The Samantha Script

While searching tonight for dirty photos of myself to put on my new pr0n Twitter … yes, that’s a thing … I’ve found myself getting a little lost in old emails / screenshots from exes of the past. Yes, I save this stuff. I know I probably shouldn’t; I know that my “memory” should serve me well enough, but it doesn’t. And, truth be told, I like having records of things. Even if the relationships ended – sometimes in flames – I like to know that I have those words, those images, those exchanges, saved somewhere.

Even if, yes, they make me sad when I look at them. Even if they put me in a sort of nostalgic, melancholy, floaty, and weird mood. Even if they make me momentarily full of regret and pangs of wanting to reach out to tell them how much I love(d) them and how I wish we didn’t lose touch and how much they meant to me, even if they or I or both of us acted dickishly.

Even IF they make me cry.

Tonight, while searching for those pictures as I mentioned, of course I stopped into an old folder on my external drive. It’s where I store all those photos of people from my past: photos they’ve sent me, photos they took of me, photos I took of them, photos of things we liked, and in later years, screenshots of some of my favourite texting moments. Because I’m a hopeless, idiotic, sentimental romantic, ok?

I found some pretty funny things, like the very first emails between myself and “The Professor” (the catalyst for our open marriage in the first place), and I found some heavy stuff. And then I found a letter that my first non-monogamous love K wrote … to my husband back in 2007. The letter totally freaked Steph out at the time; it started as an explanation of how we met, and then dove right into this guy’s personal history, which went on for a long time; I can understand why it was too much for Steph to handle, and I can also see why it was the best thing I’d ever read at the time.

Then, at the end of the letter, he gets into all the gushy stuff about me. I’ve read this letter countless times in my past (not for many years though, mind you), but I never noticed the thing that was so glaringly obvious to me now.

K basically wrote the Samantha script for all the exes that followed him. I don’t know how to say it without sounding narcissistic, but he’s not the first man to say these things about me. It’s obvious now to me while I fell for him. He hit all the romantic buttons that I never even realized I needed. Then everyone that followed him had those standards to live up to, and most of them did. I found a screenshot from another lover telling me that he’d never loved anyone like he loved me. I have memories of others saying that to my face. I’ve been told on countless occasions that “you’re the first person I’ve ever told that to.”

When I read the letter in its entirety, one other fact jumps right out at me. The Boy (last year) and K were unbelievably alike. I fell madly in love with both of them for basically the same reasons and the same words and the same sensations. They both sent me music and song lyrics and THINGS WITH WORDS. (My heart loves that the most, you know.) They were both ridiculously unique, but both hit those same buttons unlike anyone else except, well, each other. My heart was doomed from the start with the two of them, 6 years apart.

Here’s some things that feel ridiculously self-absorbed and silly to say, but are so true that I can’t not say them: it’s hard to be a safe space for someone. It’s hard to be the girl that’s “unlike every girl” that’s come before for them. It’s hard to be the first person that someone first shares their life-long secrets with. It’s hard to intoxicate someone. It’s hard to be the reason someone can’t think clearly during their work day, gets nothing done, and then spends no time with you later because of all the time they wasted with you in the first place.

Not at the time, of course. At the time, nothing feels better. Replace hard with intoxicating and it’s obvious why those particular relationship connections are addicting to me; why they hit my romantic core harder than anything else; why I find it hard to focus myself on anything and anyone else, besides that person and my husband.

But, as I’ve learned, any relationship where I am such a catalyst in a lover’s life doesn’t end well for me. I get put on a pedestal, while personally insisting that I don’t belong up there. (“I’m just a girl” they’ve all heard me say.) Then when they realize that they like me too much – it’s happened now on four occasions – and just when I’m getting used to and accepting my pedestal position, it’s kicked out from under me, broken in pieces, and my heart is squashed under the debris. A boy said to me recently that he wasn’t surprised that this happens to me, being non-monogamous, that it makes sense that people liked me too much to be able to stay (I know, I know, I sound incredibly full of myself, but guys, I have the old messages, remember?), but knowing that it makes sense doesn’t make it any easier. I’d rather have someone dislike me; it’s much easier to know that I can’t change their minds than that they could easily be convinced to give in to their desires and be with me again, even if our relationship is toxic for their current life situation.

All that being said though … reading this old email to Steph from K has obviously brought up feelings in me. I have to accept the fact that, since I’ve been this person to many people now, that it’s probably who I am or at least who I can be to some. But I also have to accept that not every new lover is going to feel this way about me, and that’s ok too. Not everyone is going to care about putting me on a pedestal, so I certainly should never ever expect it.

Anyway. Here’s a snippet of the message K sent to Steph that caused me to over think this evening. I wish I could go back in time to 2007 and have handled this relationship better. He was a good guy, and he said the right things, and I was too wrapped up in the romance of it all, and too naive and inexperienced, to recognize when I was falling off the cliff with no parachute on my back.

…hey that cute chick smiled back at me, westend_girl huh.  I’m moving to the west.  I’ll email her…blah, blah, blah… you intrigue me…

…wow she responded!?  What the shit.  Ok now’s when I scare her off, I’ll write the biggest, most over-personal email ever (until now).  I’ll make a list of music I like and have at least one artist for each letter of the alphabet.  That’ll freak her right out…

I started to have great communications with Sam, we MSN’d a couple times, and quickly decided to meet.  Frankly I was glad to meet.  I was really exhausted of investing so much effort in online shit and then getting online-dumped.  I have always been into reality.  Realism.  Real.  I love people in person.  I’m horrible on the phone.  I was extremely nervous to me her, however.  It would be my first date in forever.  And the first girl I’d meet from online chat.

We met, I was awkward and timid.  She brought a list of questions, thank god.  And we had fun.  We got along well, and began to talk about more interesting things.  We learned a little about each other.  It was decided, we liked each other.

We had a crazy week and saw each other quite a bit.  It was fast and hard and spontaneous.  It was intense, and open, and wonderful.

When I’m with Samantha I’m with an incredible friend who I can tell anything.  I’m with someone who is sincerely interested in me.  She makes me feel more comfortable than anyone I’ve ever known.  I’ve opened up to her in a way I’ve never done before to anyone.  I’ve told her secrets that I’ve never verbalized or even written about.  She is an incredible person, and you are an incredible person for trusting her to be with me.  The truth is Sam makes me feel like I’m intoxicated; with love, inspiration, joy, lust, confidence, sexiness, knowledge, experience, yearning.  I mean actual physical intoxication.  I’m only now beginning to get a little sober.  There were a couple of days when I was literally drunk on emotion, and sensuality.  I could feel my body like never before, when I walked down the street, I sensed everything.  My heart would beat hard, I would breath heavy.

I can feel the world around me like never before.

I’m going to be confidently vulnerable, and tell you that I am in love with your wife.

And I can’t wait to meet you.