Relationship with a capital R

“I like you a lot,” she said, gazing into my eyes. We’d been fucking for hours, warm cheeks and soft touches as we smiled at each other, buzzed in the afterglow. (God does she make me glow.)

“I like you a lot too,” I reply. She hasn’t looked away. “Does that freak you out?” I’m careful with my questions, I want to go deeper but I don’t want to push.

She nods quietly, “Yeah, a little bit.”

“Me too,” I whisper, kissing her forehead.

We both have ex’s we’re healing from, people we loved and trusted who turned on us and smashed our lives to pieces. We’re both having trouble trusting our instincts. It’s scary.

She flinched first, “What part freaks you out?” I took my time before answering.

On top of us both being hesitant there’s another critical difference. She’s monogamous. I’ve only ever dated poly or non-monogamous folks. And she’d never even considered dating a poly girl, before she fell for one. We speak different languages. She doesn’t know the rules. She’s asks me if I can be her girlfriend, I ask her what “girlfriend” means to her, she’s never considered that question.

When you’re poly you have to be thoughtful about things like that, what are the boundaries, what are the expectations, what am I committing to? “We get to decide what works for us, that’s the best part,” I explain. “What do you want from a girlfriend?”

“You know,” she says smirking. “Get married, buy a house...”

I blink. Stunned. Two impossible things.

“I’m kidding!” She reassures me, tugging me into her arms and kissing the top of my head. I’m relieved she was being sarcastic but I know digs like that ring true.

“Not really though, you want those things one day.” And I know she does. And she should. I want those things for her. A happy wife, a happy house, some dogs and someone to fuss over her when she gets home from shift work.

I explain that whenever my poly friends start dating a monogamous person I’m the first one to scoff “Why would you do that to yourself?” Now I’m eating my words. She asks earnestly why it’s a bad idea. I run through the reasons in my head; jealousy, lack of skills to manage the Big Poly Feels, that thing where the monogamous person resents the poly person for being poly, that thing where you cry and wish things werent so hard, that thing where the poly person is just a placeholder until then monogamous person finds someone else monogamous... someone who can get married, buy a house.

I try not to let my head interfere with my heart. Has she ever gotten married or bought a house with a girlfriend before? No. So then there’s no rush, really. Slow down, bunny heart. A million things could sink us before those realities appear. The world could end. Why waste time fretting about what-ifs. Fuck it.

“We don’t have to figure all of this out right now, I just wanna keep being good for you.” I kiss the apples of her cheeks, so inviting on her sharply-angled face. She squeezes me tight, “Am I allowed to call you Mine?” It’s such a comforting question. “Yes please,” I answer, climbing on top of her again. She stares into my eyes as she grips my hips with her hands, possessive and adoring all at once, the intensity makes my heart flutter. I can’t look away, I can feel myself blushing, “You’re killing me,” I breathe. She pulls me closer and says, so sure, “No. I’m bringing you back to life.”

We both think it’s crazy but we’re doing it anyway, eyes wide open and holding hands. Foolish, and hopeful and grinning like idiots.