And so it goes...

Hi!

I'm very apprehensive about your latest news. Please send the email to
this address as I'm no longer using my old one.

Hope you are well. Miss you.

Emyn

---

Hi.

I am so sorry that I have taken so long to get back to you.

Here is what I can tell you right now about how I am doing and what is going on. Last Friday, I brought up the subject of my wife and my relationship with her, because - as you know - I was seeing that she wasn't acting consistent with the discussion we had in April about moving to a platonic relationship. Then she asked me if I was having an affair with you and I said yes, thinking that she shouldn't/wouldn't really be very surprised given our conversations. She made it real clear that she had intended that to be an option we would explore over the next year, but that it was not our relationship now.

Well, essentially, Emyn, I completely blew up my life. The depth of betrayal my wife experienced was too profound for words. We are separating nearly immediately. I will probably be left to sell the house myself. Further, we had to explain this all to my two daughters who were badly and very, very badly affected respectively.

Close friends got involved, because my wife and I both needed a lot of help and because they knew something was very wrong.

Emyn, I have lost the respect and trust of my family and my closest friends. They love me, but see me as deeply flawed.

Here is the thing that I have come to realize: they are right. I realized this because I suddenly could see, as if through their eyes, how completely deluded I was about the compatibility of my two lives (Philippines/you and home). The fact that I could not see this and that I had so completely rationalized - constructed my own reality - was not at all like me in any way that any of these dear people had
ever seen in me before.

It was as if a veil was being lifted in successive layers as I came to grips in my horror and dismay with just how badly I hurt everyone. And, I have also had to come to grips with what would drive me to create such a rationalization.

Here is what I think happened on the surface: deprived of intimacy with my wife, I decided that I needed another outlet and that this was ok to keep secret because it was only superficial thing and wasn't really worth forcing a marriage crisis by bringing my needs out into the open with my wife.

Having bifurcated myself this far, it was easy to go further: because our relationship opened my eyes to the fact that I could show up in a more genuine way with a woman than I understood before, I had to accept that a lot of the intimacy problems in my marriage were actually my fault. I couldn't meet my wife's needs, therefore she had trouble with intimacy, therefore I was deprived of it, etc.

Still unable to look the dissolution of my marriage and family happiness square on I went further: I can get my wife to agree to live more as my sister or cousin than wife and carry on to the outside world as if nothing changed; I can have you in my life as a sexual partner and lover too. The fact that this was unrealistic never really occurred to me. I had disassociated my head from my gut in order to continue with this safe fantasy.

Only, I let my fantasy collide with my reality and sealed my fate. I have had to deal with the dissolution of all that I held dear. Only I have deeply hurt everyone I love and myself as well.

What have I learned? That I can bifurcate and create a believable reality when it comes to intimate relationship. That this reality is profoundly abusive to those I weave into it because they are not dealing with the real me but the one I want to or need to believe I am. That I have a core belief that will not tolerate making a choice in my relationships based on what I want, but only upon what I define as good (when there should be room for both)

Now what? I am entering therapy tomorrow. My wife is moving to the west coast ahead of me. My daughters are suspending judgment but have been very badly uncentered by this and don't trust me, so I have a lot of repair work to do. I need to get to the bottom of how and why I could be so bifurcated. I need to show up in newly authentic way with everyone, you included. There will be lots of processing of this for me, privately and with others as needed. You and I must have a very serious heart to heart conversation - I don't trust myself in the ones we have already had - about what we mean to each other, what reality we are constructing and what we really want and don't want. I feel that when I say "we" in this last sentence, it is mostly about "I" and that I need to be sure that I am not wrapping you up in any further delusions. I don't know where our relationship will go from here. Nothing is forbidden, but nothing is certain.

I hope you understand what I have been going through and how I have been forcefed through a passage of intense personal encounter (I wouldn't use the phrase growth, because I can't give myself that much credit yet). I hope this doesn't make you more apprehensive. It is actually good news because I truly think the way I have operated up till now is dangerous to those who love me. Now it will get better.

Be well, be centered, breath and know that I care about you very much,

CDS

---

I am so sorry about what has happened. I wish I could say that I am sorry for the time we spent together. I am not. I just want you to remember that what you had in your marriage was not "normal," since you seem to be considering your reaction to it as abnormal.

You talk about ruining the trust you had with your family and seem to have forgotten about what brought you into my life in the first place. Note that when we first met, you weren't "in my life" as yet. It was when we started our foray into a serious relationship that you entered into it.

What I can understand so far is that you seem to be blaming yourself for what has happened in the past few days as if the whole thing was never rooted in anything in the past, that it was all your fault. the fat that your wife refused to have sexual relations, at least on the level of what everyday people have, with you and she is surprised -- and hurt -- that you should look for it somewhere else and, most of all, keep things secret, is -- well, what can I say.

It's not making sense at the moment. I feel very aggravated and scared. I don't want to deal with this at the moment. Let's not discuss things any further. You should not think about me for the meantime. It's very apparent that the shock of it all, your family's reaction to the whole thing, has dislodged you from your center. Although we both knew that things could not be easy, this was certainly very disturbing for you.

The whole world does not revolve around you, you know. You don't determine the "fate" of those you love and those you touch. We make our own decisions on how to act and what to do. It's our decisions that determine the course of the events in our life, not you. Your family's pains and sorrows are not of your exclusive making. Your wife had a hand in it as well.

And I'll be damned if your collective convoluted thinking will cause me pain and frustation.

I'd much rather we talk face to face. I don't want to exchange emails for the time being. I'll be working on the interviews and will finish in time for mid-August.

Emyn

---

Well said, Emyn. I am uncentered enough that I don't capture everything I feel in any one communication and so I may have given some misimpressions. But all your points are well taken, especially the part about convoluted thinking and me not being the center of everyone's universe.

One thing I do know is that bear no responsibility for my situation and have also been hurt by it. I am sorry for my part and I very much want to talk in person about it.

Would you be open to a phone call?

Thanks for continuing on with the project; it means a lot to me that you are doing that.

As an additional thought, please know that I will not embroil you further in my family stuff. I want us to deal with our stuff, whatever it is, and in whatever way works for you as much as I can. I know I am a bit of a mess right now and I am not sure I am making complete sense and in a way that is kind to you.

Please know I am sorry for causing you pain and that I prize what we experience together.

Be well,

CDS

---

Yes, please call, but not now. I think you should give yourself some time before we talk. Let's give ourselves a month.

And I should not have sent that email, especially since things have just started to -- unravel? That would be unkind. No, things are just started to show up after all these years. I believe that you were right when you said that it will be better now. And I shouldn't say things when I'm angry. I'm very, very sorry.

I am very angry that you are hurt and that your family is hurt. I'm not angry at any one person in particular. I do love one person in particular and that's you.

Whatever it is that you decide you want in your life, I'm very happy that you and I got to spend some time together.

For whatever it's worth, you've taught me so much about many things, including myself, and for that, I will always be grateful. You started a new chapter in my life, a very significant one. You touched my life in a very meaningful way. How many people can lay claim to that?

I'll be thinking about you and loving you always.

Emyn

---

Thank you so much. A month it is then. Then we will talk.

And, you have taught me much and given much too, you know.

Love,

CDS

The thrill of laughter

I've always wondered why I get so thrilled when I make people laugh. Not a group of people, though. I mean one particular person. And the more I'm attracted to that person, the more thrilled I am.

I'm not talking about excitement, either.

Thrill. n. A chilling sensation down your spine; a feeling of weakness in your knees; a fast knot in your stomach the size of a football.

That sort of feeling.

I love making Freddie laugh. His is a quiet laugh, the sort that escapes the restraints that hold all emotions back. He just has to appear so in control of himself, of everything around him, such that when he finally laughs, it's such a surprise to hear it.

I feel this warm rush of joy washing over me when he laughs at whatever it is that I happen to blurt out. Always, it's an innocuous statement, an unexpected conclusion, a curious question. When he laughs, it feels like he just wants to scoop me into his arms and give me a loving hug.

I love it when he laughs because it's me and he can't help himself.

Anchor away

Cliff is on his way home. He called me at 7 a.m. to say goodbye. Very sweet.

Funny how I found my anchor. Funny what kind of anchor I found, too: a moving one. My biggest fear is that I lose Cliff. I fear the day when he finally won't come back anymore. Although he says he will and that his prospects for business here is very good, I can't lose the feeling of dread.

Cliff is married, with grown kids. We met online through a personals site. (I pour my heart out online, so why shouldn't I date online? Or is my logic skewed?) He started to look into online dating because after 15 years of begging for sex from his wife, he'd just had enough. So he thought of hooking up with someone in the country where he was headed.

To make a long story short, we started seeing each other whenever he was in town. I'd spend weekends with him and, after 18 months of this, we finally admitted to each other that we were more than just friends with benefits.

So there.

Now, we're giving things 12 months to sort themselves out. Like his marriage. He finally confronted his wife with the fact that, although he still loves her and will always love her, his sexual desire for her has gone out the window. He has promised her that he will never divorce her, will never leave and abandon her, and will always be her best friend.

According to Cliff, his wife received all this calmly, not surprised at all with how things have turned out. In fact, she seemed relieved that she was no longer obliged to have sex with her husband. This is a very Catholic woman, suffering from the usual notions of how a wife is supposed to sacrifice everything for her husband and children. You know, the martyr syndrome.

Cliff is not sure whether his wife has really understood the implications of this new paradigm. He has not divulged to his family his relationship with me. His kids know that something is wrong between mom and dad but they have not brought this up with either of them. I agree with Cliff when he says the time is not yet ripe for them to know about his relationship with me.

His wife knows that I am someone whom Cliff hires to assist him in his projects in the Philippines, and I am that. We have started a professional relationship with me doing report writing and content analysis for him. The story is that one of CLiff's contacts here referred me to him.

Some months ago, Cliff and I spent the weekend out of town. He informed his wife about it and that I would be going with him. His wife took it all in stride. This was before they discussed the new structure of their marriage. Two weekends ago, he again told his wife that he would be spending the weekend out of town and I would be coming along.

This time, his wife went very quiet over the phone and said, "You're dating, aren't you? I know you're dating."

I asked Cliff what he said to that; he said he just sighed very deeply and told her this was something they should talk about when he got back.

I know how it looks like. This could very easily be a case where the guy's just leading the girl on. A couple of years ago, I'd have just dismissed Cliff as another one of those guys who's living a fantasy, a lie; someone who's jazzing up his otherwise boring life. After all, it's so easy to lie when you're thousands of miles away from home, alone in a strange country where everyone's a stranger. That was then.

I'm so tired of suspecting everyone of bad faith. All these years, I've locked nyself in, sheltering myself from the wild world, thinking that maybe if I stay in here long enough, I'll learn to not need the world. Four years ago, I gave it up; there is simply no way I was going to unlearn genetic memory. I am a victim of evolution.

Four years and I'm still learning how to deal with how I deal with the world. Until I met Cliff and learned more about myself. Seems like my emotional aspect is so underdeveloped, I might as well consider it imbecilic. I'm such a thinking person that when Cliff gave me an MBTI test, I came out thinking = 100%, feeling = zilch. Scary.

So now, I'm taking the big leap, the leap of faith. I believe and I trust. (Not blindly, of course. I may be emotionally stunted but I'm no idiot. It's all in the balance.)

And should Cliff turn out to be an asswipe, I'll simply move on to the next big adventure and keep all the wonderful memories for my old age, warts and all.

Shall we play?

Cliff was here for almost an entire month this time. I got to spend three whole weekends in a row with him. He leaves for home tomorrow and I can't stop thinking of that kiss he gave me on Monday morning as we said our goodbyes.

We'd taken a cab and I'd suggested that he take the front seat. Off the bat, I just thought that it would be easier for him to get out, as I didn't like sitting behind the driver when in the backseat. It wouldn'thave been such a big deal but I made the suggestion, he took it with a mild look of surprise on his face, and I got in the cab feeling a bit confused. It was only later that I realized that I was preparing myself for goodbye.

When I dropped him off, he got out and very deliberately opened the rear passenger door. He gave me a small kiss on the mouth and I surprised myself by just offering my face up to him for another kiss, which he gave. We said our goodbyes in voices pinched with pain.

I want to believe that I love this man, although there is very little romance in him. He's not very romantic -- unlike Freddie.

And that's where the problem lies. The first time Freddie and I laid eyes on one another, we just wanted to fuck each other. The sexual tension was that strong. Reminds me of Alanis Morissette's line:

"It's finding the love of your life/And meeting his beautfiul wife."

She did change "wife" to "husband" in a later album, though, for a more ironic twist, which she delivered after a wonderful pregnant pause. In any case, Freddie is just plain romantic. And what a flirt. He loves to flirt. But not with everyone. He picks the people he flirts with.

Freddie knows how to make a woman feel special. Cliff doesn't make me feel as special as Freddie does. So now, everytime Cliff and I make love, I can't help but imagine how it must feel having Freddie groaning and thrusting away at me instead. It gets me really excited thinking of Freddie, although it also gets me excited hearing Cliff moaning and groaning while I rock my pelvis back and forth, squeezing his cock tight in my pussy. I love the feel of cock sliding in and out of me like that and the more I do it with Cliff, the more I want to do it to Freddie.

I just want to straddle Freddie and ride on his cock long and hard. Myles thinks that the first time Freddie and I fuck, he'll explode within seconds of penetration. That's right. I haven't had Freddie. I don't think I ever will. He's just so damn religious, he's trapped in this paradigm of love everlasting, of eternal union between husband and wife. I don't want him as a husband; I just want to play.

I guess he's never heard of friends with benefits.

So do I love Cliff? I do. It's the kind of love that grows with time. And outlasts time. I don't want to trust this attraction to Freddie. It's so superficial. And the more I get to know stuff about Freddie (which isn't a big body of knowledge, really), the less I trust the attraction. I get this sneaky feeling that, once again, I'm falling for an image that I've drawn up in my head about the man, not the man himself.

For all of Freddie's charm and sex appeal, he's still the conservative, traditionalist Pinoy guy who wants his women just the way mom pictured it for him. And that is definitely not me. At least, with Cliff, I have the freedom to re-invent myself as often as I want.

It is, however, so thrilling that Freddie knows I'm not mom's ideal girl and he himself is thrilled by the fact that I am precisely that! He wants to be a bad boy and go for the bad girl. Oooh! That is soooo hot!

Like I said, I just want to play.

Update: Carl

I seem to be having this problem: I don't know if I love someone or not. I just can't recognize the feeling.

I was reviewing my posts and discovered that I never did update this journal about Carl. It didn't work out quite the way I wanted it to. (Then again, what does?) To make a long story short, stay apart, grow apart. When I met Carl in 2004, he had just separated from his wife. Eighteen months later, he'd relocated, bought property, and was building a house for himself. He'd started a life -- alone -- and he realized he didn't need anyone in that new life. He was having fun being independent.

Nothing wrong in that. Been living my life that way all these years. He did wrong when he failed to tell me that his plans had changed and he didn't want a serious relationship anymore.

Oh well.

So, on to the next guy. Turns out Cliff wants to have a go at a serious relationship. Okay. Let's give it a try. What we have is an interesting set-up, but that belongs to another post.

Ghosts

I never really gave it much thought, but I realize now that I was deeply saddened when my dad, with his other siblings, decided to sell the property which they inherited from their parents. This was where they grew up in, and where my siblings and I were born.

Several houses where built on that property in succession, which is not surprising given the number of years that saw my dad's family grow. And so, everytime I get to pass the house where I grew up in, I feel this pang -- of guilt, of sadness, of the pain of separation. And I somehow picture all these ghosts of my childhood walking around in that house.

Somehow, I feel the ghost of my ten-year-old self running up and down the length of that driveway, fighting sharks and pirates, or exploring dark, cavernous tunnels. Or just standing there, keeping very still, waiting for my parents to come home from work.

From the street outside, I could still see the window of my room. It looked down onto the street and I can imagine this little face peering out from that window, studying the silent darkness of midnight and the yellow circle of light from the old lamp post. But I see that the posts are now of the concrete kind: tall and over-burdened with criss-crossing wires.

There are ghosts in that house, and they will haunt every room until the walls that protect them from forgetfulness stand.