Is monogamy death?

I've almost consistently enjoyed the taste of freedom. Freedom to talk to whom I pleased, when I pleased, about what I pleased. Lovers called me "flirty", which felt only slightly accurate. I have an easy rapport with strangers whether they be models, grandmas, puppies, or the cleaning lady.....chat we will :) until.....I get into a relationship of the exclusive variety, the sort that promises to equally deprive the other of bodily fluids belonging to "others" amongst other things that are not only forbidden by the church but my current "captor" as well.
In the beginning.....I don't feel "deprived". I feel ....watched. I feel observed, evaluated. If I am walking with a "lover" and see someone of interest I don't stop to chat. I modify my behavior....I become somehow less.......personable. I dim my light, the inner one I like to shine on random passerby. I make sure my eyes don't linger or lock onto anyone or anything in case that "thing" is attached to any one. Now, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I have an almost uncanny resemblance to Angelina Jolie. What does that mean? It means that I spend a lot of energy averting my eyes and not sending ANY signals, lest I draw too many gazes which might lead to chatting which....well might be construed as "flirting". I'd like to add that sometimes people are just curious about why I look the way I do...but I do my duty to my "exclusive" status and shut down....unless, I'm alone :) then I'm chatting up everyone about everything but mostly hope. I like chatting about hope and light. I talk about the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel, the bright side :) these are my favorite topics of conversation. People love me and appreciate me and thank me. I've provided a service to my community that I don't fully participate in when I am "exclusive". Most of my peforming is for the current man in my life and involves some element of appearing chaste or in a glass case; on display but most certainly untouchable.....rendering parts of me, dead.
These are the unspoken rules of engagement. Perhaps if I negotiated different agreements I would feel entirely vibrant but alas how do I communicate with the male ego that my "flirting" is a service to mankind? How do I convey the accidental healing of hearts and traumas that occurs in my light? I am told of limits to expression and appropriateness. I am told the motives of others are not "safe". But how do I tell of a Grace that has walked beside me and inspired in spite of another's agenda?
I saw a little smoke on the horizon of my "exclusive" relationship. I don't know if there's fire. What I do know is....I am less interested in the transgressions of a lover as I am interested in the missed opportunities for Grace to work through me and for me. Have I hidden my light under a bushel for nought? And who is to blame but I, who has so gingerly lived to preserve another's ego from feeling attacked? Why have I defended these little deaths and do I have the wherewithal to accept the betrayal? Is it true where there's smoke, there's fire? No. But if a betrayal has occurred it started with me, against me, by me. Can I forgive myself? I hope so, I intend it. . . . .
as Dylan Thomas writes: "and death shall have no dominion."