“was our last meeting the beach you were referring to in your recent tumblr post?” he wrote
“no. it was the time before that. in a place we were both anonymous.” I replied
“there are other beaches” he merely taps out
my heart fills and my eyes brim at the light those four words represent. the beacon in the safe harbor.
i’m a proud, card carrying pluviophile. always have been. i don’t know if it’s a condition of growing up in the great pacific northwest or if it’s a combination of growing up here and having parents that didn’t restrict activities because of the rain. unless there was lightning strikes, my siblings and i were playing outside. riding bikes in the rain, football, soccer, running-yep all can be done in the rain. gardening, walking to the store, etc. on the flip side, rainy days also equate snuggly blankets, reading for hours on end, taking a nap. And as I got older, I’ve always found rain to be soothing, romantic and reviving as well as the perfect company for those moments when all i want to do is cry.
the romantic in me has always stopped at the sight of love in the rain. a pair holding hands and sharing an umbrella, children laughing and splashing in puddles with abandon, a couple sharing a kiss.
when we last met, each of us flying to a city where we are both anonymous in our every day lives, the weather was unusually warm and dry for the time of year. knowing my penchant for the rain, he surprised me while we were sharing a bath and turned on the shower as well and then he kissed me. and kept kissing me. kissing in the rain.
didn’t realize it’s been so long since I last posted. no, that’s not true. I realized it but when real life takes over, sometimes it’s all you can do to get through each day and before I knew it two weeks have come and gone in almost a blur.
work has been the kind of busy that I thrive on. usually. hitting the ground running from the moment you drive into the parking garage until you look up and realize you’re late to pick up one of your kidlets, your hair appointment etc. add into that the required visits to the lab each week, marriage counseling, your own counseling, volunteer commitments, friends and on and on.
the cancer is draining in that the fatigue that I carry with me each day seems to rob me of simple pleasures. such as my love of the blogging universe. there are so many blogs that I enjoy reading and commenting on and I miss each one of them. I haven’t even had the space to lurk and keep up with posts *sigh*
he has been traveling himself and our connection to one another is fraught with complications the least of which is time zones, internet connectivity from developing countries and the complex arena of our mutual admiration society in general. I won’t lie. I miss him. Every damn day. I want my goodbye. I want that silly, romantic event in which I can thank him for all that he brought out in me, for the safe harbor he provided leading to this point and to tell him I love him. in person. and will look back fondly in the hopes that when our paths cross again in 20-years we can smile at one another. but as everyone knows, what you want you don’t always get. and as much as I fight the cancer each day I can’t guarantee that it will be enough to win the war.
during counseling today i was stunned into silence when the counselor looked at me, then at darling husband, back at me before turning to face darling husband and said “you can’t fault her for finally choosing herself when she has always put you first. always. her choice, whether right or wrong, was still her choice and you chose to ignore her for so long that to raise an objection now is your issue. not hers. we are here to deal with each of these separately as they impact your relationship. but until you can see, not agree, but see things from her perspective, you won’t move forward.” huh…still processing.
especially since I also follow many blogs, maybe too many *nsfw* type of blogs but sometimes, when he sends me links to blogs he thinks i would like, it confuses me. and admittedly, it makes me a tad jealous. it shouldn’t, the well educated, rational woman in me knows this but i can’t seem to help it.
mostly because while the writing and the stories are salacious and all sorts of sexy good, they are also very similar in nature in terms of multiple partners or participating in the hotwife lifestyle. i am so not a swinger nor am i a hotwife (though i guess since we are not married to one another it would be hotwomanontheside?!). i have body image issues that plays about my mind and it’s only with him that I’ve enjoyed a certain liberty from those pressures. but truthfully, as I’ve stated earlier in this blog and on my previous blog that i’m moving from another platform, i am not a multiple partner kind of person. nor do i judge those that are. when i set about this journey, i thought i was going to have several fwb or even nsa sex partners. there was even a week very early on after meeting him that i had three other dates lined up and i had sex (always protected) with two other men. and i knew then that i wasn’t cut out for that. i need connection, no matter how horny and lustful i am.
he hasn’t shared many blogs with me, but he has shared enough that makes me wonder if he wants me indulge in that fantasy with him? i for one know that i could never share him with another woman, the typical guy fantasy of FMF because my time with him is so limited in the first place, i don’t know that my heart could take watching him with someone else. and while he has never asked me to be exclusive to him, it’s my choice and it’s my nature. just a random musing on how my mind thinks. i really want to see him. this separation will be the longest between our moments together, almost 21 weeks.
” just to verbalize what you know & suspect “i love you hun”. have good night. talk soon. bye”
wait! what!?! no you don’t understand, we don’t talk about feelings, especially mine since he knows I am attached to him. emotionally and otherwise. but not once have I ever considered he was attached to me. Ever. because he has always been so upfront that he doesn’t get emotionally attached and that he could just walk away from me if his bride ever got suspicious. I admit I have hoped, I have wished and I have even suspected that he might like me. But to luv me? Well I don’t even know if I can trust what I heard. I want to. Truly I do.
it’s a very rare thing when he shares a picture with me. he likes to tease me and tell me that i can find him on the internet (it’s true) but i freely admit that i wish he would take a selfie or send me a picture of his face. yes, of course i have memorized every damn thing about him but there is something about him sending me a picture that sends me each and every time. it’s been a while. so when he sent a mail with the subject line: here’s a new one…i literally gasped out loud when his cerulean blue eyes jumped off the screen at me. the eyes that move me and render me speechless.
i was instantly wet. and my heart felt warm. dammit. i miss him. but now i have a picture saved to a secure drive and posted here to look at.
I’ve been silent for a while. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I have too much to say. I miss him desperately, and the holidays don’t help, because he is genuinely a family man. The traditions of the holidays (American holidays for those that follow from outside of the U.S.) are core to who he is and how he and his bride have raised their children.
To those of you that sit in judgment, I completely understand, your doubts and your judgment. Really I do, remember, until the spring of 2012, I was the wife. I am still a wife. But you know what I mean, I was one of those self-righteous, indignant people that could throw rocks and sit in judgment. And yes, at his foundation, while he is a serial cheater, he is a family man. A very involved and good father. One that not only provides for his family, but extended family and friends. And because of that, he goes dark around the holidays…from the week before Thanksgiving until Christmas he is pulled in some many directions, just as I am and while I know it, and I know he’s thinking of me, it doesn’t make it any easier.
After last Thanksgiving/Christmas-I have found that if I stay away from all social media and the places on the Internet we frequent together (Tumblr, Skype, GChat, Gmail etc.) while it doesn’t hurt less, I am less likely to dwell on our lack of contact. This year has proven to be challenging which is problematic given it’s only the day after Thanksgiving.
The Holidays have always been a big deal to me, the connection, the sentiments, the music, the movies…all of it. And this year, this year I am finding it even more of an emotional pull on me than before. Is it because I am another year older? Perhaps. Is it because I am going through these unknown medical challenges with a surgery pending? Maybe. I think it’s because I love him. And while I understand that we are not able to spend any of this time together, in real life, I long to. I long to shop for the perfect gift for him. To wrap myself around his body and feel safe, sexy, content. I yearn to tell him how grateful I am to have him in my life and how much I love him. With no expectation.
*sigh* how could I refuse? It was my opportunity to sleep with him, if even for a moment. he was warm, not hot and sweaty but warm, snuggly warm, after the shower he had dried off, turned on the tv and hunkered down whilst I dried my hair. not out of vanity but practicality. I can’t get sick, and sleeping with wet hair in a cool room tends to give me a cold. There he was, dozing, and sexy as hell. Peaceful, no stress lines around his eyes, but relaxed and breathing. I giggled as I turn the tv down, low enough not to be a distraction but loud enough to ensure we don’t fall asleep completely.
Oh I was tempted, trust me. He stirred as I climbed in next to him and as if on instinct, he rolled to his left side and scooped me up into him. warm, fuzzy, snuggly. his breathing starts to slow and deepen and I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation around me and the way I fit. As if I was meant to fit just like that into him. My eyes start to flutter shut and I go to match my breathing with his when I realize that not only is his heart beat slow, steady, but his lung capacity must be incredible as I can’t match him breath for breath. I stop trying and instead, I allow myself to listen to the way he breathes, the snoring that tells me has fallen asleep, truly asleep and off I went.
Suddenly I wake, disappointed as I realized he is stirring and surprised to see that 45-minutes have flown on by. My heart is beating fast, not wanting this moment to end. This nap. As if he knows what I’m thinking, he kisses my neck as he says “shh baby, so sleepy, let’s just snuggle a bit more” and he nuzzles my neck making my nipples instantly respond and the moisture spring forward between my legs. “m’kay…” is my only response as I settle back into him and close my eyes. Willing myself not to cry from the happiness inside that confirms what I suspected, I am indeed in love with him. I want to sleep with him. Naked. Warm. Entangled. Willing myself to cry from the heartbreak of reality that he will never be mine. Not this way. Not entirely. Not unless he’s willing to acknowledge that life is messy, life is not planned and life has a way of showing us what is what in unexpected way.
And so I lay back and close my eyes for those remaining moments in which my life makes sense. if even for a moment.
eighteen months ago. who knew? eighteen months ago.
for everything that has transpired. for the way my eyes have been opened and my heart beats i am grateful. to know he will never be mine. i would still be the first one to lean up for that kiss. that. very. first. kiss.
is me is really me 