A New Beginning?

My three-way sexual relationship with Kayla and my brother Ryan has come to an end, which I expected would happen someday but not quite in the manner that has come to pass. I figured that eventually Ryan would find a woman he could have a "normal" relationship with, someone he could openly go out with in public and take home to mom and present as his girlfriend. Someone who wasn't his sister. And he has. It's Kayla.

I can't say that I'm entirely surprised by this. I've known for a long time, from long before the three of us starting having sex together, that they were attracted to each other. That's one of the things that made the sex so satisfying to me, that the two people I loved and lusted for the most lusted for each other too. It was the type and depth of their feelings for each other that I hadn't counted on.

The hardest part for me to deal with is losing Kayla. Although I expected to lose Ryan to another woman eventually, I didn't expect to lose Kayla, though there were warning signs. Although I have never hesitated to introduce Kayla to people as my girlfriend and let them draw all the conclusions from that that their imaginations would allow, I never had the impression that she was entirely comfortable with the idea of being half of a lesbian couple. That she loved me and loved the sex with me I've never doubted, but I think she always thought of herself as a straight woman in love with and having an affair with a bisexual woman. Despite our relationship and despite her having had sex with other women, I don't think she has ever thought of herself as anything other than hetero. So I was always her friend Lisa. I was the woman she slept with, the woman she had her bi fling with until the right guy came along. (I'm trying to write this without any bitterness, but I get the feeling that some might be seeping out.) So I think she thinks Ryan is the right guy. And she may be right. I really hope she is. They are a beautiful couple, they've always enjoyed each other's company (which I think contributed to the tensions that brought about the end of Ryan's marriage), and they are still the two people I love the most in the world and I would like to see them both happy. It would be simplest and least painful for them at this point if they actually are right for each other. It will be awkward and probably quite painful for me to see them together for awhile, but that, I am hopeful, will soon pass.

This all started to come out into the open about four weeks ago and Kayla moved out about three weeks ago. I believe she's living with Ryan in Sacramento, though I'm not sure. When your only contact with somebody is through cell phones and email they could be anywhere without you being sure where. So for the last three weeks I've been here alone trying to come to terms with what's happened. I don't drink or do drugs, so neither of those was an option for dealing with this. Until this weekend even thinking about writing about this was just too wrenching. I have two friends, Karyn and Steve, either of whom in the past I probably would have been able to talk to about this, but this time that's not an option. Steve's been Karyn's boyfriend since last fall. Before that he was my one serious male friend, a guy I could go to dinner or a movie with and not have to fuck at the end of the night, though we often did. In a sense, he was my insurance policy, the one person who, if things fell apart between me and Kayla, I figured I could get together with, who would be my next boyfriend. With him and Karyn together as a couple now, though, and that option off the table, talking to either of them about me and Kayla now would just make it all seem more hopeless and painful.

So I've spent the last three weeks coping by fucking. Every time I started to feel myself getting depressed or feel sorry for myself I'd go out and find somebody to fuck. Usually somebody I already know, somebody from my large network of fuck buddies, but often I'd head to a bar or nightclub or park and pick the first likely stranger I'd find sitting on a bar stool or dancing next to me or jogging past and take him home and fuck him. It wasn't satisfying in the usual way I find fucking satisfying, but it certainly filled a need in me and distracted me from my empty home and bed and the tremendous pain and sense of loss in my heart. I'd fuck until I needed to sleep, then go to sleep until I'd wake up the next day and find a way to get through that day, which would usually involve fucking somebody else.

Anyway, I think it's working. It's helped me get through the first few painful and lonely weeks and now it doesn't hurt so much and I don't feel so empty and I'm ready to move on. I can start dealing with people as people again and go back to fucking for fun, rather than as a kind of therapy.

I didn't write you this so you could feel sorry for me. I just wanted you to know what's going on and why I've been out of touch. It's been a cold dark period, but the worst I think is behind me and I'm ready to be me again.