It's a doozy!

So much to write... such a brief window of literate opportunity... I know how quickly the words can pass, for they form in mid-air as abstractions, un-thoughts, lived expressions, organic, and I struggle to transform them into coherent ideas, concepts and linguistics.

1) caught between two blogs. When blog posts form in my head, they are sparked from a germinating seed of an idea. Then creativity flows, and though I may have a particular topic in mind, Freeflow takes me whereever it should lead. I follow in gratitude. Lately, I've been experiencing difficulty in maintaining my separate voices in distinguishing between the me who writes, knowing my H, his friends, my friends, and various family members may read what it is I'm writing --- and the Anonyma me who writes purely for myself, along the lines of Anonymity, Adultery and Amorous Affairs... one thing leads to another, and I can't find where to break off. I can't mention the turmoil of Anonyma's life in my daytime blog, despite that very thing being the source of much inspiration. I can't mention most details discussed in my daytime blog in Anonyma Land, else, I'd stop being Anonyma. So it goes, and then I just don't write the post -- the germinated seed dies before it can even break through the fertile soil.

2) fantasy collides with reality -- M and continued drama. For a few days before I left for my holiday, I got the feeling that M was acting standoffish and rather distanced from me. I chalked it up to his being overly active in his son's sport affairs. I reasoned that perhaps he was somewhat sad to see me go. I hoped he was just distracted. Yesterday, after my first day back to work, he called me on my cell with a personal, somewhat embarrassing, "delicate" statement/question... without being uncouth, let's just leave it at the issue having to do with a medical concern. I controlled my urge to not get defensive/offended. After all, it's genuine concern. That's when things started making sense. So that's the reason behind the distance. That's why he stopped kissing me. Was he worried that I transmitted something? Or was he warning me of a possible transmission on his part? What a way to burst a perfectly round, squeaky, beautifully irridescent bubble! And mind you, we never even had sex! Lucky for me, no symptoms. But it does make we want to be even more cautious than I have been. And it makes me want to get another blood analysis. You can never be too safe, really. The phone conversation ended congenially, but abruptly. Today at work, I didn't know how to interact with him, so I didn't, basically. That's the benefit of having a paramour who you don't work with directly. When things hit a wall, it's easy to avoid one another. I don't think we'll avoid each other indefinitely -- I really want to talk with him, but I've always had to follow my instincts, and in this case, my instincts tell me to tread lightly. In fact, I did see him today, briefly. But there were always others around. In his eyes, I could tell he was pleading with me. The strange nature of our beast of a "relationship" has placed very wierd limitations on us... at least, I feel these limitations on me. For example, because neither of us wants anyone in the company to know anything about our trysts, there is a certain omen that hangs above us -- whenever we're together, even if for innocuous breaks or lunch, there's a sense of "what are they thinking? are they on to us?". So the concealing goes beyond our spouses, beyond our coworkers, it reaches to our selves. The holding back has begun. This is the end of freedom. At least for now. It's funny, when we first admitted our attractions to one another, he stated "it's in God's hands" in response to me questioning his Catholic virtues/guilt. I can't help but think of the irony here. Along M's path to sin (in his opinion), God has intervened many times (this being my interpretation of all the frustrated attempts to get together) saving him from himself, probably eventually putting him on the righteous path back to being a great husband and a wonderful daddy. Now all of this creates the circumstance for me to find personal freedom, not in sinning because I don't hold to Christian concepts of sin and the Sinner, but freedom in beauty, in creation, in expression of free flowing love and in the virtue of two people searching within each other, to connect, to learn something, and touch Something Other.

3) superman. H and I watched the new movie. Discussion ensued. Comparisons flew around the room like a flock of pigeons set loose in a studio apartment. He teased, half-joking, half-serious, that I am Lois Lane, and he is my safe, secure, loving, adoring husband -- unfortunately, not my superman. That superman stands for a freedom that lives beyond time, beyond convention, beyond civil mores of marriage. And how sad that makes him, to know that he is not my superman. That he is not that sense of freedom. Is he correct? Is it true? I suppose many who have been following my journey may see the posture as truth. That of course, this is the reason why I am doing what I am doing, for in the nature of the bonds of marriage, a certain freedom must be set aside, in love, in friendship, in respect, in the Embodied Relationship. That marriage and Freedom in Love must be mutually exclusive. At the time, my response probably didn't encourage any hopes in him that perhaps he actually is my superman. I was more realistic in my approach, rather than supportive. But having meditated on this for quite some time now, I feel that in many more ways than not, he is my Ultimate Freedom. That is, if it weren't for the man he is, I don't think I would be putting forth these efforts to exploring the types of freedoms I've taken. H may not be superman clad in blue, but I do believe he's more of a back-alley type of superhero -- a DareDevil kind of guy who has his superpowers silently charaded behind what seems to be a debilitating handicap.

4) I am (and always will be) seen as a woman, in my vocation. It's probably nigh impossible for me to just go after work and have some beer with the boys. Every man who is married is worried what the wife would think. Everyone who is single doesn't have the guts to ask a married woman out for a drink. (How improper!) Can it truly be that the first thing on each of these men's minds in regard to me is lascivious, and therefore detrimental to their marriages? So I'm not "one of the guys", my sex appeal is too strong. H says that to me all the time -- I could never befriend a coworker, because they really just want to get in my pants, no matter if they're married or not. My personal philosophy is that people should just have sex when they want it, between friends, between lovers, between whomever -- it doesn't get in the way. In fact, NOT having sex is what actually gets in the way. Left to the imagination, universes of fantasy and thereby fear, embarassment, loss of genuine truth, can create a huge divide. Once sex happens, if it's good, then great! Let it happen again, if you wish. If it's not so hot, then accept it and move on with the friendship. There doesn't have to be a problem here. If two people are sincerely honest in their desire for intimacy, even as "just friends", then a misled hop in the sack really shouldn't get in the way of anything.

5) He must have been dreaming about me too. My other coworker -- the one I dreamt about while on holiday -- gave me such a warm welcome back to work. With a great big smile, those bright shining blue eyes, and a surprisingly gentle hug, he greeted me. And I admit, I was delighted to see him too. Let's call him C. He's always been super friendly, as I mentioned earlier. But as time goes on, he's also getting more flirtatious, more playful, and more intimate. He's one of the few people I don't mind -- barely even notice -- how close he stands to me, within my personal circle, breaking the elbow-distance, no-go safety-comfort zone. It's not just a physical attraction that allows that barrier-crossing. It's something about intimacy. Oh yeah, did I mention he's married? Ooh, and I definitely forgot to mention that when I first started with this company, going crazy with sexual arousal, one of my very first fantasies at work involved me and M and C behind closed doors. It still gets me worked up when I think about it. Perhaps I'll write about that soon enough. (Coincidental sidenote: I never thought about this before... but the numbers are starting to add up... my H is balding -- the once-very-high-forehead steadily creeps higher; B has fully shaved his head for a number of years now; C also fully shaves his head, and rubs it often. Do I have a thing for bald men? I once read that genetically bald or balding men have statistically higher levels of testosterone in their system. Which means high sex drive, big ego=confidence, very competitive. Is it the confidence that allows these men to approach me, where others won't? Can I smell the testosterone as an aphrodisiac? Is it that I need and desire a worthy opponent? Hmmm.)