A Letter

Yesterday, M & I met and spoke at length and in the open for the first time. Questions were asked & answered. Fantasies were shared. Stories were told. It seems we keep reeling each other in and letting the line slack. I was shy. (Strange!) And the whole thing was marvelous. We were very open about ourselves, our histories, our perspectives. I came home, collapsed on my bed and fell asleep for the evening. All the anticipation is torturous, yet thrilling and so very exciting.

This morning, I discover that once he got home, he had a fight with the wife (sounding like a big one) and I've basically relegated myself to accepting that he may back out of this whole thing. Here is a letter which I've written and plan on giving him tomorrow at work:

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"It's 4:50pm and the sun is shining this Thursday evening. This letter is getting written because I feel so compelled to open myself to you, wide, wide open, and there seems to be very few options as to how to do that. As much as I hate putting anything in writing (for all the obvious reasons), I feel like I must. Time is precious, as we are both engaged in our own separate little worlds, never to intersect. Your ending up in the doghouse last night was very bad news indeed. There's so little I know about your marriage -- your wife, your peculiarities, your children -- all that familiar shit. All that STUFF that just happens over time between people, within families... what gets worked out and what gets ignored after long lengths of time. I don't know the problems you share with your wife, the husband/father/son/man that your close family knows, the so many facets of who you are. And so, I don't know how serious your arguments are and how fatal your mistakes are. I wish you could tell me that you have a very happy home, that you love your wife dearly, that you would do anything to make sure that the commitment you've made stays strong and intact. I wish that by being with me, you could love your wife more. And I wish that you could do all of this, guilt-free (as I do feel). Is it possible?

I should warn you of a couple of things. From my history, I've observed these things to be basically true: 1) sex with me can be addictive. 2) men tend to fall for me pretty hard and pretty fast. You can take those statements however you like. I may be saying that from an egotistical nature on my part. I may be warning you of impending disaster. I may be just stating the facts. Whatever the case, I'm putting it out there, on the table, just so you know.

In a situation such as this, uncertainty rules everything, doesn't it? It's partly the reason for all the excitement, and partly the cause of a pleasant kind of suffering. And here is where I stand on this: the freedom we feel by traveling this path we've chosen must be accompanied with the freedom to step off this path. If at any time you feel the riskiness has overtaken the enjoyment, then we must, in all good conscience, end the journey, or change directions. That's the thing about accepting the freedom that comes from uncertainty. Anything could happen, and it's that very challenge of allowing whatever might happen to just happen -- that on the one hand is so intoxicating, and on the other can be quite frightful.

I really do enjoy all the anticipation, and really do have very little expectations as far as what lies in our future. So many possibilities... good friends, fuck buddies, business partners, friends-with-benefits, just plain co-workers, political associates, or some combination thereof? I'm willing to try my hardest at being open to anything, even if it means that I must include the possibility of never seeing you or touching you ever again. (that's a terrible option -- worst case scenario)

As far as how you go about dealing with your life, your wife, and everything else that has nothing to do with me, I have only one bit of advice. Please, don't compare. It would never be fair -- for her, for me, or for yourself. The role I hope to fill is just one of sheer enjoyment & pleasure. I don't want to be your wife, your mother, or your sister (unless of course you'd like that, in a kinky kind of way). And in going along with all this honesty, let's try not make any empty promises to one another.

If the cards are still permitting, I'd still like to plan on our getaway. We could go Sunday, when I get back from my trip, take Monday off and enjoy the day together, as you envisioned. If that's not going to work out, for whatever reason, it's cool -- just let me know somehow so I can plan accordingly. (Here's an idea: you could call me from somewhere in the building so you don't have to come find me. Oh, and I'm going to cut back on lunching with you guys... as much as I love it, I have to keep my cover of being a social butterfly who lunches with the multitudes.)

By the way, all day, I have been replaying in my head, all sorts of images from yesterday, in addition to imagining all sorts of fantasies for the future. Whew. Good stuff.

When you've finished reading this letter, you should probably burn it, right? Yeah. Burn it. If you ever want to read it again, I can provide a copy."