We meet people in all phases of their lives. Sometimes we meet people at their best, sometimes we meet people at their worst. Everyone else is somewhere in the middle. We can deal when people are mostly towards the "better" part of the scale. But when people are more towards the "worse" part? As much as my nature longs to help them, sometimes I can't. No matter how desperately I try.
I fix people. I help them. It's what I do. Or at least what I keep trying to do. (I think the Dessa song Seamstress was written for me.) Oh, I know, I know — no one can "fix" someone. It's probably foolish to try. But I'm good at being a friend. I'm good at loving people. I want to love their problems away. Or at least be there for them through it all, steadfast and loyal, because I have this awful ability to see the best in people — to see through all their layers to the core goodness within, even if it's buried under oceans of junk. Even if they don't believe it themselves.
Whenever we meet someone, we leave a fingerprint. We change everyone in some way. And we change ourselves, taking away some new lesson. Some new knowledge.
I've learned a lot of things through my bisexuality. My ex-girlfriend, "T," taught me many of them. She was my first everything with a woman. My first date, my first kiss. My first girlfriend and my first female lover. The first woman I loved, and our first triad. She was beautiful and smart, independent and talented. She could fix anything mechanical or technological, and both her mind and body were sexy. She was also strong and weak, kind and cruel. She was guarded and vulnerable, mysterious and transparent. Blunt and evasive.
The three of us were great together when it worked. At one point it felt so easy and so right. We'd all clicked right away. In one of the rare e-mails we got from her, she summed it up perfectly: "F-ing right." In those early, magical days I learned the best parts of polyamory. How beautiful and loving it can be. I learned the best parts about being with a woman and that it is an important part of me that I had denied for 26 years. A part that I never again want to lock away.