I kissed a man...and my life was forever changed...
I had been married twice. I had loved, I thought, much. But this relationship unlocked a side of me I never realized I had. It was volcanic, passionate...It obstructed my ability to see much that I should have seen.
It was long lasting. We've been together 22 years through so much good and bad and pain and joy. And it endured. A volcanic flame of passion that defined me and molded me and focused me.
Even after "the confession" the passion remained. We separated and the loneliness was so intense, I was sure I'd never survive the rest of my life without him. I cried a lot. I longed to go back, to go home. I thought of all the ways I could have "done/been" more. Different makeup/hair/clothing. More sexual/lose weight/talk more/talk less. On and on the endless litany in my head even though I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that none of those things would have made a smidgen of difference because his passion had waned many years ago.
And then, the man made a deal with "the woman" in the South...and I was almost consumed with anger. For days the anger burned. For days I could not have looked him in the eyes...
And when the anger left me...I looked around and all I saw was ash. The ash of our life. The ash of my consuming "in love" for him. The ash of my passion.
I was both bereft, and liberated. Don't get me wrong, I still love my husband and I probably always will. But that being in love passion that drove me for 22 years, didn't survive the inferno. I can look at him now and he's just a person.
It's hard to explain this unless you've been in a relationship where the passion burned hot and long and always. I couldn't look at him without desiring him. I can now. That is why I am bereft. I feel I've lost the magical something that defined us...
But it's also liberating. Because NOW I can finally be OK with moving on. I can build a life without looking back in longing. Without crying every time we have contact and nothing emotional happens.
I am free...
