A Scandalous Wedding

You teased me the day before the wedding, referring to a close friend of mine as my boyfriend. We were in an open relationship, but it wasn’t until that talk that I realized you found it acceptable for me to actually date others. I shared the idea with him in a half-joke, but we soon agreed that, sure, that sounded like an apt descriptor for what we were. I was happy, having these two loves in my life and not having it be a problem. It was a bit awkward to realize the timing meant I would have two anniversaries back to back, but whatever, I was happy.

He attended the wedding, and I know now the whole situation was rather awkward for him. He would later confide in another friend that he felt pressured into the label, and that other friend eventually let that slip to me. I’ll never get that; why would you let yourself be pressured into something as big and meaningful as a relationship?

But I guess that also describes my wedding, so can I really blame him?

He sat at the same table as another friend I’ve always had a slight thing for, a person I’ve messed around with a few times in the past. At the same table was the guy you cheated on me with and his boyfriend. We joked about that being the furry table, but that wasn’t even half of it.

It’s weird how normal that all seemed to us.

I wish this sat better with me than it did. But it hurt – to love another person and feel compelled to hide them away from my family. Perhaps I could have been braver, open with them – but there was always doubt. You were so certain of this polyamory thing, and if I wanted this to be a happy marriage, I had to learn to accept it.

I really had to accept it. You made it quite clear there was no turning back. I always had to be the one to make sacrifices.

But as long as I had both of you, it seemed acceptable.

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