Brave Enough To Be Bliss

Chapter 11 — Better Together

“Forgiveness means giving up hope for a different past. It means knowing that the past is over, the dust has settled, and the destruction left in its wake can never be reconstructed to resemble what it was. It’s accepting that there’s no magic solution to the damage that’s been caused. It’s the realization that as unfair as the hurricane was, you still have to live in its city of ruins. And no amount of anger is going to reconstruct that city. You have to do it yourself.” Heidi Priebe This chapter may be difficult to read, especially if you have been involved in a similar situation. I would ask you to read it with your heart instead of your brain. Without condemnation, but rather with compassion. This is the hardest chapter for me to write because I hurt people I love. While I didn’t set out to do so, I did , and hurting them is something I very much regret. I promised I would be honest and vulnerable in the introduction of this book, and this was a very real part of my life, so I cannot leave it out even though it’s tempting to do so. Those who will judge me definitely will put this chapter in the bad or ugly category of my life. I cannot defend it; all I can do is try to explain it. When a friendship developed with a man, it wasn’t something that caused me concern. We were both married so I naïvely thought it was simply a friendship and nothing to worry about. He was different than anyone I had ever known, though. He seemed to “see” right into my soul, and into the pain. And over time, I found myself being more honest and open with him than I had ever been with anyone. After several years of pure friendship, there was a feeling of safety with him I hadn't ever felt before. I was able to share thoughts and feelings with him that I wouldn’t previously have dreamed of telling anyone else, male or female. There was an honesty in our communication that was so foreign to me that it made me wonder what I was feeling, but like most feelings, I just pushed them down and reminded myself we were both married and only friends. But early one morning, as I was driving to work listening to the song Better Together by Jack Johnson, I caught myself thinking of him. Everything really did feel better when we were together. It felt like what I imagined a close relationship, maybe even a marriage, should feel like. At that point, I recognized I was developing intense feelings for him that extended beyond friendship. I should have immediately stopped having any personal contact with him, but for those brief periods of time we were together, I was free. I was the most real me I had ever been in my life and selfishly, I didn’t want to give that up. Even though it was painful living a lie, even though I risked hurting my family and his, I just couldn’t force myself to give up this loving relationship that had opened doors within me I didn’t even know existed. I knew it was wrong with every fiber of my being, and yet, I didn’t stop seeing him. When we were together, I could escape to be the most real me I had ever been. My secret life was when I didn’t have to hide. It felt like I could be seen for who I really was and, while desperately wrong, still actually believe and feel I was loved for who I really was on the inside. The imperfect, wounded person I was on the inside could come out into the light and be seen and accepted. One day I saw my daughter looking at my phone and was horrified, thinking perhaps she saw a text message from him. In my heart of hearts, I knew she probably had, but I didn’t speak of it and neither did she. I believe the message she saw said, “ I love you, ” which had to be very confusing for her and it still pains me to think of how that must have felt.

At the time, I didn’t realize just how much I lied about most everything. “Ginger, how are you?” Fine , I would say. “Are you upset, Ginger?” Oh no, not at all , I would say.

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