I had an affair for months and my marriage is over.
This was not the first time I've cheated but it was the first affair.
I have caused a great deal of chaos and pain for my wife, my daughter and my roommate. And the woman I thought I'd had feelings for.
I'm moving back to Maine in two weeks and I hope that by digging into work and not seeing anyone save for my daughter and eventually, a therapist or a psychologist will help me be a better person than I bothered to put effort into while I was married.
To simply say "I'm not happy, this doesn't work for me" with the knowledge that it could end anything at all, not just my marriage is scarier than I think I even realized. So I stall. I've never been sure of myself, much less of what I want. I avoid the decision.
I don't trust myself to know the truth.
Meanwhile I seethe. I forget why traction comes in starts for me.
I sit in judgement of others' poor choices. Who the fuck do I think I am? I let others tell me what a rudder of conscience I am. Up to this point, the ideal of myself was so romantic that I'd done everything I could to maintain it to myself and everyone else. I'm good with words, I understand people and emotions; there was always some rationale or bogeyman, right?
You must choose.
I don't think of myself as a coward. Most people don't. But resentment builds over a choice in limbo. I soon forget the fault is mine.
I talk and joke. Charm and flirt (I'll have to come back to flirting in another post). I do all this while the choice looms; a black chandelier over my head, the ropes in my hand the whole time.
I am learning that sometimes to talk is to put a petty distance between yourself and the choice. To speak is to make the choice exist in the open air. The choice is the truth. Even if it's wrong.
You're not happy. Figure out why. Then speak.
You're feeling apart. Distant. Speak.
You're looking elsewhere. She's noticing. Speak.
You think you're feeling love for someone else. Speak.
The choice is going to be made for you soon. Speak.
I keep talking...