A River of Tears

It finally happened. I've been crying a river of tears the past two days. It's been over two weeks since I told my married man that this wasn't working for me anymore and I've been strong, calm, collected, and patiently waiting for a response. No real tears until these past few days. Now it's a river.

When I first told him, he was blind-sided by it all. I did it right after we made exquisite love to one another. (I have to admit that I was surprised at my timing!) I'd never told him that before. He could always count on me to be there for him: with my love, my faith in us, my consistent, undying devotion to him and to us that I so freely gave. I don't believe that he ever thought I'd have the guts to let him go.

I honestly saw him tremble and all he could do was jet out the door as I began to question him about his inability to move out of his house for these past years. Let's just say it was a deep, probing conversation with lots of questions so he was in a real hurry to get out of all that!

When I asked him why he wasn't saying anything, he was close to his own river of tears. He said that he was thinking about all that I was saying, so I decided to give him some space to figure it out.

Space, you may ask yourself? Yeah, I know it's quite funny, isn't it? He's had 8 years to "figure it out." Ha! He was just plain scared: just like he is scared to get caught, scared of ruining his image professionally, personally and especially spiritually. He needed time to figure out a carefully worded reply, just as he probably does every time when he has to explain to his wife or his family where's he's been after he has been with me. Yep--it's time to take a break, gather my thoughts and figure out another lie.

Did I mention that he is considers himself a devout Christian? He has been tormented by our love, but it really is convenient for him to use this when he remembers it. He's heavily involved in his church, serves in leadership positions and has actually thought of some form of ministry himself. Yet, he conveniently forgets or chooses to ignore all of this when he makes the decision to be with me.

Now if I press the issue of when he will leave his marriage, he conveniently uses his Christian faith as a reason that we should just "be friends." Now, it's not the usual "I can't leave my marriage because I'm Christian," kind of excuse you'd expect. Instead it goes like this: "In order to discover and know God's will for my life, I need to do right by God and our relationship as it is now cannot be right with God. So if we are friends, then I'll know God's will for my life. If God wants us to be together, it will happen."

In the past, I've found Scripture to show how God is a forgiving God, God is love, how love is the most important thing of all, etc. etc. etc. to fight back and make my counterpoint. I've even pointed out to him that he broke his marriage vows long before I came along. (I'm not the first 'other woman' in his life.) I don't even go there anymore. He believes what he believes, yet he sends mixed messages and lives mixed messages within himself everytime we are together.

But here's the rub: To suggest that we can still be friends (emotionally) as we are now, would also be cheating in God's eyes for many Christians. He doesn't see that as an issue, but I bet if you ask his wife, she would. And the salt on my wound is that if I agree to staying connected as "friends," I may never get over this man. He still has me emotionally, we still have each other emotionally and we run the risk that we'll be physically intimate again very soon because we will long for each other even more. And if I think about not only salt to my wound, but add a long daggar further into it by agreeing to be friends, I could be stuck for another 8 years. It may seem incredible to many to imagine how I would even think of staying that long, much less for another 8 years, but it's amazing how time flies when you're not paying attention to it.

So when he called me this morning, I forced the conversation, really wanting some sort of feedback on what he's thinking. (He was just going to call and avoid the conversation.) I decided that he'd had enough space ... What I got was the same old pattern: "I think it's best if we can just be friends. I don't want to hurt you and it's not fair to ask you to wait...."

Hence, my river of tears. It hurts. I'm disappointed. I'm afraid. I'm sad. I feel used. I feel frustrated. I feel disrespected. After eight years and all these promises, all you can give me is "let's be friends?"

So I know what I'm going through is normal for someone in my situation. And I guess by now you can read into my anger and sarcasm a bit. Yes, I love this man. Now I have to decide what I want. By the time I'm done, I'll probably have an ocean of tears.