It’s hard to predict when something will happen that causes me to stop for a moment of reckoning and ask: What the fuck am I doing? Why the fuck am I doing it? What the fuck can I do about it?
Playing Solitaire and eating unhealthy food won’t resolve it in a day.
So I should start at the beginning. What was it about him that gave me hope we could have a relationship? There were plenty of good reasons: he’s intelligent, sensitive, and very playful. He wanted to get into my life by editing my writing, and keeps in touch with countless emails every day. Our time in the sack is great. So, what’s stopping that from becoming more?
He’s married and been with the man for forty years who doesn’t know about us. We get together, but only when he can slip away. Isn’t that a big enough No No?
Yet I feel deeply, and he professes love. For a while it seems like we can work it out, but we still get to moments like this weekend when he does something that makes me feel unimportant, and I react. It’s not pretty, and this time I got pissed off.
Then, I have to ask, do I have the emotional resources needed to keep living on the edge? Can I let go of things that upset me? Will there ever be a calmer time?
I guess, in the end, there is no answer; just questions.