I long to kiss him again. I long to be kissed again.
real life
while i have not been one that follows astrology closely, if at all, i will admit that as an aries, i have found that many of the traits and characteristics attributed to aries are pretty spot on.
but i haven’t been like some of my friends or even colleagues that check their horoscope daily or plan their lives or decisions based on what their horoscope is for a day.
today, this fell upon my dashboard over on tumblr and it made me catch my breath. this is my second bout against cancer, a different cancer than the first time over 20-years ago when i was diagnosed with cervical cancer (rare in that i was only 23 at the time). add in my middle age, the tumultuous medical emergency involving my oldest that we’re still dealing with over 16 months later, my affair with him shedding more light on the aspects of my marriage i had long overlooked, having my youngest on the autism spectrum and a career that is morphing along with the organization i work for has led me to get very introspective as of late. so much so that i for the last few months I’ve wondered if i am no longer passionate about my career. the work, the company. the people. I’ve come to the conclusion that it isn’t my career choice or even the company that is so much a part of me. I need a change. But where? My personal life? I’m not ready to go there. Our kids are our priority and it would devastate them if I made a change. And no, lest you all think it’s because it would mean the end of him and me, while i admit that weighs on my mind, it is not nor will be the driving force if and when that happens. I am doing the best I can fighting this bout of cancer, I can only control the things I can control; eating right, sleeping, reducing stress. getting things in order just in case and for me, staying busy with my family, my work, my volunteer work and the rare moments with him. my work? ah, perhaps this is where I need to let go, and take that risk at something new or rather a new place, a smaller place where the work i am most passionate about has a chance to make an impact. to have a legacy in the core building of it’s foundation.
ramblings of an over active mind on a Saturday night.
before we met we exchanged a flurry of emails that started as witty banter and escalated in to a battle of words. words that demonstrated our imaginations and then our extensive vocabularies and then a truce.
ok, we said. let’s keep “chatting” over email because it was fun. it was nice to correspond with someone that had a sense of humor, broad knowledge on a range of topics and asked questions about my life, my interests, my family.
when it became clear that i was intrigued by this smart, well written man i agreed to meet him the next time he was out my way. a change in his schedule as he was in the air almost prevented the meeting from taking place.
when he walked into the lobby of the building, i will never forget the way i knew it was him before even turning my head. my body was abuzz and every fiber was on alert. then i heard his voice and it was the voice i made up in my head when i read his emails leading up to our meeting. what i wasn’t prepared for was the jolt that ran through me when we shook hands. the minutes flew by, chatting, laughing and conversing as if we had known one another a long time. he walked me to my car and we said good bye. the only physical touch was that handshake. but he was in my head long before that.
the first time i heard this song was in the movie “10 things i hate about you” way back in 1999. back then, my oldest was not yet two and the group of gals i worked with at the time would go out and watch the latest teen movies because we still loved them even though we were well past our high school and even collegiate years 😉
i digress. when i heard this in the movie i remember the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and i started crying. it was if i knew then, that the feelings of want and desire and ache were not just in my head that i have those feelings and i wanted my husband to want me. crave me. desire me. it was only two years later that i discovered he could indeed have those feelings. that he had them. but not for me. for her. the other woman who rocked my world. that pushed me from my self-righteous pedestal to the beginning of rethinking my black and white thinking and the gradual realization that life is indeed messy and very few things are actually black and white. ever.
i hadn’t heard this song in a very long time. and then one day, on a whim, i selected a playlist on my mp3 player because i couldn’t remember what was on it. this time, when i heard joan’s voice the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and once again, i started to cry. not because i wanted those feelings or wanted someone to have those feelings for me. but because i realized that when i experienced him having those feelings of desire and want for me, i knew that regardless of how he and i end up, i will have to face dh and have that conversation yet again. only this time, this time i know that what i’m seeking and asking of him isn’t out of the realm of possibility for me. it just might not be with dh.
it’s interesting this blogosphere isn’t it? you find blogs, devour them, feel as if you know or have a kinship with them. whether they are on opposite sides of whatever fence you are on the other side of. sometimes, they disappear, blogging is a personal matter and unless it’s how you earn your living it isn’t always easy to post often. sometimes, the impetus to start a blog in the first place has passed or perhaps they are just done.
in the last few days some of those that i follow religiously are moving through stages in their own story/journey each with aspects of letting go. whether it’s letting go of a lover, feelings, something in their past or immediate present. in even a few words, one can move me to tears while another inspires me with her strength to face whatever it may be when she returns to work on Monday. and others, others, speak to me in their yearning and longing to be desired, wanted, valued. to know they matter. we all matter. that’s just it. we. all. matter.
this week has been a week of ups and downs, as many of them are. the chemo treatment went as planned, the ensuing physical and emotional reaction wasn’t. while he and i didn’t get to interact much as we usually do each work day, he made sure to call my voicemail when he got to his office and leave me a morning message. the gesture alone warmed me. that it has been daily, and yes, surprise, even this morning (a Saturday morning at that) touches me in a way that i can’t explain. work continues to push and challenge me, this large-scale organizational change is pushing all of us. out of the blue, a congratulations message to a former client last week resulted in a phone interview and now I’m headed out-of-state for an interview in a week, I’m terrified. I’m lucky, i have a job i love and yet the potential opportunity with this new employer could be life changing. and i am scared at the thought of letting go of everything i know. of the potential reality that i just might walk away from the company i love, that is interwoven in who i am, the place that provided comfort and shelter in a way i didn’t know i was missing here at home. the thought of interviewing is daunting, as i haven’t interviewed externally for over 11-years. darling husband has suddenly decided that i have to decide. i have to decide if the sex life (or lack thereof) and level if intimacy that we have is enough because he’s tired of me wanting him to see a counselor, tired of me trying to have discussions with him when he just wants us to be the way we were before. when it was okay that we only had sex once every few months. when i didn’t “want” anything more. truthfully, if i change the status of my marriage, then i change he and i. i would have to because the balance would change and that isn’t fair to him. and so i realize that we are all on these journey’s and at every stage there is some letting go that has to happen.
words.
i’m a voracious reader and a lover of books, quotes, sayings…
and this showed up on my dashboard and something about the ache and beauty resonated.
Monday was my second round of chemo and after a particularly trying weekend with DH and the incident in which our youngest had to leave, my body was a bit run down and my reaction wasn’t as great as it’s been in the past. Besides the general fatigue that can befall one in these situations, or most medical situations, I was having trouble keeping food down accompanied by a low grade headache.
It was also a massively busy day at work and he and I were limited in our interactions with one another. typically, we don’t call one another outside of the work environment, cell phones are easy to track numbers and frankly, outside of work hours, we are usually with our families. He must have known I wasn’t at 100% because on my way home from the office Monday night he called me unexpectedly at 7:00pm PDT-I answered because I was in my car alone. Turns out he was out helping friends move into their new home and he was alone in his car. Knowing that I was on his mind enough at 10:00pm EDT to have him call me to check on my spirits as well as if I was able to eat was unexpected and sweet. It was a quick chat as his brother was about to get in the car, but it was a lovely chat at that. And it made me sad, not because he called but because it struck a chord that darling husband hadn’t checked on me all day. When I got home I asked dh if he wanted to know how my chemo treatment went and of course, I got the light kiss on the forehead as if dismissing a child accompanied by “everyone knows you’re too strong and too stubborn to die McKenzie, I’m sure you were fine and if you weren’t you would have called me.” huh…
I didn’t sleep well last night. Tossed and turned and spent a couple of time cursing at the porcelain goddess. I was exhausted and in that state I dreamt that he called me in the middle of the night. Just so I could hear his voice telling me to imagine him kissing me, holding me close and stroking my hair until I fell asleep. it was such a real dream that I woke up moist. imagine my surprise when I looked at my phone, in the spot near my side of the bed where I leave it with a missed call from him at 4:10am pdt. and a second call that was answered at 4:16am pdt…I didn’t dream of his voice afterall. he actually called and whispered in my ear for 10-minutes as I fell back asleep with my headphones in my ears and a sigh the only sound (according to him) that spilled from my lips.
while I am not surprised, I will admit that I expected the “hater’s” to be most vocal over on Tumblr. In hindsight, what I failed to recognize is that the audience on Tumblr is varied from very young in terms of maturity (and even age at some point) to those only seeking the salacious and then those in mid-life that see it as a creative outlet with some anonymity to express desires etc. And everything in-between.
When I decided to start blogging over here on WordPress, with the intent to be able to ramble on about him, my feelings, the emotional upheaval and awakenings as well as the conflicts, ache etc. I decided that in order to be genuine and authentic to what I was trying to achieve, I would not make this anonymous or private. I’d put this out on the inter-webs for anyone to stumble upon. Knowing full well, that as folks found this, they would have an opinion. One way or another. I expected it. This topic, of a relationship outside of marriage that isn’t an open marriage, a swinging marriage, or a polyamorous one is definitely a polarizing topic. Especially for those that have not lived in either of the other’s shoes (the Wife and or the Other Woman and quite frankly the Cheater) or those that have an opinion because it touched some aspect of their lives or perhaps they were like the me that was so righteous and judgmental whereas a betrayal is a betrayal regardless of circumstances or context.
I get it. I really do. In the last three days I have had more comments come through all starting with my original posting about saying “i love you”. I am only surprised because of all of the posts, though admittedly not that many of them, it was the “i love you” that’s brought out the lurking haters if you will. I don’t hide from the comments or the opinions, but I can decide what I will publish and who I will respond to privately or on this blog. I will not allow you to vilify those that read this blog in search of answers, whether they are The Wife, the Other Woman, someone looking for some salacious retellings (visit my Tumblr or the Nocturnal Notions link) or someone that stumbled upon here by accident. Lest you think I am flaunting my cheating, you are wrong. Am I venting, talking out loud about a place I didn’t expect to be, a love, in whatever context it may be that is very real to me and my own journey to what will be a conclusion that isn’t predicated on a dream of he and I being together in a marriage? yes.
Everyone sins, and everyone sins differently. I look in the mirror everyday and point my finger at the person looking back at me. I suggest that those of you who’ve sent some of the most hateful and ignorant messages I’ve received to date, do the same.
I have absolutely no clue. None. Ok, that’s not fair. In my everyday real life, according to traditional standards and expectations (as if everything goes by plan) I should be preparing from my oldest’s graduation from college and prepping for my youngest to be graduating from high school. Of course, given my baby is on the spectrum and even today, we had an incident occur in which we were asked to leave the premises, even though he wasn’t the one that threw punches or was involved in the start of the fracas, his reaction to the events in front of him is not what “normal” kids do at his age. And that reaction drew far more attention, in a distracting manner, than the three kids literally throwing punches. From a career standpoint, I am at a crossroads right now. With some opportunities I can consider or remain where I am. I can’t say for certain where dh and I will be or if we’ll be but that’s on me and where I’m at on my own journey. In five years, one of the charities that I volunteer for should be rolling into their 5-year development plan and the business plan and communication cadence that I co-designed last year will have been key in getting them this far. I would hope that he and I are still in one another’s lives in parallel to our every day real lives. I would hope.
is me is really me 