Letting Go

What is the hardest thing you have ever had to give up?

I called her Silver Girl. And she destroyed my life.

Enter Scene: spring 2003. My freshman year of college was wrapping up and I had signed a lease for my first apartment with three other nerdy lads. Roommate 1: CS — provided the `Japanese culture is best` stereotype. Roommate 2: FG — the gentle giant. He loved cartoons and Dance-Dance-Revolution. Roommate 3: KC — the scary guy who lived on our basement; he had pet lizards and would bring home small animals to dismember. KC once told me that he killed a vampire and asked if I wanted to see the body; I’m not sure whether he was joking, but I refused to find out. And then there was me — the music geek with no particular talents, and all the social skills that comes with a lifetime of solitude.

I began working retail at a big-box office supply chain. I wanted to help buy the technology that would change improve their lives. My employer only cared about pushing useless “extended protection” plans that were rarely honored or needed.

This was a difficult period in my life. I suffered from severe depression, anxiety, and self-abusive behavior. I will not go into details about my mental health for this article, but feel that these details are important to understand what comes next.

It was not uncommon for lunch breaks to overlap with co-workers, and on one otherwise unusual Tuesday, I shared 45 minutes with V. V was 21 years old (I was 19), five feet three inches tall. She had shoulder-length blond hair and chestnut brown eyes. Of course, I was deathly afraid of her. Our break television was playing an old Simpsons re-run, and in the most unexpected turn-of-events: V offered to share a bag of white-chocolate covered pretzels. This broke me.

Over time, we became friends. I think that I was the one who fell in love first. The problem was her fiance–B. B was a good man, they shared an apartment with another couple (one of whom was actually my boss!), two rowdy pit-bulls, and one old cranky cat. As our relationship grew stronger, B saw me as less of a threat while V began to rely on me more-and-more. Eventually V fell in love with me too.

Thus began my first delve into the world of non-monogomy. I was of course familiar with Polyamory, and perhaps even a little intrigued at the thought. But we were young. It was a struggle just trying to figure out who we were, and it wasn’t the right time to try navigating the complex webs of multiple-partnerships.

I was the one who let go first.

I pushed her away. It was a Tuesday.

I broke her.

This broke me.

Our relationship lasted less than two years, but It took me almost ten more to recover from our relationship and to become mentally-stable enough to find myself. While I have purposely left out many details, I have tried to stay faithful and honest to the important bits.

Today: I am still Polyamorous, and I am happily married to an amazing and supportive woman–who I am grateful to have in my life.


Mental health is important. Depression can be deadly. If you or someone you know needs help–Get help. If you cannot get professional help, talk to me.

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