Sorting through some stuff…

This post is about why I had an affair. Absolutely NO nasty judgey comments. My blog. My rules.

I’ve come to understand some things about myself in terms of my attachment problems, C-PTSD, and [now] severely depressed condition. I’m delicate because I’m opening up whatever time capsules I need to in order to make progress. No dwelling, just understanding impact. The more I learn about the neuroscience and behavioral components, the more I understand why so I can move toward rebuilding. In order to look at everything on a detailed ground level, I had to tear the whole thing [my ego] apart. In doing so, I deconstructed my rationale and motivations more empathetically than I’ve ever been capable of, before now.

So here it is:

I was dead inside.

I wasn’t looking.

Apparently, I was looking for some validation that I was alive.

We had a little thing (sexual only) in high school and our paths crossed again.

I pursued him.

He might not seem terribly handsome to some, but to me he is beautiful.

He’s not wealthy, or status driven.

I could breathe.

My heart started to beat again.

I didn’t want to fall in love with him, but I did.

I still am in love with him. I might always be…

He has always been so patient and gentle with me.

He would be with me now, right now…if I were able.

He made me laugh and giggle.

He respected me.

I cowered in fear one evening, telling him that one day he’d say something – out of the blue – not meaning to hurt me, but that he shouldn’t be surprised if I crumbled to the floor in a tearful heap. I told him I was sensitive.

He took my face in his hands, smiled at me and wiped tears (his and mine) away.

He said “Sweetie, awwwww…I’d never make you cry like that. You should always smile. You’re so beautiful when you smile.”

And he’d stare deeply into my eyes and absolute, pure love washed over me.

In effect, I was warning him, which I did countless times.

He knew I was damaged and delicate. He didn’t run.

And when I tried to run, he’d gently and lovingly bring me back.

It was hard for him to watch what I was going through, especially as I figured out the extent of my abusive situation.

His trust was always in me.

I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did…he was what he was.

It wasn’t about the sex but the sex was divine. Truly. Divine.

I was myself.

Always stealing time to be myself.

I was free to be me, and what’s more, I wasn’t being punished or reformed.

I was accepted.

I had healthy boundaries and a healthy relationship.

I was so goddammed happy.

And treasured.

***

I’ve lost myself again. In the F.O.G. (fear, obligation, guilt). Trouble is, I’m flirting with that line of impaired return. I’m feeling sad.

It won’t last long…I hope.

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5 thoughts on “Sorting through some stuff…

  1. Went through something like that myself once upon a time. We managed to help put each other back together again after some pretty bad times on both sides, and came out the other side better people. Still pretty special friends (platonic), which ain’t easy to do. Being careful not to hurt the innocent helps with that last part, which we did. But….. No regrets. Something that did so much good can’t be bad. “Take a sad song, and make it better… “

    • Thanks for sharing that, sincerely. I’m glad things worked out well for you. Tough experience.

      In my case, things can’t and shouldn’t be put back together. The way they were was 10 kinds of bad, which is why we ended up here.

      I wasn’t happy then and I’m not happy now. [“jeez genius, what does this tell you about yourself??”] /laughing

      • I didn’t say they turned out perfectly.:-) hard to put context around it here.

        I was just saying I understood the feeling that you were talking about and how nice that can be. How affirming it is.

      • I gotcha. (I would have never envisioned “perfect” within the context of this particular conversation…my optimism would lead me to “least damage possible” as a best-case outcome.)

        The point is, you’ve sorted it out and have happiness now. That gives me hope and I felt understood – so thanks for that!

  2. You’re welcome. (We can take this to email if you want to talk further. hemmingplay@gmail.com) Our circumstances/dynamics are different, so I wasn’t equating them, other than the incredible, beautiful gift our respective friends gave us came at the right time and pulled us out of quicksand. Looking back, I believe that was what she was sent to do, and that it didn’t have to automatically lead to anything permanent. For various boring and particular reasons I won’t go into, it hasn’t, but there is a bond there that I’m grateful for, and always will be.

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