what the hell am i doing?

I made one of these. I dont know why. I doubt anyone I know will read it, and that's okay. So, as I'm sitting at the computer, listening to a song-it's lyrics hitting painfully close to home-I wonder...what do I use this space for, now that I have it.

Do I talk about my day...my life? Like..a diary?

Speaking of my life...lets look at it then as this first post. Why not, right?

I met a man on the internet. At 18 I ran away from my family. From my country. From everything. My mother was deep into painkillers; so much so that during a withdrawl period I watched her smash a glass bowl and slice herself because then we'd be forced to take her to the hospital so then she could get some more pills. So like the coward I am...I ran. I was tired of being the adult in the house. Tired of going to school though I was Miss. Honor student. Tired of working and running off and sleeping with men so that I could feel loved-some of them almost 10 years older than me. I was tired. So I ran. I ran to a shinning beacon of hope. To a man who said he would always take care of me.

This man....my knight. How I love him. I married him, of course. Started a family. Moved in and immediatly became the 'mother' of his household. Feeding. Cleaning. Clothing. Fixing. Sleep. Repeat. Oh, speaking of sleep...I was so fucked up at that point and time...I barley slept more than a few hours. Thats why I started the medications. When I sat one day and seriously contemplated killing someone. I knew. I was going crazy. And I rely so much on them, now. When life gets hard and scary...pop a trazadone. When you cant stop crying for no reason... Chew a few up.

To get back on track I had a baby. Right after we married we fell through on money issues. Paying the money for birthcontrol wasnt quite as important as feeding ourselves after just taking out a loan for a $5,000.00 wedding we couldnt afford ourselves. So, the beginning of October during a immigration medical I find out the news. I'm pregnant. Joy. Another thing we cannot afford. But we worked through it. My husband took a second job at walmart. Working from 5am-10pm. In the winter he took another job hauling freight on the ice road. In the end, we had our son. Things were okay. We were coping. We were adapting.

And then...it happen. I dont know when...but after awhile it wasnt love making. It was...do it, or get bitched at for not. Then the talking stopped...along with the sharing. The will to spend time with eachother wasnt there. It became routine. He came home from work. Played on the computer. Ate. Went to bed. There was desire to have a bond and relationship...but the actions never started. My routine...no matter how much I hated it...became comfortable and common.

Then...I met a friend of a friend. Ive always been the type of person to become attached to people easily. I make friends and I immediatly love them and cherish them. Probably a bad thing. This man...this friend...well...in the end became so very much more. It started off innocently enough. We didnt talk often but when we did we had good times. We became closer and closer. Then...a situation happened. And without even realising it...it happened. I was told he was with someone...loving her...and the pain and rage tore through me. And I knew then. I started loving him. In the end...he was never with her. He went on a trip to see another. Which became a disaster. I was there for him. While he felt alone in a hotel room I tried my best to reassure him I was there for him. Kept him company. When the disaster hit...I was there. So very much wanting to take all the pain he had. My friend was heartbroken his sanity practically blown. And if I could have made a deal with the devil...I would have taken all his pain from him in a heartbeat.

It took awhile...but...things became okay. Not great-but dealable. He and I fell into a comfortable routine. Once in awhile depression...anger...frustration would take one of us. But we had a normal almost everyday thing. Wake up. Txt. Talk all day. Skype occasionally...which later became more often. He'd go to work. I'd txt and keep him company. I felt so alone then, except for when he and I talked. He became a best friend of mine. Someone I could tell all my worries and fears.

And so, the affair started. And, yes, im saying it now. I had an affair. My best friend became the man that I loved. The one that my hearts desire truley yearned for. My heart responded to his words like a magnet drawn to its partner. I couldnt escape the pull. I didnt want to. Sometimes I wonder if I still dont want to. But, in the end, the 'affair' ended. We needed space. Both of us. I became an addict and he was my heroine. His words made me soar and just seeing his face could lift me out of any slump-no matter how bad. He could make my body move for him in ways I didnt know were possible, especially for never physically being with him. I became a different me. A bolder. Confident with my body me. Doing things...showing things...saying things that I never knew I had in me.

But, we took space with the hope that it would help make our friendship stronger and our romance less. When he knew things were becomming too deep. When I knew...but didnt want to admit it. All the while as I was loving him...he knew what the right thing for me to do was. Fix things with my husband. Talk. Try and work it out. I knew, too. I just ignored it. While this 'vacation', (as i cutley called it), was taking place he began to feel for another. Strongly. I never knew how he felt for her. He never told me. All I ever knew...was the love he held for me. So, in the end, he truley loved her. And was able for a moment to call her his.


Then, the selfish bitch in me came out...the green eyed monster: jealousy. And, now that I think about it...it was so silly of me. I knew. I know. He loves...loved...me. But I realised that after it was too damn late. Why did it matter who he was with? Why did I care? Why? When all I ever desired for him was to be happy...did it truley matter that he wasnt happy with me? No. It didnt. I was married for christ sake. Trying to work on fixing said marriage!

Why...oh why...did I ever fall in love with two men?

I wont forgive myself for holding his happiness against him. I apologised. But I doubt he accepted it. What a bitch I was. After all the times I was told to never forget his love...for a split second...I forgot it and doubted it. Silly...silly...idiot girl. And in the end...that short...but powerful relationship he had romantically with that lucky girl ended.

And now...where am I?

He no longer loves me. Not romantically at least. He says it. And I believe it. It hurts. Not hearing the words from him that I held so dear. But why say the words that I want to hear...thoes three little words...when they are not genuinely felt? When you don't love someone with every fiber of your being...when every breathe they take is precious to you because it means they're living... thats when you say thoes words.

And still when we say goodbye, now that things are different between us, still I whisper to him-though he doesnt know since I dont type it-

I love you.

A habit i'll have to stop. Because...loving him...when he has no desire now to return it will only cause me more pain. I said before that meeting him was not chance. And I stand by thoes words. Knowing him...wasnt just coincidence. Two people that are/or were drawn to eachother like us..are meant to be together. As friends...or as Lovers. And now, the lovers part is dead and gone. So, i'll cherish his friendship always.

My marriage has never been better. And I will always be thankful to him for being the one cause in fixing it. I told my husband everything last night. Why I fell in love. How it happened. My childish fears of loosing him forever. He sat silent and held me as I cried about spilled my little guts about everything I ever felt and am feeling. Him...knowing full well I love this other man...and am crying for no longer being able to love him...told me it will be okay.

"We'll work it out", he says. "You'll never truly loose that guy. You were given hope of having a friendship. Take that."

And I smiled.

"...at least I can have him as a friend. Support him. Be there. And hope I get the same"

"That's right," he said to me as he held me in his arms and wiped my face.

I looked up at him...and told him the one thing I knew would never change.

"I'll always love him. I hope you know that. I might not be IN love with him. But I will love him. And I'll tell him, so."

My husband just shrugged and kissed me.

This morning I talked to that man. Things between us...certainly feel different. His pain that he feels from what happened with the other girl...its intense. And I know what hes going through.
Im just going to try to stand by him. I cant help him much. I probably can't at all, actually. But, I can try. It still hurts...to not say I love you to him. And on more than once occasion, as I was talking to him, I couldnt help thinking to myself...

What the hell am I doing?

And then I remember...
If I cant be in love with him....though there is pain in carrying that love...i'd rather feel that small insignifigant pain than the torture I felt when I tried to cut him out.