Finding Forty, Day 101; Fear Less

I've never seen The Exorcist.  I've never seen most horror movies.   Scary movies are not my thing.   They are disturbing, graphic, and I don't have time to be completely and totally freaked out.

Not having ever seen The Exorcist has led me to formulate many hypothetical scenarios about the movie.   If you don't know about something, your imagination can create a world far, far more dangerous and vile than the reality might be.   I can't say for sure and I'm not willing to watch the movie to find out.


I've also never bungie jumped or dreamed of sky diving.  I don't thrive on fear.   I'd rather get my adrenaline rush from a great bite of dark chocolate than free falling from an airplane.    Fear and I just probably wouldn't be friends if we met at a sorority party. 

The thing is, as terrifying as that movie or sky diving or anything of that nature seems to me, real life lately is scaring me even more.   The fear I feel about the decisions I *think* I have made leave me paralyzed and in a bit of a panic.

I knew the status quo wasn't working for me.  I think that if I allowed it, kept my mouth shut about S, hid all of my crying for when I was alone in my car or in the confines of the shower, A could have lived out the rest of his days with me.   I am not so sure I could say the same.

I don't want to cry in the shower to muffle my sobs.  I don't want to cry in my cute, fun car and then have to wipe my face clean and take 10 deep breaths before walking into the house.   I don't want to live the rest of my life pushing my emotions away.

Talking to A is always so scary.   He's such a nice guy, I hate to bring up things that are disruptive or uncomfortable.   Telling someone you feel like you love them, but have moved on from them is one of the worst things possible. 

I hint at it.  I ask a lot of "what if..." and "do you think..." sort of questions.  I want his permission to feel the way I feel, I want his understanding.   And for the most part, when he can separate himself from this mess, I do think he understands.

On Friday night, it occurred to me that the two things I love most about A are his amazing fathering skills and the way he is full of rock solid, compassionate advice.   I realized that both of those things can be savored whether we are married or not.    What he is unable and/or unwilling to provide are the things I need most.

It felt good to realize and accept that.

What didn't feel so good was trying to convey this epiphany to him.

Anyway, last night, I was feeling amorous and asked if he wanted to make love.   He told me no.   I'm not surprised, but that does hurt me a bit.   Not my feelings, but the realization that in wanting my freedom, it truly means letting A go.   I can't seem to make those things go hand in hand.  But I know I cannot have it both ways.   I can't.   It's insanely unfair to him.

When I awoke this morning, he wasn't in our bed.   Looking over at his side, with it empty, my heart flipped and I immediately jumped up to find him.   He'd spent the night in our son's bottom bunk.  He'd gotten up to read when he couldn't fall asleep last night and just ended up there.

Why do I panic when we make a move for what I want?   He deserves someone who loves him more than I do.   I deserve someone who can and wants to pay attention to my needs.   Neither one of us are bad people (save my affair) and we care about the other.  I just have grown to believe that our relationship has run its course.

And yet, today, we've had a good day.   We've talked, even laughed a bit.   We haven't kissed or hugged or even held hands, but we've been able to be around one another.

The Exorcist doesn't have anything on the fear this makes me feel.   I can't imagine living with him for the rest of my life, but I certainly can't fathom living without him either.

I'm more scared than I've ever been in my entire life.

Petrified, frozen with fear and unsure about how and what to do next.

The thought of the kids and how this impacts them just further perpetuates the fear.

And yet, the need to step outside this, to find me, the me that is separate from A, it just feels too strong to push away.

Sometimes I wish it was as simple as exorcising a demon or pulling a rip-cord, those seem lame in comparison to uprooting a sweet family and starting anew.

But the fears must be faced, one way or another.  

**As further proof of what a huge chicken I am, I first googled images from The Exorcist to add to this blog but was too afraid to look at them and post them here.   I know it would have been far more interesting, but I  just couldn't.   Imagine now, how scared I am to do the necessary things I have to do in REAL LIFE!**