Cheater, Cheater, What Have You Done?

this is the last song she played for me. i felt my heart begin to fray as i climbed out of her car and into mine. since then, sting’s voice has haunted me. since then, these words have followed me.

truth is, she and i never talked about my relationship with my husband. she knew i was married. she knew from day one. but she also knew more than i’d ever revealed to her.

i will always associate sting with our goodbye. this was her last attempt to show me i needed to leave. she never asked it of me. never said the words herself. but, i knew, that’s what she was doing.

if he loved you
like i love you
i’d walk away in shame

I am still in love with her. Not a day breaks but that I think of her, and when the dogwood turns red in winter I stretch out my hands and imagine her hair. I am in love with her; not a fantasy or a myth or a creature of my own making. Her. A person who is not me… My passion for her, even though she could never return it, showed me the diffference between inventing a lover and falling in love. The one is about you, the other about someone else.

—jeanette winterson: the passion

is there a statute of limitations on personal transgressions? or will i be judged for falling in love with someone else for the rest of my life?

these are the things i ask myself daily. in rebuilding, there is a part of me that simply wants to move on. i can still recognize the changes. i can still recognize what happened. but i really just want to move forward with my life.

wedreamofit:

it’s classy, and worth hearing again….

Missy Higgins - Secret

For quite some time, this has been the soundtrack to my life.

as your lover describes you, so you are.

—

-jeanette winterson

i wonder how she would describe me now. at the start, she said i was her world. she said i was beautiful. she called me pulchritudinous. at the end, she said i was a liar. she said i was blackened and tarnished and without integrity. but now? now so much has shifted. most recently, she’s described my words as lovely and soul-stirring. maybe my words are where my existence lay.

in the beginning

it started with a picture. a pixelated image. my heart flew out of my chest. my breathing stopped. my brain tried to put on the breaks. but my fingers were tapping out: “i think you’re beautiful.”

for weeks i’d been captivated by her wit. i was drunk on her words, her jokes, her stories, her library, her every move. but it was that picture that finished me.

the way her sun-kissed hair fell across her brow. the way her head rested against her hand. the way a smirk played across her face. the way confidence shone out of her emerald eyes.

she. was. beautiful. she. is. beautiful.

within weeks, i was entrenched. she was my world. the very blood that coursed through my steely viens. she was my familiar. my world, my husband, my job, my schedule, those things were strangers to me now. she was the start and the end of my days. the measure of my life.

it all started with a photo. a pixelated image of the most beautiful face i’ve ever held.

i am such a cruel, cruel heart.

i cheated.

i did what i said i’d never do.

i could give you a handful of excuses. each one would sound more reasonable than the next. each one would come with sincere emotion. each one could be supported by evidence that exists in my life. but, each one would still be an excuse.

the world does not exist merely in black and white, but there is still right and wrong. perhaps i had good reasons for finding myself in love with someone else. good reasons, however, do not make me any less wrong.

in the last six months, my life has been filled with every possible emotion on the spectrum. in the last six months, i have experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows i will likely ever encounter. in the last six months, i’ve made some of the best and worst decisions of my life. and in the last six months, i’ve been wrong.

i have hurt my lover. she was all at once my sin and my soul. i have hurt my husband. he is my best friend. and i have hurt me. the cuts to my heart are irrepairable.

i did what i said i’d never do.