The alarm went off.

I got up.
I made coffee.
I took a shower.
I started drinking my coffee.
I towel dried my hair.
I pet the cat.
I ran a brush through my hair.
I finished drinking my coffee.
I went into the bedroom.
I took off my robe.
I put on my clothes.
I pulled on my socks.

Then I paused.

I felt something was missing.

I looked on my shelf – looked for my owl.
That is what popped into my head.

The other part of my brain went “which owl – owl? what owl?”
I thought about one a friend gave me.
I thought about one the kids gave me.

Then it hit me.

My touchstone is what I’m missing.

MY owl.

The silver owl he gave me.

The one I wore for months – never leaving my neck.

The one that, when in times of frustration, I felt compelled to hold because it felt right – it seemed to hold the energy I needed when I needed it most.

The owl that was not on my shelf nor has been on my neck for months.

I know that I cannot adequately describe the loss that I felt in that moment. Not because I didn’t have my owl, but because the energy and meaning behind it seemed gone – seemed lost. When I realized what I was thinking of and why, I had tears in my eyes.  I had a lump in my throat – I felt like I had blindsided myself.

I looked at all of the other necklaces I owned, then rejected them all.  None felt right – none was what I subconsciously was needing.

I went to work with a bare neck. It was all I could handle given this unexpected reaction this morning.

After work, I went to a munch as I planned.

A guy who recently came back to the area after a long absence was talking to me when he said, “so you and your husband can’t really consider yourselves poly.  You’re just fucking people.”

Thinking about my morning, my last several years, the one I have loved…..well, I took offense.  In the end, I told this new guy with such a narrow definition of poly that I didn’t care about what he thought.  “I don’t call myself poly because I can fuck whoever I want.  I call myself poly because if I was hit by a bus tomorrow, I have had someone who would be right there with G and stay there too.  Someone who isn’t just in it for the sex – but in it for me – and me for him…….for good or bad……that isn’t open – that to me is poly, so I don’t care about your idea of what is or is not.”

Then I got up and walked away.

Fuck people.

Fuck narrow-minded people on a day that has been good but hard for unexpected reasons.

Fuck them on a day I clearly miss him.

Fuck that shit.

What do you think?

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