a visit from the grave

I met a girl last weekend, with whom our shared energy was ultimately inspiring. Talking to her reminded me of forgotten ideals, and of some life in one of those alternate realities that could have taken place in my life, but for other unforseen decisions, I'm here. And here, I was reminded of That, Out There. She was sexy, in the kind of way that I admire; humble, quiet, full of mysteries, great sense of humor. I found myself attracted to her, but in a whole-person kind of way. As in, I wanted to talk to her more. I wanted the rest of the company to keep receding into the background, just so that we could continue our remarkable conversations together. We vibed. That's a nice feeling.

In my mind, I felt as though I had to confront these feelings welling up. Attraction to her person. Attraction to her body? Am I attracted sexually to her? Why can't I just feel comfortable with this part of who I am? The love I share with my husband exists in a realm beyond any relationship I could possibly ever have with another being. But does that mean I must forsake all new possibilities of meaningful relationships outside of my primary one? A part of me wanted desparately to simply lust after this new friend. But at the same time, I could feel that I would have been forcing it. I would be doing it because that would be the only form of acceptable wandering, with my H's approval.

When I joke about being sexually attracted to another woman, he gallantly says, I know, I know. You really want to go off and mess around with another chic, don't you? It's with a smile, a giggle, a nudge-nudge. If I joke about being attracted to another man, it's suddenly time to stop playing, that's not funny, don't even joke like that. His insecurity will keep me close far longer than he could ever imagine possible.

Why can't my reassurances to him result in a stronger sense of self-esteem in him? Why isn't our mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex reinforcement to him that I would never leave him for sexual reasons? Why isn't my dedication and deep loyalty to our love and our life that we share together communicated well enough for him to let go of the insecurity, enough to give me the freedom that he knows I desire? I am coming to realize, I would never ask for it.

Of course not. That would be inviting him the opportunity to say no. And then my disappointment would be made public between us, and I would have absolutely zero control over my choices. I would be creating a path for welled up resentment. And it would inject distrust. He would be questioning my every move, my every silence, my every grimace and bout of blues. He would second-guess even more about the validity of my love, and the depth of my commitment. Of course I could never ask for it. I could only ever accept it as a gift, and it is a gift that must be freely given.

In the meanwhile, I'll continue to steal it where or when I can. The news is, I will be visiting BeautyEyes in his city next weekend. I have half a mind to tell him we should be friends, since my marriage apparently bothers him so very much. But hearing the excitement in his voice when I called him makes me wonder what it is he really wants. Are his morals so strong as to complicate something that could just be simple and beautiful? Perhaps. I shall find out in a week and a half.