About the only thing that consistently sucks about our throuple dynamic is the distance. It’s not huge – an hour and a quarter down the A3 if the traffic behaves on the M25 and around Guildford – but still enough to give pause when it’s late in the evening and I just want to reach out.
It’s something that anyone who has had some distance in their relationships will identify with, I’m sure. It isn’t as easy to read nuance on a screen, or have the simple companionship and intimacy of touch, support, shared meals, or just those looks you can give each other in response to a truly awful pun.
But it does mean that I appreciate the time I have with each of my partners even more. The time and effort made to travel makes the visits at either end more precious; as well as highlighting what I have when I’m home.
Lady M is my wife, and to use a phrase bandied around at the moment, is my nesting partner with whom I intend to live out my days.
Lady S is my girlfriend, partner, and sub – and I also intend to live out my days with her in my life. We may even down the line all end up nesting together, but who knows what the future holds.
For now then, every so often, I just have to occasionally growl under my breath when I consider the physical distance between us.