moment she lingered in the car she had no interest in going home alone. I told her I had no interest in fucking while Caity was away and she acted like that was the last thing she wanted. I told her I don't want to be alone with her in a private setting while Caity is away and she responded with something to the effect of "how bout we just agree we aren't going to have sex." Two hours later she finally left the car, alone. The story of the two hours is that it felt like she was trying to use every trick in the book to get me to come upstairs with her. And I want to make the decision to end the relationship with Caity. I want to present a unified front. But in those tow hours I had to work so hard to find the ground where my relationship to and with Val was something I was willing to put in enough work to keep. I really wanted to just leave her in that car and start walking home. I wanted to spend the night washing my bedding and cleaning house. Instead I spent that time trying to show a woman I find most a kin to a cancerous snake that I care about her and want her in my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm enough of a sex addict that there is a part of me that wants her, but that part is so non-descriminatory that the position could be filled by just shy of half the population. And I'd much rather work towards having that role filled healthily by Caity and no one else. So now I'll be up very late waiting for bedding to be clean, and seething quietly that my life feels so out of control. I'm aware that I've chosen every event that happened today, But I just want to stop committing to anything that isn't going to be part of my future.

Right now Caity is asleep in bed while I try and work up the motivation and inspiration to paint. I know I need to just start painting something, but it's always my least favorite part of painting. And it always scares me motivation-less. I'm so used to feeling betrayed by Caity not being a serious adult (staying home from work, buying shit she doesn't need...) that it's weird to be capable of being supportive of her needs. Right now that is her need for a little personal time to figure shit out, and I'm strangely happy for her to take it. But I have so much restless energy in my own life that I find myself trying to pin to her. I just want her to be moving at full sprint because I want to feel safe. I haven't felt and real stability in a while and it makes me want to act. But I understand the need to really process and make decisions that are truly congruent with authenticity. And I really want to be able to find stability together. So I am working hard to just be a cheerleader in Caity's life. Which is scary, and kind of nice. Right now she is thinking of dropping work all-together to just focus on school. To potentially take out student loans to cover living expenses for the both of us and just throw herself into school. It sounds wonderful in theory, and I think she could do phenominally. But I worry. I worry most about her follow through, she has a tendency to change venue every time things are uncomfortable, and loans aren't really the kind of thing I want to add to that kind of personality. Especially because school has an unfomfortable period every semester. It's hard because I feel obligated to go find a good paying job so I can support her through school. Thats not who we are as a couple though. If she makes it all the way through school with internships and extracurriculars and everything she is capable of it will be totally worth the loans. It will be totally worth everything. But I don't know if any of what she is doing is authentic to her, or just trying to please the rest of us. I find myself more and more aware of how shameful my existence has become. I don't add to other peoples lives and I don't have value in a community. I want to change the world, but I'm not really even a part of it any more. And it all seams to come down to my aversion for money. I detest the idea of debt, and I detest the idea of trading my time for money. If robots ever make it to the mainstream workforce there will be a lot of unemployed fools. I believe I have more value, that I'm better than the "fools" but I dont even add as much value to the community as they do. I'm not involved in a cause. I'm not working towards anything. And it makes me wish I weren't such a hollow fool. With that thought, I need to try and paint. I owe it to Caity. I owe it to myself.

I've run the gammet on what to expect and how I've felt this month. Every day seams to be a little different or a lot. At any rate, it's never the same and that can be a real challenge. For a while, in a all my emotional turmoil I ended the relationship with Val and fought to find a way to keep Caity. It always ended in some form of limbo and it's all very difficult to maintain my feeling of connection. Over the past week or so I have worked hard to reincorperate Val into my marriage with Caity. Monday Val paired off individually with both Caity and I. I don't feel like it added much value to my marriage and I find that troubling. I was exceptionally uncomfortable with Val and Caity and I walked in on both of them topless on the couch, Vals hair desheveled. I had a major freak out that night. I said and did things that I am very not proud of. I shoved Caity around and screamed a little. I had every right to freak out, but I wish I could have handled it better. I let Caity know that the best way to calm me down is to fuck me, and I feel really good about that. Yesterday Caity came home from work, took me out to dinner to spend some time with me and reconnect. It was lovely to feel that she was taking time for me. I felt important/wanted and I worked hard to be present with her. I had spent the day finding some form of purpose from life and I wanted to use what I learned to connect with her. We went home after running some errands and stripped naked on the couch. We kissed, I carressed every inch of her, and we made love as best we know how. It was marvelous to reconnect, though I felt very inconfident as she had said she wasn't sexually attracted to me a little over a week earlier. I tried my best not to bring up all the insecurities built off the previous weeks and it felt wonderful to be with my wife and be sexual and vulnerable. Her body makes Val's look like the Juan Maria Ojeda jesus repaint. I am truly married to a goddess and having her be with someone who has sexual confidence has already changed her into so much more confident and beautiful a woman. After we lay on the couch feeling close and connected. I felt truly taken care of for the first time in a very long time (and if we are going off feeling not fact), maybe even since we were dating. We talked, and for the first time since shit hit the fan we both wanted a future together. Caity talked about seeing Val not as a permenent thing and while I don't think either of us want to push Val away, it was nice to see that we both don't think she wants to stay forever. We talked about our future in New York, and then moving somewhere by the ocean (the south of france) and Caity having twins. I'll admit that I want kids right now. I don't want to pop out babies right now, I just currently want to have children before I die. It was so nice to feel like caity could be there for me, could make me feel safe, could make me feel better. I feel bad that it all comes down to sex, but I truly feel connected. I truly feel like I have a wife I can love forever. Even if she fucks other people. And that is what I actually want to work through. I feel, for the first time since I can remember, like we are working towards a wonderfully fulfilled future together. I read a sub-reddit today about a man who's wife had sex with a woman without him present and it made him feel very uncomfortable. http://www.reddit.com/r/sex/comments/1v1lk3/my_wife_had_a_girlgirl_experience_last_night_that/ It was nice to have a community of individuals offer advice and tell him it was okay to be uncomfortable. That there are communities to help him deal and he can choose what he wants. That he was justified in being uncomfortable and that the feelings everyone was feeling had the potential to be very dangerous to their marriage. And there was so much polyamory support and so much openness. I know that's only what I took from it, but it felt nice to have some kind of compatriot. To have a post that was all about hope and not just feelings and the psychology of how it is likely going to end. I still have fears that Caity isn't sexually attracted to me. It's all consuming sometimes. But I have so much hope. I hope for a forever with Caity where we both can feel fulfilled and live the virtuous aristotalian life that vivifies the pinacle of human living. I hope for a sexual compatibilty and fulfillment with the only woman I ever hope to be married to. I hope for an amazing carreer where my artistic voice is heard loudly and my wife is supportive and radiant and part of all my gallery exhibitions somehow. I hope for peace, joy, happiness and love, and for an adventurous, bohemian life that is truly satisfying. And I hope for france and for twin girls that I can raise to eat with a fork and knife, and swear sillily in french, and love whoever they love.

Why is the worst question. When answered, it gives intent. When answered it can be a road map for how a person thinks and what future actions will be and what past actions meant. In the grand scheme of things why should be utterly meaningless. It doesn't matter why hitler was anti-sematic. Or why Rosa Park refused to give up her seat. The why wasn't determinent of the outcome. So I suppose it shouldn't matter why Caity should need a relationship with Valerie in addition to mine. But it does. I suppose I feel somehow betrayed. In this moment my marriage doesn't just involve two people. And that was never how my marriage was written. I was supposed to be yours and you were supposed to be mine. Niether of us succeeded I suppose, but what about now. Am I not enough for you? I've always felt like too much for you. I always felt like you were mere moments from spontaneously combusting. Now I'm starting to see that is your manipulation of me. It's your play to get people to do things for you. You pretended you couldn't handle anything so you didn't have to. I suppose I play that card sometimes. That card is probably why I never want you to be a mother though. To some degree I probably married you to replace her. Its disgusting. But I'd never want children to be raised by a person who constantly pretended to be on the precipice of defeat. That pretense means constant anxiety. I'd love to say that I'm okay with a polyamorous triad. But I'm not. I refuse to give myself fully to someone who isn't reciprocating. Thats probably why we are here in the first place. I would like to let you explore your sexuality, but you committed to me. And exploration is a clear breach of that commitment. I'd like to demand that you only have eyes for me, but you and I both know (even if we can't say it to each others face) that you can't do that. You pretend you can't do anything even though I know better. I'm not ready to leave, but I can't help but think its time. I can't help but start writing up a mental list of our assetts and the appraised value to be split, beginning to pack my things and search for a life after you. I never planned on there being any life after you. It was supposed to be "always." It feels like the end of the universe. For now that's all in my head, no actual packing. But I don't see us coming out the other side of this. Our actions say that we both aren't happy here. Our actions don't say we are committed to what we have without changing. I suppose I'm writing this to hurt you. To shock you into somehow chasing after me. To trick you into promising me the world. But by now I've come to realize you won't ever deliver the world. So I don't know what I want. I want all of you, but that won't make me happy, just make our marriage whole. I suppose I should look back at when we were dating and see what we liked back then, except all we ever did was make out and rub each other. So maybe it should be no suprise that we are where we are. You were my reprieve from my world of pressures and stigma, a literal instant gratification of everything. I'm not sure what I was, but judging from your other S.O.s I was attention. A substitute for daddy's affection. And I made it easy for you to find committed admiration. I was hoping in looking back to find a recipe for fixing things, instead I found a map of why they are broken. I don't want to leave. I don't want to stay. It seams no matter what I choose it looks like a lot of pain. I'd be open to working on a real relationship. Going on adventures together. Finding shared interests. Making goals for our future and spending way too much time being cute together. That all sounds like Val could work, but I feel like we are Valerie's hobby, not the other way around. I share every thought with you. And somehow I feel like we share nothing meaningful. I'm open to having a fulfilled and meaningful relationship with you. I want to cook you pasta, and take you snowshoeing (perhaps metaphorically). And I want you to rub my back after a long day and invest time and energy into sharing a home and a life. I want you to pretend convincingly to like showshoeing. I just don't see how the current direction of our life serves that. I guess I just can't see our future. I don't see you liking me enough to pretend convincingly to like snowshoeing. And as a metaphore, that is the meaning of love. I still don't want to leave. I'm still afraid to stay. For now, I'm going to find a way to be passionately involved in the progression of my life. I'm going to leap forward and upward. I'm going to commit to serving and loving you, Caity, and pray desperately that I feel loved enough to continue loving. I'm going to let you explore and learn and grow, and know that my loving you and letting you explore, is absolutely and unequivically killing me. But I feel like you deserve it. And if we were keeping score, it's probably perfectly fair. I'm going to put on my best smile mask, I'm going to do your stupid dishes, and I'm going to try to thrive here. Because you are still the only place I want to be.

Yesterday was a sad hungover kind of day. Without any kind of consideration for the days around it, it was a good day. I slept until well past noon. I spent the day with friends. But when yesterday bothers to consider its place in the universe, as with all existential wandering, it feels a lot less good. Caity decided it was time to be complete with Val and get honest. It was a long sit on our rediculously comfy couches. And while I felt no remorse for feelings lost or gained, I felt like it was the end of something. I have been trying to be less manipulative. For the most part that just means I try not to take control of things. It makes me feel very vulnerable. Vulnerable is usually good. But I felt like I had no place yesterday. I felt completely and utterly unnecessary. After Caity and Val talked for a while, and then Val stopped talking, I felt it was time to occupy myself. I ended up at another house, where things were completly relaxed. It felt safe, and simple. Good friends, good movies, and good salsa can make life seam a lot easier. I came home too late to talk to Caity alone. She had gone to bed. So this morning I only got bits and pieces of what she and Val talked about. I caught that Val had confessed having feelings for her. And my jealous possesive nature is very angry about that. That alone makes me feel somehow like I need to cut a bitch. Like I need to take action to protect my happiness. But I'm trying to not be manipulative, or neurotic. And loving someone means not being possessive. So as much as I want to shank someone, I think its probably wiser to let things play out for a minute. And maybe I end up alone at the end of all this. For the record, I'm not angry that Val has feelings. Feelings are good, and a little bit beautiful. I'm angry because I can't trust that those feelings are real. I can't trust that it's not just a ploy to be liked. I feel like its some kind of manipulative play to get what Val wants. And that makes me feel most threatened. I want to be loved and wanted, and I want to put work in to that. But I've been working so hard for that for six years by being manipulating, and always feeling empty. And when I'm not being all manipulating, I play the marter. I'm trying not to repeat those mistakes anymore. But I'm not sure what option C looks like. I have shank a bitch as option one, and leave it all to Caity and then blame her for whatever unhappiness ensues as option two. It's an excellent way to illustrate my manipulative nature. I suppose I'll come back to what option C looks like. I also feel like Caity might be done with me. Its not an overwhelming feeling. It is one I have felt almost the full six years we've been married. It's in the little things. She doesn't ever seem to follow through on her promises. And maybe thats just a fluke, but it shows me in little ways what she is actually thinking about. She promises to clean up after herself and then watches netflix all night instead. There is a trail of junk that follows her around the entire house. She isn't vulnerable with me. She never iniciates intimacy. How does that mean she's done? It doesn't. But it does show that she is trying to escape her current life. And she is probably afraid of me. I should probably stop reading into things. I should probably grow a pair, take care of my own life (which I've never done even passibly), and let other people decide the shape of their own lives. I dreamed last night that I went on a study abroad with my friend Charles. It was a totally spur of the moment thing and I knew I was forgetting things. But I bought my plane ticket and ran to catch up with the group, and flew away knowing most of it I could just buy later (even though I forgot a bunch of cash in my parents armoire). I've always asked myself if I were not married what would I be doing. Right now, I would be flying to Europe. I would be working on my art. I would be living in a small modern house near the ocean. Instead, I'm cleaning up Caity's dishes. I'm both happy and sad about this. It's nice to feel wanted. It's nice to feel like all of that time I didn't spend on my own life has a point. But good fuck my life is a mess. I feel like I am constantly working to get what I want and still keep Caity and I together. Right now I want to tear at the cracks of my relationship with her. I want to run away and no longer be vulnerable. And then I want Caity to pull some kind of miracle and fix it all. I don't know what the best option is, but I can tell it is me not running anywhere. If things are going to work the way I want them to, I must be an active participant. It doesn't matter if that means continuing the exhausting work of living where I am. For now, that will be option C. From moment to moment, live as the person you want to be. Don't run. Don't shank a bitch. Just ask for what you want.

This is the second time in a week I'm posting. And it might be a healthy regular thing. Things have calmed down a little. I still feel very overwhelmed, but writing helped me to realize that playing the marter wasn't helping anyone. I talked to my wife, and after she and her friend had an exceptionally inapropriate couch match (use your imagination, it's not the point here anyway) I had a sit down and came to an arrangement with the wifey. I had a threesome tonight. It wasn't particularly magical, though everyone else said it was. I suspect it was just the new experience. All in all I was just glad to be included. It's all a little tenuous. I feel as if I trust no one completely. I feel like I'm dancing on a spider web and one wrong move and I could be very, very trapped. But it's relieving to be honest with someone. Now I can go back to using sitdiary to sort things out, rather than cry for help. Caity and I decided to put each other first, but whatever comes second is fair game. I'm not worrying about labels. But at least I feel I can hold caity to an arrangement of some kind. We never really had vows in our marriage, and when you no longer place any faith in the religion that binds you to another person, it can be hard to determine where to draw a line. Now I feel like I can hold caity to being mine. Not in a "I own you" kind of way. Freedom of choice is far too important to me for that. But in a "you love me, and this hurts me" kind of way. It's like I finally have some sort of control over how she treats me, and that makes me far more comfortable with giving her freedom. Truthfully the way she treats me hasn't changed much yet. I'm not sure I fully understand love, but she's always wanted me to spell out EXACTLY how she is supposed to be a good wife. I always felt that love wasn't about doing what you were told, but about being a version of yourself who's goal was to better the other person. And being told what to do to love is about like masterbation; it meets your needs, but there's never any surprise. In love you give of yourself. and in real love you give of yourself with the hope that they hear and feel what you are trying to say. I hope very much that someday she understands that. That is the criteria by which I judge love, and if she can't figure that out someday I will run out of love. Back in the real world things are very intrigue-filled. I will try to be objective, but my hunches have been very accurate as of late. And my hunch with Valerie is that I can't trust her. Objectively, I know only a little. She is cheating on her boyfriend, lying constantly about where she was to him. Making excuses to not be with him and bad mouthing him behind his back. She has told caity that she would have a relationship with her and keep it from me. She has told me she would have a relationship with me and keep it from caity. She does not socially yawn. When I confronted her (in jest) about a secret she didn't know I knew, she was an excellent liar. She cheats in games and winning is a big deal. All that being said I'm not quite sure what it means. I worry that she will teach caity to keep secrets. To lie and manipulate. And team Craity already has one too many liars who manipulate people. I worry that a person like that has no regard for others, and that she will in some very crucial way destroy the life I live. I don't know what that destruction looks like, and it haunts me a little. I'm drawing up a battle plan, and trying to decide if I really should be going to battle. On the one hand, Valerie has so much to offer in the realms of sexual exploration. And she is a talented lover. On the other, everything is a competition and I don't think she is afraid of murder for victory. I guess at this point I should be analizing what victory means to her. And that will decide whether or not she is truly a threat to Caity or I. Right now it is clear that she wants sex, and most obviously with Caity. And right now it looks like Caity is standing up for folding me into that relationship rather than letting me go. I suppose I owe her some serious gratitude for that. And I suppose that shows she does love me, even if I'm a paranoid and manipulative fool. I guess right now all I can do is analize behavior, and look for motive. I suppose that's enough for tonight.