Based on a true story…
I love my woman, no doubt. If she needed somebody in her corner, I’d be there rain, sleet, hail, or snow. I’d do anything for her. I’d lay down my life if it meant saving hers, give my last to see to her needs being met, fight to the death in her honor if I had to. This undoubtedly is the woman I want to spend my life with. But there’s just this one thing..
And I did it again. After the first time it was like…I don’t know it was like a drug. I experienced the high then immediately the low mixed with guilt. But ultimately I craved it again, and more so the next time. I can’t blame the dealers, they used me like I use them, but stopping my abuse didn’t reverse the damage. I don’t even feel in control any more. I’m disgusted with the straight face I can put on when she looks me in the eye and tells me she loves me, yet I reciprocate the message because my heart is above my waist out of any outsider’s reach. While emotionally faithful as I may be, physically I no longer am and to her, there may be no separation. If she finds out she may forgive me, she may not, but she’ll never be the same. A broken trust will deal a fatal blow to her peace of mind, so I’m willing to die with this guilt no matter how heavy the burden gets. They say if you really love someone you’ll just tell them the truth. Like it’s that simple. But the truth is looking to take away the best thing that ever happened to me on the account of my aptitude to make mistakes…. but its ability to destroy is only in its potential to be known. Like I set a train in motion that can’t be stopped without the power to turn back time…and my options are to either let it collide with her head on, or to derail it off course to temporarily save both of our lives. Maybe it’s a selfish ambition, but in the same way I hold her heart, she holds mine. To lose her is to lose both and I don’t know how to brace myself for that or if I even want to.
So many things running across my mind right now that I just don’t understand and the world has no empathy for my sentiments. They just dehumanize me. People can’t fathom a love that lives in disloyalty…but everyone loves God and is disloyal to Him. Maybe it’s possible to believe in something you can’t live up to. The plight of trying to walk along the lines of perfection where the fellow imperfects draw them only adds to the frustration. When you’re wrong, nobody cares that you’re human but that doesn’t change that fact that I am. I’m having to grow up at her expense and playing Russian Roulette with our love in the process. I want an answer, but I am the problem, incapable of being understood.