I wish I could make friends like a normal person. Or even like I used to be able to do when I was young. I don’t. I can’t. I don’t know how any more. I do have a few close friends. But I can count them on one hand with fingers left over.
I was just reading this touching writing on Fetlife about a poly man and his death. How his daughter (who knew about his poly lifestyle) has been contacting all his loves. And how they are all coming in one way or another to be with him one more time. Sharing their memories and love of him. I don’t think that any of my past lovers would bother. Not that we dislike each other or that things ended badly. I just don’t think our connection was strong enough to warrant that.
I think that there are a few who might care to say a last goodbye. Maybe. Depending on when my hour comes. But I have to say that I really think I’d be lucky to have even one person who had a strong enough connection to want to share a last memory.
The Husband and I are on the edge of a precipice. And I don’t know if he will be one of the people who would like to share his love with me as I lay dying. It’s sad and frightening. It makes me wonder if I’m simply not the marrying type. I am the loving type. Given the right person, I love. I love hard and stubbornly and insistently. But marriage… Perhaps I’m just not cut out for it.