Still Trying to Let Go

We were very clear in the idea that we both had a better life than we probably deserved. We were also clear we wanted the other person to be happy in the life they were already in - happier with our spouse, and much happier than he could be away from his daughter, or I could be without my two children. The kids should have kept us from doing what we did; that was absolutely our thinking and what I based all my confidence on that things would not get out of control. My kids have been my work, hobby, passion, and source of joy for ten years. Knowing the choices I made in spite of the strength of my commitment to them gives a peak at how overwhelmingly happy I felt for a brief time last spring and summer.

His wife wrote to me after the shit hit the fan, saying he said it was a terrible mistake and how did it feel to be a mistake - of course it was a mistake, but that doesn't mean it also wasn't an amazing time. In addition to being damn fun - and so hot - it taught me a lot about myself and who I am apart from a mom and wife. I spoke my mind freely - and that was accepted and even welcomed. I wasn't belittled or criticized. I didn't worry that I was being too loud or obnoxious or crass or breaking the rules - I was already doing all of it! I was having a blast for about 2 hours a day - and that seemed to be enough to keep me going the other 22. I lived for 10 pm so I could write to him and he was all mine.

I was in a fog - of happiness, lust, excitement, laughter, and kisses. A fog of kisses - best fog ever - I couldn't even imagine connecting like that before that day on the bridge and once it happened I did not want it to stop. I knew I liked him as a person - even when he was an ass I liked his assiness - but his lips took me where I did not want to go -- love. I was sure I could control my feelings. He is the "romantic, in love with love, I want my heart broken" one. He wanted to feel alive - and I am confident he did - but I was sure I wouldn't fall hard. I had too much to lose and already loved my husband. Then we connected - over and over again - with our lips. That was more intimate than anything else we could have done, and I remember the moment when he pulled back from my lips and I thought, "oh no" quickly followed by "oh shit" then "hell yes". How it wasn't obvious to everyone around us is still amazing to me. We were totally crazy about each other.

It made me nuts because he took these big risks - like he wanted us to get caught - or he just couldn't keep his hands off of me (my preferred version). I should have listened when he crooned, "I really like you but I can't be friends - not with these hands of mine." When his energy was around me I was totally intoxicated - could not look or pull away, even with the stakes that high.

Sometimes I listen to songs I know he is hearing on his way to work or while running to the grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. Country songs, pop songs - silly or romantic or so sad they make you ache. I like to imagine how he looks singing them and if he ever thinks of me when he hears the lyrics. I wonder how big of an argument we would be having about the horrid political situation or laughing about the obsession with everything Star Wars in our houses. I am relieved we did not have to cut it off when one or both of us started to resent the other for the shit storm we caused but rather the storm caught up with us when we still wanted to spend our time talking and writing to each other. A lot of the time I'm simply thankful I had a taste of such happiness - it gives me hope that I can find it again with someone I can weave into my life the right way when the time comes.

If I saw him again I think my first comment would be, "well, we almost got away with it..." just to see him bust out laughing. The aftermath has been so awful for so many people - not funny at all and still going months afterwards - but I am holding on to the memory of the laughter (and his hands) and the music (and his lips) and this rare beautiful intense connection with another person.