The things that never were...

[boshemia]

I've never questioned the idea that you can love more than one person at any given time, because love has so many forms, so many faces, it is impossible for any of us to truly understand all of them. Whether I call someone a friend or a lover, my love is given with the same fierce all-or-nothing passion.

 

I want nothing more than for those I love to be happy, and I support them in this pursuit in any way I can. I would never intentionally do anything to harm someone I care for, but it isn't always easy to make the right decision, and even harder to convince yourself that the right decision has in fact been made.

 

I do not consider myself bi-sexual, or anything sexual, only human. I date men, I've married men, and I've lived my life loving only men. With one not so simple exception. I have one female friend that I can't really describe. Sometimes the line between friend and lover blurrs a bit, even fades away totally. Leaving you with someone you care deeply for, find yourself physically attracted to, but can do nothing about.

 

For seven years we have loved each other, she in her married life and I in mine. Both of our husbands were fully aware of the feelings we share, and resolved only to trust us to do the right thing. I made the choice not to betray my former spouse, or hers, because after seven years I care for him as well.

 

I told her that I will never, ever cross that line if for no other reason than it was the right thing to do. I would be unable to look myself in the mirror knowing that I intentionally ignored my own conscience.

 

Today she told me that her husband has encouraged her to explore the sexual feelings she has for me, only not with me. She has another friend that she has always said looks, and acts like me, but of course is not me. His only reasoning behind the decision is that she is not in love with the other girl as she is with me.

 

I almost lost the friendship once, and it nearly killed both of us. Not a day went by in those three years that we didn't think about each other. I have already thought about it at great length, and I'm not willing to risk the friendship we have for something as meaningless as sex. At the same time, after seven years, nothing, especially anything physical could be meaningless. If either of us ever acted on the feelings we have for each other we would surely lose our friendship, neither husband would ever trust us again, and so...

 

Here I sit, thinking about her being with someone else, pretending it is me, and I have my conscience to console me. Sometimes having a conscience hurts. I'm still not willing to ever do anything to lose the friendship we share, but sometime I have to wonder...

 

Which hurts worse, the loves we leave behind or the things that never were?

[Guest]

For me it would be things that never were. Because that's the story of my life. But I'm not the best example to go by I'm afraid.

[IfWishesWereHorses]

For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: "It might have been!"

from Maud Muller by John Greeleaf Whittier