I feel so lost. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or not do.
I get down about someone to love. I thought I had the "one" who was right for me. I thought that for thirteen years. I am scared to death. I honestly don't want to try to find someone else. I really don't want anyone else. I distract myself pretty easily, because I still have my husband as my closest companion, I have a lot of close friends who I love, and I have a lot of interests. I am passionate about life.
But I can't help but long for someone to hold, to kiss. I miss that. Of course I really want it to be my husband, but, of course, I know that's not possible. When you have readily available affection for that long, it''s hard to not think about.
My mindset of late is that I don't feel I will ever have another "relationship". I just don't see the point. I can no longer imagine that there's a "one" out there for anyone. You have to take what you get. I get a gay man. He'll be looking for his "one". I'm not it. But I consider him mine. What am I supposed to do with that?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Transition
I keep feeling the tug of the pen, the keyboard, the written word, but it's terribly difficult to find time to put it down. Even now I should be starting a load of laundry so I don't have to wear the pants that I hate to work tonight. And it's only a matter of time before one of the kids interrupts my train of thought and makes me get up to get something for them, and Pop steals the computer.
2007 was a year full of agonizing pain, deep sorrow to my innermost core, and terrible despair. It was truly the worst year of my life, and many times, though I didn't really have thoughts of suicide, I did wish that I did not have to exist and endure these feelings. But sometimes we have to persevere regardless, and I imagine most good people grow and learn much during these trials of life, as I did. I also know that what Pop and I have been through is not the worst thing that we will experience, though it felt like it. I can only hope that the strength I now know is mine will get me through whatever comes my way.
To clarify, 2007 began with Pop's discovery that I had been unfaithful. I came clean and told him everything, I had been sleeping with a guy over the course of 2006, and in the first part of 2005, I had a brief affair with a different guy. I can imagine how difficult it must have been for him; it was agonizing for me not only to tell him, but also to know that I had done it. He didn't believe me when I told him that was not what I wanted and I didn't know why I did it and I all I really wanted was him and our happy little family. That was all true, though of course it doesn't excuse what I did. I was dishonest and sneaky for a long time, and when it all came out, even though it was very painful for both Pop and I, I felt so relieved that it was over. As Pop questioned at the time, why didn't I end it if that wasn't what I wanted? I really don't know the answer, and I probably never will. All I can do is try to learn something from it.
The next 9 months was like being stuck in a mucky mire, sludging through and feeling stagnant, in constant pain from hurting the one I love so much, feeling guilt, shame, and worthlessness, not knowing what the future held, struggling to find the strength within to face life's everyday occurrences, to be there for the kids, just to make it through work and through each day. Going through the motions. All the while I tried to keep hope, and I constantly thought of Pop, day in and day out, and I would force talking. There were many late nights of drinking and talking. I was terrified that I had destroyed the love we had developed for twelve years, and we could never regain it. He was and is my best friend, and I had shattered his trust in me. My worst fears were coming true; I was losing him, my family was falling apart, and I felt a future without Pop would forever be empty. I felt destined for a life full of sorrow and regret, and I felt that I deserved it.
The whole time, I constantly checked the history on the computer and read his sporadically kept journal, trying to grasp onto his thoughts and open up conversation somehow. In autumn he began to look at gay porn on the internet. This was not new to me, as we had both always considered ourselves bisexual, and I knew he liked guys before we were even friends, 13 years before. I let him know it was okay, as long as he would be honest and communicate with me about his thoughts. There were more drunken late night talks where we poured out our feelings to each other, many with both of us in tears, both of us realizing that he is actually gay.
For a few weeks, I was in the darkest place I had ever been in, trying to make sense of 13 years, trying to grasp onto him in any way I could and somehow make him be bisexual. I was in the deepest despair I ever knew. I would break down at any random moment, especially at work, and I couldn't really talk about it to anyone but him. I knew I had to let go, but it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
He came out in November. He began to be a happier, more understanding person, he had come out and could now really, truly be himself, and even to discover himself, because he had been repressing it for 13 years. He was actually glowing.
It was very intense for a couple of months as our routine transformed around us. I struggled inside, knowing that I had to accept it, things were going to change, and all I could to was try to gracefully come through it. I grieved for and still miss our sex life. I always thought it was fantastic and thriving, even throughout the past three years. He says he can't give me an explanation. I have to leave it there; it was what it was. Now it's time to look forward.
In order to let him go, I had to not think about my self or my feelings. I can't describe the feeling I began to have, sort of a peek into something bigger than the self or the individual, and it involves selflessness, acceptance, honesty, and kindness, for everybody in the world.
Music and books played an integral role in our journey over the past year. Some songs were especially difficult to hear, yet opened my mind, some songs I grasped onto to keep me grounded. Lines from books and songs have made me weep or see a bigger picture. And sometimes entire bands have brought Pop and I together. Maybe I'll compile a list.
The entire purpose of writing all of this down was to record the feelings and the experience for posterity. You would think that I would want to forget about the entire year and not look back, but I never want to forget that pain and sorrow, because I never want to cause it again. I also felt I had to try to record that feeling I have now, that universal something. Though I can't describe it, I hope I can always remember it.
Here I am now on the doorstep of 2008. Though he hasn't actually said it, I feel as though Pop has forgiven me. I have been able to forgive myself, and it feels freeing to be honest, to not be sneaky, and to let go of guilt and shame. I am happy that Pop is happy, and we are beginning a new journey, a new chapter of our lives. The vision in my head is us holding hands with each other and our two boys, walking into a sunrise with open minds and love. In our late night talks, we both agreed that we have a strong bond that doesn't need to be broken. We truly love each other, and will remain lifelong friends. We will raise our children together, and teach them that they can always be comfortable with who they are. We will continue to discover ourselves, to learn, and to enrich our lives, and to be here for one another.
2007 was a year full of agonizing pain, deep sorrow to my innermost core, and terrible despair. It was truly the worst year of my life, and many times, though I didn't really have thoughts of suicide, I did wish that I did not have to exist and endure these feelings. But sometimes we have to persevere regardless, and I imagine most good people grow and learn much during these trials of life, as I did. I also know that what Pop and I have been through is not the worst thing that we will experience, though it felt like it. I can only hope that the strength I now know is mine will get me through whatever comes my way.
To clarify, 2007 began with Pop's discovery that I had been unfaithful. I came clean and told him everything, I had been sleeping with a guy over the course of 2006, and in the first part of 2005, I had a brief affair with a different guy. I can imagine how difficult it must have been for him; it was agonizing for me not only to tell him, but also to know that I had done it. He didn't believe me when I told him that was not what I wanted and I didn't know why I did it and I all I really wanted was him and our happy little family. That was all true, though of course it doesn't excuse what I did. I was dishonest and sneaky for a long time, and when it all came out, even though it was very painful for both Pop and I, I felt so relieved that it was over. As Pop questioned at the time, why didn't I end it if that wasn't what I wanted? I really don't know the answer, and I probably never will. All I can do is try to learn something from it.
The next 9 months was like being stuck in a mucky mire, sludging through and feeling stagnant, in constant pain from hurting the one I love so much, feeling guilt, shame, and worthlessness, not knowing what the future held, struggling to find the strength within to face life's everyday occurrences, to be there for the kids, just to make it through work and through each day. Going through the motions. All the while I tried to keep hope, and I constantly thought of Pop, day in and day out, and I would force talking. There were many late nights of drinking and talking. I was terrified that I had destroyed the love we had developed for twelve years, and we could never regain it. He was and is my best friend, and I had shattered his trust in me. My worst fears were coming true; I was losing him, my family was falling apart, and I felt a future without Pop would forever be empty. I felt destined for a life full of sorrow and regret, and I felt that I deserved it.
The whole time, I constantly checked the history on the computer and read his sporadically kept journal, trying to grasp onto his thoughts and open up conversation somehow. In autumn he began to look at gay porn on the internet. This was not new to me, as we had both always considered ourselves bisexual, and I knew he liked guys before we were even friends, 13 years before. I let him know it was okay, as long as he would be honest and communicate with me about his thoughts. There were more drunken late night talks where we poured out our feelings to each other, many with both of us in tears, both of us realizing that he is actually gay.
For a few weeks, I was in the darkest place I had ever been in, trying to make sense of 13 years, trying to grasp onto him in any way I could and somehow make him be bisexual. I was in the deepest despair I ever knew. I would break down at any random moment, especially at work, and I couldn't really talk about it to anyone but him. I knew I had to let go, but it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
He came out in November. He began to be a happier, more understanding person, he had come out and could now really, truly be himself, and even to discover himself, because he had been repressing it for 13 years. He was actually glowing.
It was very intense for a couple of months as our routine transformed around us. I struggled inside, knowing that I had to accept it, things were going to change, and all I could to was try to gracefully come through it. I grieved for and still miss our sex life. I always thought it was fantastic and thriving, even throughout the past three years. He says he can't give me an explanation. I have to leave it there; it was what it was. Now it's time to look forward.
In order to let him go, I had to not think about my self or my feelings. I can't describe the feeling I began to have, sort of a peek into something bigger than the self or the individual, and it involves selflessness, acceptance, honesty, and kindness, for everybody in the world.
Music and books played an integral role in our journey over the past year. Some songs were especially difficult to hear, yet opened my mind, some songs I grasped onto to keep me grounded. Lines from books and songs have made me weep or see a bigger picture. And sometimes entire bands have brought Pop and I together. Maybe I'll compile a list.
The entire purpose of writing all of this down was to record the feelings and the experience for posterity. You would think that I would want to forget about the entire year and not look back, but I never want to forget that pain and sorrow, because I never want to cause it again. I also felt I had to try to record that feeling I have now, that universal something. Though I can't describe it, I hope I can always remember it.
Here I am now on the doorstep of 2008. Though he hasn't actually said it, I feel as though Pop has forgiven me. I have been able to forgive myself, and it feels freeing to be honest, to not be sneaky, and to let go of guilt and shame. I am happy that Pop is happy, and we are beginning a new journey, a new chapter of our lives. The vision in my head is us holding hands with each other and our two boys, walking into a sunrise with open minds and love. In our late night talks, we both agreed that we have a strong bond that doesn't need to be broken. We truly love each other, and will remain lifelong friends. We will raise our children together, and teach them that they can always be comfortable with who they are. We will continue to discover ourselves, to learn, and to enrich our lives, and to be here for one another.
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