Monday, November 16, 2015

EVERYTHING I SEE

This morning, I saw Doug, the "creepy guy" at the grocery store.  Well, I never called him the "creepy guy" before T gave him that tag.  I always thought that he was just a nice guy who always helped me load groceries into my car.  That was until he made me uncomfortable one day, and T was there to diffuse the situation.  About a month later, T told me that the guy was leering at, and talking directly to, my breasts.  Now I call Doug the "creepy guy".  Problem is, that I have no-one to talk to about him.

Such is life these days.  I see the creepy guy, and I think of T.  There are so many things that remind me of him.  When I pass a black SUV, I think of him.  When I see a Harley Davidson, ditto.  Many of the thoughts come out of nowhere, some that shouldn't remind me of him at all...like going to church.  You know how it is..."lead us not into temptation"?  When I think of the word "temptation", I think of him.  His picture might as well be next to the definition of the word.   T might not be around, but it hasn't stopped me from thinking about him.  One of these days, I'll be able to finish a sentence without saying to myself..."and then I thought about T".




Speaking of church.  I went to confession.   Bless me father, for I have sinned...confessed everything...affair, pregnancy...constant impure thoughts that won't stop, etc.  Not at our local Catholic church, mind you, because I didn't want to face Father Hanley.  I went a few towns over to a priest who has never seen or heard of me.  He said that I made the right decision to try to repair my marriage, and should go with Philip to marriage counseling.  Well...yeah...that's a great idea.  I would be more than happy to go to counseling.  Unfortunately, that would not fit into Philip's schedule--ever!

As for Philip, he is not making life easy.   He knows that a choice had to be made between him and T, and I chose him (well...technically, I chose Derek).  T and I are miserable, and that must make him very happy. For example, he saw me staring into space the other day and he snickered, reminding me that I should not worry about "my lover" moving on.  T could just open up his little black book and start with the A's.  It was so nice of him to point that out.  

T can move on, and I truly hope that he does.  Really...I do  (I think).  As for me, I seem to be stuck in a time warp--wishing that it was September again.  I'll even take August--before the affair,  when we were just friends.  I'll even take June, when I hated his guts--anything!  After a week, I just want to see him, talk to him or be near him.  There is this hole in my life that only he can fill.

This is so much harder than I thought it would be.  I find myself listening to Bread, and Barry Manilow songs, and there are no happy ones.  That's not a good thing.  I can only hope that eventually I will be able to wake up in the morning without wishing that I was still in bed.


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