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Some years ago, I was a firm believer in exclusivity at all times. That is not to say I no longer believe in that, but I am less inflexible about it. What has changed? Perhaps I believe in romantic love-can-conquer-all stories a little less, and I'm more practical. I am also more in tune with myself sexually.
Most relationships I have been in, I didn't feel the need to look at or be with others. It's like I'm hard-wired that way. Makes it easy for me to just be monogamous. It's not hard for me to do. It doesn't scare me to think, oh my goodness I will only be with this particular person sexually, for a long time. I crave variety, in terms of how the sex is had, but when I am into someone, I am into them. I don't actually want another body. In fact, that is usually a turn off.
With age though, I find that I feel more open to being approached with that sort of conversation, where I might be willing to consider the occasional, let's have sex with other people a couple of times, for fun. If I'm into it, and the mood takes us, and there is a lot of trust, why not? I'm not sure I'd be the one to initiate this kind of thing though. Not yet anyway.
I feel that when I choose to be faithful and monogamous, it's an easy thing for me. I don't want to look elsewhere. But I am open to discussing and trying different things.
When I feel possessive, and I have those moments like anyone, I don't want to share my SO. Why? Because I love their body and mind to bits and I want their full attention on me, exclusively - and on no one else. Rawr!
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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.
Fernando Pessoa, 1918
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