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Will the Pain Subside? It's been eight months now. The pain of losing him is gone, but the memory of him still haunts me. I never thought I could go cold turkey and never speak to him again. We had both decided that we couldn't do that, and we would remain friends and in contact forever. It didn't turn out that way in the end. I have pictures of him and when I look at them I wonder who the hell is he. I start to question my own sanity and why I was even with him, because God knows I didn't want him in my life. I was forever trying to convince myself that I loved him therefore the affair was justified. However, when ever I would get in my car to go meet him, I would roll my eye at my own inconsistency; I hated it. I hated the fact that I was living a lie. I was not living according to my belief system, and I wanted him to be part of my truth. It was a major conflict for me. I was sure that I loved him, and sure that he loved me. For years he never gave me reason to doubt him. Looking back at our relationship I never let him in my heart completely. Even though I was convinced, and still am to a point, that I was in love with him. I didn't' completely let him in my heart. I never allowed myself to be comfortable with him. I never entrusted myself to him. When we went out to dinner I would pick at my food, I never allowed myself to become comfortable eating in front of him. When I would get in his truck I would never sit next to him unless he invited me to sit near him. If he had his console down on his truck I never asked him to pull it up so we could be closer. I know that I consciously created that separation between us. I don't think he ever noticed. He was always too busy talking about himself or his family business to notice that my heart wasn't with him. I believe that it was God's way of protecting me. Yet, I often used the method of outward speaking to convince him and myself that we were perfect together. I would tell him that I had never loved any man as I loved him, which was true, but that only proved that perhaps I had not yet truly loved. I thought I had learned more about him than he ever learned about me. I had asked him once why he never asked me any personal questions and he said, "If you want me to know you will tell me." Fine then, I decided not to tell him anything personal unless he asked. He never did. He knew very little about me as an individual, but he knew my behavior patterns around him. He would often say things like, "I know you." I doubted him, but anyone would know a person (even a little) after eleven years of contact. I would often allow him to think he knew me by saying, "I love that you know me." or "How do you know me so well?" He would say, "Because I pay attention to you." Games people play. Our secret life was a routine. He would page me every morning and I would return his call. We would chat for a while and make plans to see each other. Where would we see each other today? Would it be at the mall parking lot, perhaps under the bridge, at the gym or the park? It didn't matter as long as we were hidden from view. We would spend hours together and we would try to fit in every aspect of a relationship in that time. We would talk, eat, laugh, fight, make up and have.... everything in a nice little package. I was very accommodating and patient with his busy schedule. He promised me that he would make it up to me, always promised, never fulfill. He always felt bad when he disappointed me. Always felt bad when he disappointed me. ... "♪You are my sunshine, my only sunshine you make me happy when skies are grey, you'll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away.♫" I would sing to him over the phone. "You like?" " Yes, I love when you sing to me." He would tell me with a smile in his voice," I think I will use that song at our next camp. I will have all the student wake me up with that song." That put a smile on my face. "Does your wife sing to you?" "Never. You're the only one that has ever sang to me." "Whose your favorite band of all times? " I asked " Boston." her replied. "And your favorite color?" "Red." "Red", I asked, "If your color blind how can you see red? Maybe it's brown you like." I giggled. He explained that he could see some shades of red. ... I wanted to divorce my husband. I told nix about my plans, but he didn't seem to care either way. I was not about to leave my husband ifNixdidn't care. I began to make plans to get back with my husband. I began to slowly pull away from NIx. If he didn't want me in his life, I was not about to destroy my marriage for him.
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