Baby Steps

I dedicate this to all the feckless fools in the world who trust too much and forgive too easily. There is a special place in purgatory for us to work out our poor, spiritual self images.

I am a man in constant denial. I am married to a woman who has remained unfaithful to me in her heart for most of our union. She is fascinating in her frenetic view of the world. I have acted as her excuse of deprivation long enough. She evicted me from her heart and yet our corporeal selves remain inexorably entangled. Alright, we share four children we both adore. She and I don't feel any tangible animosity toward one another. I'm certain she has given her heart multiple times to others because I have stumbled upon her overt entreaties nearly every time. I believe her latest pursuit would be of a tall, blond, Nordic bartender she works with. Perhaps unbeknownst to her, perhaps fully realizing her absolute inability to conceal her intent and emotions, I know her as well as any other and easily recognize her limp attempts to deflect queries into the truth. "He's gay," she offers. "You met him. He's so obviously gay." By her doing this what she has actually done is warn me: "I find him attractive and he stirs something within me."

We've been married for 10 years, eight months, and a day. I have gleaned a wealth of knowledge from our mutual experiences over the years. I love her and it has become entirely too unhealthy for me, for her, and, gradually, for the children, to continue flogging the dead beast that had once been our amorous existence. Her occassional honesty allows the infrequent lucid interval and she declares her intent to leave because she "no longer loves me. You're not the man for me." I can deal with this. The truth hurts but I can see the wound and work on healing it. A wounded animal is dangerous. I am tired of being someone I'm really not out of deference to the hopeless hopes that she'll suddenly realize just how great she and I can be together. I give up.

I am not as pathetic as I may be coming across. I am more pathetic. No, not really. I promise future improvement in my entries...more fun...more humor...more of the real me that I have allowed to get away over the years. I am a teacher at an all boy's, Catholic high school. I commute 110 miles a day. I have a rich and interesting past, a sordid, depraved, dysfunctional upbringing worthy of a book. I am suffering from a clogged wanderlust. I am in love with a woman who wants to be anywhere but where she is, unless it's where she knows it is the wrong place to be. Never a dull moment with the MaMa of Drama. But, God, I do love her.

I am done for now. Droppin' it like it's hot, baby.