I am bursting with feelings.With insecurities. There is not one soul alive that I can share it all with. Yes, there are those souls that get whole parts or certain stories, but none of them get it all. It’s not that I want to hold this all in, it is simply because I know they don’t want to hear it.
I do have a man that I love, but before this let’s get on to my issues.
I am married. I am separated, waiting until fateful day (four more months!) that I can finally divorce him. He wasn’t ABUSIVE really, not in the physical sense anyways. He made my soul die a little bit every day. I longed for the touch and impact of a kind, positive, driven man… one who loved me for I am. One that didn’t lie to me. One that I had no qualms about being with. I want the love of my life, and even on my wedding day I knew it was not him. I do stupid shit. I tried and failed to make it work until we both hated each other.
It was not until I went away for a month for work that I realized how much I relished being alone. How the silence in between our phone fights about money were the most blissful I’d had in quite some time… Most importantly I noticed men in their most raw, muscular form and how they looked, covered in sweat, their shirts clinging to them. My lust consumed me. I met someone.
I met a man who I believed was talking TO me, instead of AT me. When he looked into my eyes, I felt electric. I felt the sweeping infatuation of new love. I recall one night when we sat out late talking, and he made a comment about how if he ever got into a new relationship, that it would be with someone who had her head on straight, someone with drive and maturity.. Well, lucky her I thought….because I knew his dream girl was nothing like me.
It’s strange though isn’t it? Love. The more we talked, the more I began to think about him. I knew that regardless of what happened or didn’t happen between us, or what happened with my marriage, that I would remember him always.
I couldn’t stand it. I facebooked him, and asked for his number. Once I got it, I divulged to him that I wanted to talk to him, that there were things I had to tell him. If we could only go on a walk, if we could only talk. I didn’t know what I was going to say, I was hoping the words would come.
We never did end up having that walk or talk. He said he’d like to at least give me a hug before I left. I made sure to make time for that. When I put my arms around him, I wanted to burst into tears. Still, I can recall the texture of his soft shirt, how he smelled, the color of his beautiful eyes. It hurts me. I wanted to steal a moment, I wanted to kiss him. Everything inside of me screamed. As if that were not enough, he gifted me book which he had written a heartfelt note on the pages about halfway through. My heart ached for him.
In a serendipitous twist however, the delay of my flight out had landed out hotel rooms on the same block. I was over joyed when I found out my flight was delayed and immediately asked if he wanted to get together to hang out, maybe get some food. He agreed.
That night will live in my heart forever. I still recall it on demand when I need to smile. The look on his face when he told me that he wanted me to be his. If only I could. He told me that he had fallen for me, and wished that we had told each other sooner. The things he sad to me… He made me swoon. He still does.
We said our goodbyes, and I came back to reality. I greeted my husband with reluctance. I knew, that after feeling that electricity, after feeling that bolt of lightning, that I could never return to mediocrity. All of my reading, and meditating, and philosophizing had come to a head. We had sex one more time, which led to an immediate fight afterwards as per usual.
The very next day I told him I was done. After all of the threatening to leave, after all of the fights, all of the drama, I was done. I never felt more free than when I finally said it, and meant it, and stood firm.
Don’t get me wrong, it hurt. I have shared many years with this man, he just doesn’t make me happy. He was furious. I told him I met someone. I couldn’t lie, why lie? It made it easier to leave the house and make phone calls, and not have to lie about it.
I am letting him stay at our shared home until he gets his feet under him ( I have always worked, and he never has, so he is my dependent). I am crashing at a buddy’s house for a while. Until this residency law bullshit plays out. Four months down now, eight to go.