Sharing My Guy

I don't like sharing my guy. That's the reason why I've never been a fan of open relationships or even casual dating. I make sure that I have my guy locked down. Or so I used to. These past few months, I've been having a bit of a paradigm shift.

It started when I dated Kent, a guy who part-timed as a masseur. When we got to the point where we were already discussing the details of a possible relationship, I asked it to be open, more for the heck of it really than anything else. I've never tried an open relationship before and, given Kent's line of work, I was pretty sure he'd agree, and he did.

The relationship felt a bit strange to me. We were a couple and yet there he was, sleeping with other guys for money, and there I was, sleeping with other guys for fun. At the start, I felt a tiny bite of jealousy every time he told me that he was off to service a client, but I started to get used to it as the weeks passed.

So this is what it feels like to share your guy with others, I thought.

It wasn't that bad after all. That thing that I used to hear from other people about being confident that your guy will go home to you at the end of the day, I began to understand it. I was sure that Kent was still mine no matter how many “extra service” sessions he gave, and that was enough assurance for me. That was probably how Kent felt too, at least until I started showing signs of disinterest.

The sharing thing turned out to be more difficult when I experienced being the other guy. This happened when I started seeing Adam, who has a boyfriend of seven or eight years. I knew that there was no hope of me ever gaining enough worth to beat those years, but I jumped into the pseudo-relationship anyway.

My relationship with Adam was the opposite of what I had with Kent. This time, I knew that after every movie and dinner date, every night we spent cradled in each other's arms, every goodbye kiss after a great conversation over drinks, he would still go home to his partner.

In spite of my full understanding of our setup, however, there were still moments when I started to demand more. I remember walking out on him once, drunk and pissed off, when he said that he wouldn't leave his partner for me. As I scrambled into a taxi, he texted me that I was being unfair, that I knew perfectly well the limits of our relationship even before we decided to have it. Of course, I didn't have enough mental coherence to read it right then, but I realized that he was right the next morning. He was my guy, yes, but only for as long as he was at my side. Asking more that what he could offer was indeed unfair. Since then, I demanded only for my share, enjoyed it, and then stood by for my next turn.

It was during one of those standby-for-Adam periods that I met Brad. We met and went out for drinks, spent the next few hours downing bottle after bottle of beer, laughing and teasing, and stole a minute-long kiss before leaving. He was cute and he definitely knew how to work his charm. Apparently, my charm worked on him too because we continued going out after that.

There's one reason Brad and I aren't an official couple: we're both not ready yet. That's to say we're both still messing with other guys. There's one other guy he's dating concurrently with me. And I still can't let go of Adam completely. That's on top of each other's random hookups. We like each other a lot, but I know that jumping into a relationship right now would only screw us both. I know he does too.

I still find it strange. Just months ago, I probably couldn't even imagine myself sharing my guy, yet here I am now, even looking for someone to join us in a three-way. But I enjoy what Brad and I have right now: dates whenever our schedules allow, sweet messages in text or BBM, phone calls when one misses the other, and the occasional but nevertheless amazing sex. He could be having those with other guys too, but I don't mind. I should, but I don't. Maybe it's best to stop over-analyzing this and just go be happy with it.