Another Thank You

Our afternoon together was wonderful. You are wonderful.

I'm trying to enjoy moments without wanting for more. I've heard accepting what you have is a good step towards contentment.

Being content with you is easy. It's the jarring return to reality that I dread.

Anyway, thank you. My dreams were full of sand and rocks and big blue skies.

The Challenge

You ask me what I want.

It’s so hard. It’s the hardest question I’ve ever been asked.

You see, all of the options are so damn heart-wrenching.

I don’t want to callously destroy my home. The thought of what it would do to my son, and even to my wife, is crippling.

But, I want to be happy, and I’m not. I feel trapped in a situation where I can’t rock the boat without losing what little I have and totally destroying my son’s life. I feel like I can’t even face the problems right now.

I still haven’t answered what it is that I want.

So, you asked me what “this” has to do with the bigger question of what I want.

I want to be able to love you without a constant internal struggle inside both of us. I want to kiss you, to touch you, to be with you in any way that happens, to be seen with you, to spend time with you, to have normal moments with you, without the worry and guilt and grave consequences. Yet, I know, and you know, what that wish would really mean: nuclear consequences. I feel ghoulishly selfish for even saying I want something like that.

The simple truth of how I feel is this: I still feel an obligation at home, and I have moments of happiness and nostalgia, and I really feel like I need to try to at least make a good effort to solve the problems she and I have. I don’t think that precludes or excludes what we have, as it is now. I think the rest of what I want (see first two sentences of last paragraph) will come in time. Inevitable? Irrevocable? I suppose so.

I want to enjoy what I have with you, as it is now, for as long as I can. I need your friendship and support more than ever, and I enjoy you as always. And, yes, I love you in a way that’s dangerous in its depth and breadth and passion and soul-shaking nature. Patience is needed.

Having said that, I’m also always willing to do what you need. If you think we need to avoid this situation or that situation, well, we can. But, you know I always want more of you…time, touch, experiences, attention, and so much more. I want us to stop fighting being happy and just BE.

You can keep the plastic dish, or recycle. It's all good.

Have fun at lunch. ;)

Argh.

I have every intention to living up to your challenge.

Once I figure out how to get this plastic dish back to you.

Making lunch plans with your wife for next week.

The Best Laid Plans

We need to talk about plans. Face-to-face or via blog or via email, I don't care.

Our plans aren't necessarily co-dependent, but I need plans. I feel increasingly trapped. Not by our situation, but by the rest of life.

I like multiple options, but mostly my goal is to be happy. I'm tired of the stress I'm under.

Why are we fighting happiness so damn hard?

I need to answer that.

Perhaps More Appropriate...

Totally blaming you...

Being all angsty myownself...

(My Own) "State of the Relationship" (Part II)

I shouoldn't have read yours first.

Honestly, what could I possibly complain about?  Wich a few tiny complications that I can't -- and won't -- do anything about, you are the man of my dreams.  And I'm glad you allow me to put the severe limits on this that I do.  Otherwise, I'd be unable to hanle it.  At times, it's overwhelming enough.

It's been a fantastic ride.  One I didn't see coming.  I still don't know where I stand and I can't find my seatbelt.  A voting portion of me knows that the "right," "good," "best, "kindest" thinkg to do is to stop.  But at the same time, another voting portion argues that we're not doing anything wrong adn that not seeing you wouldn't stop the feelings, which are wrong (and complicating) and something I can do nothing about.

My goals for the next year:

1. Maintain a non-nuclear status.
2. Take up your ",", (,) slack.
3. Quit being all freaked-out and weird.
4. Encourage you to make decisions that make you happy.
5. Talk less and make you talk more.

Thank you for bending time -- and for not getting pissed that I can't remember the details in order.

My Report, One Year In

The State of the Relationship, I am happy to report, is very strong.

In my opinion, at least it is.

I’ve learned a lot in the last year (but really ever since I met you), about all sorts of things, and I’m a much better person for it. I’m more tolerant, patient, and faithful. What an odd admission on so many levels.

I believe we complement each other well. While the adjective “perfect” is a bit much, I think “this" is a nice fit. Perhaps we would have problems galore if we HAD to spend time dealing with daily problems, or life changes, or whatever, but perhaps not. I go with that.

But, that’s a moot point, for now. I value what we have, and I’m curious as to what’s next.

Is what we have enough? Sure. I can’t worry about what’s next.

I treasure our moments together, our conversations (virtual or otherwise), all of it. I have to live in the moment, and moments with you are awesome.

So, that’s the good part. I suppose, with any review, there should be a “room for improvement” part. (God, I hate using so many quotation marks and parentheses.)

So, ideas for improvement:

1. Reduce quotation mark/parentheticals by 25%.

2. I need to stop self-editing so much. You deserve to know what I think.

3. We need to find ways to spend time together without invoking nuclear solutions.

4. We need to discuss what might happen in different scenarios for the future. I like plans a-z to at least be in the mental filing cabinet.

5. We don’t need to over analyze what’s going on. That gets in the way of the enjoyment.

I love you. You make me joyful. Thanks for the last year, and more.

Wish Fulfilled

You got snow.  Now get better.

Nice to be Normal

And yes, I consider yesterday normal.

I told you this would be MESSY, not muddy.  :)

Outdoor Showers

So, here's my latest possibly helpful dream:

You and I had been off on one of our outdoorsy adventures, and we were covered in mud. COVERED. We found an outside faucet somewhere, and we both stripped down to shorts and t-shirts (we had jeans and long sleeved shirts on before that) to wash the mud off ourselves. About that time, my wife drove by. She just shook her head and went on.
You said, "I told her we were going somewhere muddy."

Ta-da!

Thank you for yesterday. It helped more than you can imagine.

I think it's paper... Or glass... Or whiskey... ;)

Has it been a year? I know, you told me the date. It feels like this has always been happening. Unless it feels like it never really happens. It's done all sorts of fucking with my sense of time. I feel that we should somehow commemorate it, but there's nothing appropriate.

Ever.

You're welcome whenever. You have to understand – I'm not being self-congratulatory here – when we're in situations like that, your feelings are just a drop in the bucket. I don't know why or how but I know THAT. Your feelings are not unique. Your public actions with me are not unique. I'm not being dismissive, but to give more detail would be to give to much in this forum. You know what I'm saying, anyhow.

This could just be a crush. It could just be basking in mutual attention. I don't know. I'm not playing you. I don't have that capacity. Even when I flirt with the masses, I think I'm honest about my lack of investment. And with you, I've been clear that it's otherwise. Which is why I worry it.

I don't care to be your thunderbolt or render you speechless or whipped. I can't help it. I like the moments when we can just be us – moments that are becoming rare because who we are is changing quickly. I'm finding myself more willing to take risks – and less willing to pay the consequences. It's a difficult position to be in and mirrors yours.

I don't understand why this isn't okay. But, even before I was in THIS, I didn't understand the push for monogamy in relationships. Seems like the wrong way to do things. Why can't we just be who we are? Why can't we just be people? Why can't things be what they are? It's not just that I think we deserve that freedom, I think everyone does.

That's just me raging against the machine and preaching to the choir.

Our friend is probably right. We'll need to do something – at least make a decision. Eventually, it will be unbearable to be near each other. As it stands, I have to have some pretty sturdy distractions to form anything like a cohesive thought around you. A plan might make us more comfortable. I know that issues on my end – work, paranoia, distractions – have kept me from actually laying eyes (and hands) on you in quite some time. I'm not sure how that's twisting what's in my head. I do know that I have no idea who I am sometimes. When I think about this... It's so out-of-character...

But, I know we won't do anything. We'll just ride this as long as we can – until something outside of it changes. It's not going to be more than this – we're too rational – but we can't make it less.

The Month of Fevers

I woke up at 5 this morning thinking about this. You’re like a thunderbolt through my brain sometimes. I hope you know this. Sometimes, everything else of any importance fades away, and all I can think about is you.

It’s been one year this week since the beginning of this part of our relationship, this acknowledgment (at least to ourselves) of the obvious.

I promised you a recap of the on-the-way-home conversation. I’ll get to that. Some other details first.

I had resolved not to see you. The reasons are many. I didn’t want to cause problems for myself at home, I didn’t want to add to the drama of the night for you and the other girls in some damn way, I didn’t want to cause problems for you at home, but the main reason is that I don’t trust myself to behave properly. I fear I’ll say or do something, ever so slight, that someone will recognize as a sign of how I feel, or maybe our interaction will be too loud or too close or too intimate. That scares me for you, and I fear it. In the end, my need to see you was too much. I HAD to see you. (I didn’t watch something important on TV so I wouldn’t be late….)

When we got there, I knew I’d see you before anyone else. I was fighting to get through the door to get to you.

Seeing you like that is like a religious experience. It’s you, magnified and glorified, and I know you’re smirking your best smirk right now, but you probably have no idea what it’s like to be this infatuated and this absolutely whipped.

I kinda sorta lied to you last night. Well, not really, but I was trying to lessen what I was saying in case he saw the conversation or you had to answer questions. Unless he doesn’t know what I look like, he had to have seen me because he looked at me. Well, through me. Twice. Once again, my own fear of consequences for you might have made me paranoid. Maybe it was just my own imagination.

At the end of the night, you came up to us, and I felt so damn unsure of myself. It’s an odd sensation for me, and I’m trying my best to explain it to you. I was afraid people could tell how I feel. You are so lovely, so alluring, and I feel like a slack-jawed yokel sometimes just watching you. Your accent comes out, and I melt inside. All of that’s why I told you I was speechless. It was a love-paranoia-worship combo.

I left you, went into the bathroom, and attacked the towel dispenser.

I walked out, tried to say hi to him, and walked outside into the cold.

We lasted to the outskirts of town before our friend asked me the question.

“So, what are you going to do about her?”

He knows the high stakes. He knows both of our situations, for the most part. His advice was painful at times.

You see, my dear Eris, I even allow myself sometimes that maybe I’m just being a schmuck about all this. Maybe this is some kind of high school bullshit crush, or maybe we both just enjoy the little bit of attention we get from each other, or maybe you’re just playing me like a foolish fiddle of a man. But, you tell me to live in faith, so I do.

For the last year, we’ve put our lives as we know them in jeopardy for “this” or for each other. We can plead what we haven’t done until we’re blue in the face, but what we’ve said and done would be enough to be dire.

So, I told him I didn’t know. I told him how frustrating it is to worry about someone finding out, how it handicaps my interactions with you sometimes and makes me seem even more guilty, how I just have to stop worrying so damn much but when I do I make a stupid mistake like what happened a few weeks ago at the office. I told him I was 100% consumed by you.

He told me I had a couple of options, all of which I knew about. I could continue on and enjoy whatever it is I have with you. I could pursue something more with all the consequences that entails. Or, if this is too painful, I should distance myself from you, no matter how painful that would be.

I told him I just didn’t know what was even possible.

You see, my sweet girl who giggles when I call her sweet, this should be really damn easy, and maybe it is for you. Maybe you’re OK with what we have, and I guess I am, too, as opposed to the other alternatives. Yet, here I am, longing at times for something I can’t define, so I guess I’m not supposed to have it. I guess I’ve always wanted too much in life. Contentment is not my thing.

Still, can I continue like this? Sure. Life has a way of surprising us, no matter how inconvenient it might seem.

It was supposed to snow that week, too.

Where's my Shadow?

Damn.  Six more weeks of crazy.

I don't know what's on my mind.  Home is strange.  It's the cavalcade of I'm-sorry gifts and the constant prodding (and possible nursing?) of the relationship.  Regret doesn't end with milkshakes.

If I were writing this, I would write separate stories.  But I'm a compartmental girl.


Hope the little peep feels better.

February 1

I thought about you on the way to work this morning. I still can't figure out where to place you, or this, in the overall grand scheme of my life story. You know, in the "if-I-were-writing-my-autobiography" sort of way.

But, that's OK. I've never liked finality, and I surely despise labels.

I saw crows, and dreary skies, and plenty of puddles of rain. That made me happy.

So, now it's your turn. What's on your mind?