Gallery Carre
The Odyssesy of Change
Oct 13th, 2024 by Holiday
“ I was feeling insecure
You might not love me anymore
I was shivering inside.
I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I make you cry
Oh no, I didn’t want to hurt you,
I’m just a jealous guy.”
- John Lennon (1971)
Once, in another life, my live-in girlfriend and I thrived on histrionics.
Our betrayals, disputes and quarrels were monumental. Nothing civilized or in half-measure. We brought out the worst in each other. We humiliated each other in public, and amidst family and friends.
This degradation just added fuel to the fires.
The passion of our emotions, both good and bad, was immensely intoxicating. We really did not love each other – we were truly addicted to this obsessive behavior.
Thankfully, we managed to exit each other’s life gracefully. Yet this process took years.
I finally reached bottom when my true love told me to leave our apartment on short notice. She tossed me out.
Previously, some slight – perceived or genuine, provoked an emotional hurricane. Yet blue skies appeared a day or two later, and some form of amnesia erased the regretful behavior – usually. We were back in love.
This time, however, my girlfriend tossed me out in favor of a male acquaintance she encountered a few months earlier on vacation.
My sense of humor failed me.
The hormones of a more youthful period did not work in my favor. I was livid, consumed with jealousy.
The weekend passed in an agony only marginally dulled by copious amounts of alcohol and marijuana. Perhaps only a lobotomy would have subdued my nature.
After my girlfriend left the apartment for work early Monday morning, following her debauchery, I entered the premises with my key.
The sight of her used, cum-stained panties on the floor by “our” bed unleashed the worst in me.
I plunged over the edge of madness and savaged the apartment with a baseball bat – breaking every mirror, smashing lamps.
On-screen temper tantrums of Jack Nicholson (Five Easy Pieces) and Al Pacino (And Justice For All) barely compared to my descent into an infantile hell.
This is how I thought a male should respond to unfaithful behavior.
My rehabilitation began shortly afterward, and the person who descended into jealous rage has not inhabited my psyche since that ugly period … so very long ago.
The most difficult truth I had to admit was that I found my girlfriend’s sexual shenanigans arousing. I wanted to see her ravaged by another male.
This is not how I thought a male should respond to the woman he loved.
For a long time, I thought I had some strange defect of character. Why did my loved one sexually submitting to another male arouse me?
In my case, it’s because I am bisexual … and I also love the idea of hotwives or wifesharing.
Gradually, traits of jealousy naturally disappeared – maturity finally visited me, and perhaps unruly hormones abated.
When I met the woman who has been my wife 20-plus years now, I encouraged her to disclose her sexual resume.
At first she thought I was a hundred-proof flake.
Yet I was serious … because I had embraced certain truths about myself. And, the twin-truths of bisexuality and hotwives were powerfully arousing.
And then, I encouraged her to give herself to another man – in front of me, with me.
The leopard changed his spots, and it’s wonderful to know the odyssey of change can be so liberating.