Finding Forty, Day 18; Alone

Today I asked A not to read this blog.

He readily agreed. He told me that the blog was a source of trouble for him because he always felt like I was pissed at him for either not reading it soon enough or not acting like he wanted to read it, which, he assured me he always did.

I just asked him not to read it because I was beginning to feel like I had to censor myself and hold back on things I wanted to say because I knew he'd be reading it. So, I asked him not to.

Interestingly enough, if the shoes were on the other feet, I would not be able to comply. For me, being asked not to pry or delve into someone's inner most thoughts is an absolute invitation for me to do so. I'm horrible about that, but I know A in that regard and he won't pry. And you know what? If he does, then so be it.

As for S, he doesn't read my blog anyway (as far as I know), so I feel safe in being my true and honest self.

For you others, well...it is still hard to put myself totally out there, but I must. I mostly pretend like no one is reading anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

And, that is where I find myself tonight. Feeling ready to be as honest as possible in the most public arena there is, the world wide web. Interesting how talking to 'no one' or 'strangers' is easier than talking to someone face to face.

It's Sunday evening and we've had a good weekend, but it's been punctuated with moments of stark reality, the reality where it dawns on us that for over a year now I've been in love with another man. The brutal realization that if not for S breaking my heart, I would have jumped wholeheartedly into his arms. That doesn't leave a very strong foundation for what A and I have, despite all of our years together.

Why am I so scared? Why can I not see the path in 20/20 vision? Everywhere I look, there is fog and mist and gray, somber clouds.

My fear is that if I stay and try to work on things with A, my heart will always pine for S. Every sunset, every new experience, every good and bad time, I will be holding out a part of me that should have been shared with him. That is not the way to live, not the way to give to your spouse. A deserves better.

But then, I panic and fear that the greatest person I have ever known would be leaving my life for good, at least in that role. And how could I ever live with that?

Limbo land is hell. Hell on Earth.

So, you see? I can't have A reading this. I have to figure all of this out on my own and make the best decision for everyone involved.

Alone,
K