I moved in with my partner less than a week after my last blog post, the one called Crying Over A Fictional Kiss that I wrote for the Carnival of Aros and posted on the last day of September 2019.
A week or so before we moved in together, Asher (my partner) met another person they had begun to date. Asher and I are polyamorous and Asher and this new partner were beginning to really hit it off.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to finish a blog post since then, but I really wanted to update all of my followers on a few things briefly even if I haven’t written a full blog post yet on any of these specific topics, some of which do really deserve their own posts. This draft for just quick updates was something I started and thought I’d post in February, before the COVID-19 pandemic really reached my part of the USA, before that was even on my radar as a topic that would consume everything. This post has nearly nothing to do with COVID-19.
Starting the very first weekend we were in our new apartment, Asher’s new partner slept over in the queen? king? (I can’t remember) bed in the master bedroom, while I’d sleep in the second bedroom in a twin bed on days said new partner was over. During the weekdays, I’d sleep in the queen bed with Asher. Asher’s partner usually stayed Sunday overnight and only left Monday during the day.
Here’s a rudimentary illustration:
In early December, possibly end of November, I started a blog post that I haven’t touched since the morning of December 10th entitled Hopes and Dreams for Life with My Partner, Snags in the Plans and Changing Course?? My Uncertain Future. The post already is a thousand words long.
I decided around then that I needed to write a separate blog post, first, to better provide context for some of that post. I entitled a post Still Sex-Averse, But… and then wrote 445 words but again I haven’t touched that draft since the evening of December 12th. (The post is not about being less sex-averse, but more about having engaged in certain behaviors…)
Notably, a week before that on December 5th, I went to the dermatologist and found out what a doctor at an Urgent Care establishment had failed to diagnose 2 weeks prior—that I was being bitten by bed bugs. (I’d gone to the Urgent Care clinic explicitly because of the bites, but they didn’t even attempt to pinpoint what the issue was, said the bites “could be anything”, and only attempted to treat the symptom of itchiness.)
The extremely itchy bites I’d been struggling with since moving to a new apartment with Asher (and, notably, I’d moved in with Asher’s cat as well), bites which I had been Googling and trying to figure out for months? I had convinced myself they were caused by fleas, by around the time I went to Urgent Care. But no. They were bed bugs. It seems I was only getting bitten in the second bedroom, on days I was sleeping in that room. I should’ve figured that clue to it out sooner. It was just that my bites looked different than I expected bed bug bites to look, what I expected due to all my research!
When we moved into the apartment in October, Asher had filled our new two-bedroom apartment with so much stuff, and I just did not expect our entire joint “living and dining room” area to essentially be a storage unit. I didn’t know how to handle that unpacking and organizing would just not happen for months, to feel stuck in a situation of being overwhelmed by physical items to the point of rooms being unusable. Asher and I had discussed prior to the move purchasing a couch once we moved in—we didn’t discuss there not being room to put a new couch anywhere. Asher’s new partner unpacked some stuff for us the first couple of weeks, but it didn’t really make a significant dent in the room full of stuff. We couldn’t afford to keep ordering takeout for nearly all meals at home, and instead needed to start cooking meals at home occasionally, but had no kitchen counter space. Since Asher’s partner had unpacked enough to fill the cabinets with dishes and various other kitchen items, there was no space left in the cabinets to even move things off of the counters into the cabinets.
Once we officially knew we had bed bugs, we immediately informed our apartment complex in the manner required by the lease, which in turn meant we as tenants were required to be prepared for the first bed bug treatment (one of three pesticide treatments) where the exterminator required the place not be cluttered and no boxes stacked and everything able to be treated.
From our own research we knew we needed to purchase a “bed bug oven” and heat-treat a lot of our own personal items, plus dry every single piece of clothing and linens we owned on high heat in the dryer. We needed kill potential bugs/eggs with rubbing alcohol where we couldn’t get heat. It would be a whole ordeal for anyone, and indeed it was for us.
The man who had come by to inspect our apartment for bed bugs in the second bedroom, which he found fairly easily—well, when he came by, he had seen our apartment, and he knew given the level of clutter that we couldn’t get ready in only one week for the first treatment, so he told the leasing office to grant us an extension and give us two weeks to prepare until treatment. He didn’t come by for the inspection until Wednesday December 11th, four weekdays/six days after I reported to the apartment complex what a dermatologist had concluded. The first treatment where we would have to be entirely prepared with our mattresses up against the walls and no linens on them and everything was first thing in the morning, the day after Christmas—December 26th.
I swear I’m trying to be succinct with updates here in this post. However, I clearly find it so tempting to explain so many details.
I decided to break up with Asher one week before Christmas. I decided to move out and move back in with my dad. Well, not “back” exactly—the same week I moved out, my dad had moved out too, and bought a house down the street from the one he and I had lived in for roughly a decade. I moved into my dad’s new house.
I’m trying to explain what happened in my life, but I’m not sure what this post has become. I don’t really want to discuss the emotional nuance and all the reasons for the breakup here, as this post is already too long. But I’ll continue and we’ll see where the post takes me.
I had already, since the start of December, been sleeping at my dad’s on weekends in order to avoid the bed bugs in the 2nd bedroom. If Asher’s new partner had stopped coming over, I wouldn’t have needed to do that, but Asher’s partner lived during the weekdays in a toxic home environment and it seemed unfair to prevent xem from coming over, so I would travel to my dad’s house, 25 min from my new apartment.
This all is continued in Part 2. I just figured the post was getting too long, so I found a place to break it up.