I hope this letter finds you well. I cannot help but wonder how many of you watched this situation occur, watched your leadership seperate Ruth-Anne and I, and wondered why it was happening. I know I certainly wondered what was happening. I wonder, as my wife lives in terror of her husband, step-children, and her own biological parents I wonder just how many of you really go along believing what is said. I have no doubt you sit there in your meetings, shaking your heads, without the courage to say what's right. Do you realize that you yourself are culpable for what is happening?

You can have no doubt now that AMF is way, way, way off track. Your leadership is defending divorce - implying that the Lord is leading away from His own Word. Can you seriously believe that is the case? Can you seriously believe that because I am willing to speak the truth I should lose my wife? Come to think of it, why does the truth scare Bill, Ardith, and yes, Ruth-Anne too? What is it that causes fear in their hearts? Clearly Ruth-Anne is terrified of me and Devin. Why?

Are you aware that Devin is on trial here? Do you know that by agreement my visits are not supervised any more? Do you know why? BECAUSE THERE IS NO REASON FOR THEM TO BE AND THERE NEVER WAS. But now that it's become apparent that there is absolutely no reason for me to have to be supervised with my own son, AMF's next best is to put Devin on trial? Have you heard of anything so disgusting as that?

How can you validate the continued support of leadership that is advocating things completely and totally against the Word? They are in control because you allow them to be. I know that your not all brainwashed by what is going on. Some of you are around real, solid Christians all day long. Is it your own marriages your in fear of?

I hope the very best for you but I fear the very worst. You act as though your lemmings, jumping off the cliff in a "soldiers" marching step. It is my sincere hope that you all regain your consciences before it's too late for you. Before you go through all the heart-ache that I, my family, my children, Ruth-Anne's parents, siblings, and friends, past Anchor members, ex spouses, and torn children have been through, thanks to your heartless heretic leadership.

Beware the wolves in sheep's clothing. They will eat you up and spit you out just as they have done to three boys, aged 12, 4, and 2.

Respectfully,

Brian

If your husband, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, significant other were going to cheat, would it be worse if they cheated with your absolute best friend or your absolute worst enemy?

In an exclusive interview with Bill Clinton in People Magazine, he's asked would Chelsea ever consider a career in politics? This leaves some interesting prospects for the future. A Clinton dynasty? Well it's got to be better than the one the Bush's have handed us. Clinton had an interesting answer.  "Before Iowa, I would have said, 'No way. She is too allergic to anything we do.' But she is really good at it. It all changed after Iowa. She realized her mother lost Iowa 100 percent because of younger voters. She was upset, bawled, went to her employer and said, 'Look, you got to let me go or give me an indefinite leave of absence. I'm not letting my mother go down like this.'" It appears that Chelsea has some of her mother's tenacity and getting her mother's back gets her big time points. Chelsea has been a continuing presence in Hillary's campaign and has been dealing with some tough questions on some tough issues. In the People interview, Clinton called his daughter's "emergence" the "second best thing" of the campaign, after his wife's resiliency. The former President also made a comment about a press bias against Hillary. "I think most of the press people are in Obama's demographic. They need a feeling more than they perceive they need a President. There have been times when I thought I was literally lost in a fun house."  I'm not so sure he's correct there, but he does go on to say about Obama, "I don't know him very well. But, I do think it's better to have made a lot of decisions before you get to be President." This People interview is definately worth a read and it hits newstands today. Could Chelsea get a taste for politics? Could we be seeing the continuation of the Clinton influence on American politics for the future? It sounds awfully Kennedy to me.

NEW CAR DEAL - GUN OR GAS?

At a new car dealership in Butler, Missouri they are offering a bang-up special deal. You can put $250 to either get a new handgun or gas with any purchase through the end of the month. General Manager, Walter Moore of Max Motors says most people are opting for the handgun. He recommends the semi-automatic model because it holds more rounds.  That doesn't surprise me, with the handgun you can get your gas for free. Moore says, "Down here, we all believe in God, guts and guns." Well, this IS the state that gave us Frank and Jesse James.

GERMAN GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS LOCKED UP BY ACCIDENT

A group of German officials were locked away in a jail previously run by the East German Stasi, the former secret police. Thinking all visitors had left, staff closed up the memorial museum that was the Stasi's main jail, and shut the high-ranking representatives from Germany's 16 states inside. I bet that brought on some unintentional enlightenment. "It was a misunderstanding," said Siegfried Reiprich, deputy director of the complex in eastern Berlin, on Wednesday. I'm sure he was hoping that he wouldn't be fired over the mixup. Realizing they were trapped, the group called the federal Chancellery late on Tuesday and urgently requested to be let out.  About half an hour later the officials were freed from the complex where political opponents of the East German regime were once interrogated by their captors. I wish some of our politicians would "accidentally" get locked away. Then just don't answer the phone. Anybody up for a trip to Alcatraz?

 BRITISH MAN HAS BARE BUTT POSTERED AROUND TOWN

 Pasha Cummings of Seaford, England is the latest victim of the fury of a woman scorned. According to his recently exited wife, Carol, he had been cheating on her and she decided to get even. She had 200 posters of him printed and then posted all over town on lampposts, bus stops, and walls that shows him and his bare butt posing at a barbeque. I have to admit, that would be something that should come under a blight law. Beneath the 'glamour shot', the posters read: 'Pasha Cummings: lying, cheating, two-timing arse! Sandra Beckworth is no better.' Sandra is apparently the "other" woman. Carol exited the country for Cyprus immediately upon distribution of the controversial poster. People have come up with the most creative ways to slander each other lately. Youtube, Ebay, now this. They're certainly being creative. What ever happened to keeping your dirty laundry behind closed doors.

MAN CLAIMS SEX WITH 1000 CARS

Never buy a used car from this man, "used" being the operative word here. Edward Smith has a sexual attraction for mechanical vehicles. I guess they wouldn't complain if you're not very good. Smith, 57, says he first had sex with a car at the age of 15 and has banged out the fenders of more than 1000. He claims he has never been attracted to women or men and cars are just his preference. OK, something went seriously wrong here. I've heard of having a passion for your cars but, this is a bit over the top. They even have a name for this: mechaphilia. He is now part of a global community of more than 500 “car lovers” brought together through the Internet. Smith, who now lives with his current "girlfriend," a white Volkswagen Beetle named Vanilla, said he has no desire to change his ways. Of course not, all his desire is aimed at this poor VW's fender. “I'm not sick,” he said, “And I don't want to hurt anyone.” That, may be a matter of opinion. If the car doesn't start, does that mean no? Does he consider Herbie the Love Bug porn? This guy would be a riot at a NASCAR rally.

 LET'S GO TO THE VIDEO TAPE:

In this vain I believe tht this weblog is much better than the alternatives I had contemplated these past few months. This weblog is not intended to "Pay Him Back", but the things I began were.

The first sign of deception was pop ups from porn sites, and the computer catching all kinds of viruses. Then, there were the late into the night visits to the computer because "He could not sleep." so, one morning after he left for work I accessed his side of the computer, and sure enough, Porn site 1, porn site2, porn site 3, etc. well, I resoned to myself, that's not all THAT bad. I mean, some of the things I saw him viewing looked quite interesting, and well, I'm not a prude! I wasn't very angry, so he liked a little striptease dancing. We've done it before, I'll just give it to him that way more often.

But then one night after what I thought was a glorious bout of lovemaking, {from his intensity, it was assumed to be a valid thought that he too was more than satisfied}, He climbs out of bed and heads straight to the office and computer. In the morning, I found out htat he went directly to the porn site! You mean I was not enough for him?!!! Even after what we did last night!!!!!

So I began to cruise the porn sites myself, "I hope that he finds out!" How will HE feel, when he sees that I am being turned on by other men? But it didn't make me feel any better. Perhaps, because I would delete my visits so that when mychildren used the computer they would not see where I had been. He never had to worry about tht on his side because the kids never went on his side. It has always been understood that his side was only accessible to him, even if he did not have a password. So when, I found out tht he visited one site regularly, I decided to become a member and aposter to this site. I went so far as to create an alias, and submit homemade videos and self portraits! They were posted for apx. 1 minute before I threw up and deleted my account and any evidence that I had even enrolled.

After, I found out that he was involved with another relationship, I began to look up old boyfriends. Men I hadn't seen in over 15 years, and had no idea if they were even still alive. Did not get too far with that one neither. Felt like I was betraying myself.

I went on chat lines, just as an observer, never crossed over into anything other than that, but I was tempted.

You see, it did not matter to me that he had hurt me. It did not matter that I hated him. Somehow, somewhere, even if it was buried deep down below the ruins of my crushed heart, I knew that I still loved him.

Pathetic huh?

You see, our intimacy fiasco did not actually begin AFTER I found out that he was having an affair, it began years before. I am the type of female that loves to snuggle with her partner both in private and in public. I am not saying that I want to grope my husband while standing in the check out line at the grocery store, but there were times when standing there, looking at him, I desired to go up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and inhale his scent. His scent is such an aphrodisiac for me, that there are times when after everyone has left for school and he for work, that I will just lie down on his side of the bed and inhale the scent of him that he left behind.

Well, my husband, after we had been married for a few years, seemed to become embarrassed at such a display of affection. It even extends to when we are at home. It seemed to be okay for him to come up to me while I am in the kitchen, washing dishes or preparing a meal, and to set me on the sink and try to undress me, right in front of the kitchen window, no less. But if I came up to him and fondled him while he was in the living room reaching for a book off of the bookshelf, he would push me away with an "We're in the LIVING ROOM!" I don't understand what difference the living room windows and the kitchen windows make, only that one is an objection from me and the other from him.

Okay, as I said, I am an affectionate woman, I love to kiss, and just because I kiss you, does not mean that I am ready to, at that precise moment, tear your clothes off and ravage you. But, it can mean that "Tonight baby, we are going to explode!" For me it is a very necessary form of foreplay. But it hasn't been the type that my husband wishes to indulge in, and I have been pushed away from him on numerous occasions when I have approached him this way.  He seems to only want the foreplay to occur in the bed.

I say that, because of the rejections I have recieved over the years, and the finding out about the extra-marital affair he had, I too share in this problem. Now, when a sexual encounter might be initiated, I do not give myself freely to him. I tense up out of fear of being rejected. I envision his relationship with "the other woman", and my heart seems to become a massive stone within me. In my mind I want to give unto my husband unashamedly, but I feel unclean. When I am at home all day, and I long for his touch, I approach him with fear, and  with a "knowledge", that either, he will not want my touch or that he will get his enjoyment or release, and I will be here in this continual state of heightened sexual frustration!

My mental outlook as to what I will encounter during our love making, or the rejections I have faced could very well, be the reason that I have not achieved an orgasm with my husband, and that is why I can say...

"I share a part in this problem too."

For months now Kibben and I have been living together in a quaint one bedroom apartment in Columbus Circle with baggage big enough for a four story townhouse in the West Village. With it's rollercoaster-if-it's-not-one-thing-it's-another structure, I found it not only exhausting to live through, but exhausting to write (as I'm sure exhausting to read as well!) In any case, Kibben and I have managed to coexist without either one moving out, breaking dishes, or changing locks on the other- although the thought has come to mind.

Among many of our fights, the subject of concealment. In my case for the last 8 months I've managed to make my home completely sterile of any medication or artifact suggesting that someone in the residence is sick. It not only makes it easier for me to handle mentally, knowing that I'm not surrounded by it all the time, but easier for him as it isn't overwhelming on him. That was my mindset. He doesn't see it that way. He sees it as me hiding things from him, which leads to him thinking that if I'm hiding that then there's some sort of secret behind it. At the beginning, he was too busy and overwhelmed to visit the doctors with me, and I now have a rather strong support system based on my friends which I lean on. He's now asking for validation that I'm sick; ie: visiting the hospital with me, talking to my doctors, etc. I can gladly provide that which I have been doing gradually lately, however now I'm so used to managing without him, that to jump right in with everything would not only overwhelm him even more, but completely break me down. I want to let him in on things, however it needs to be on my own terms and time. What I'm most afraid of is that I'll let him in as before, and he'll not even notice or do anything about it. I fear that it's just for his validation that he's inquiring, and not because he's actually able to take care of me...

     ...And that's exactly what I told his Upper Westside therapist last week as I was sitting in her uncomfortable leather chair. Among other people, he's told his therapist his doubts and concerns about us which prompted my appearance in her office. Most would think it odd to visit a boyfriend's therapist to talk about them, however most people would think it odd to come home and find your boyfriend rummaging through your finances looking for doctor's bills. For months I've heard how lovely she, the therapist, was and how nurturing her character is so I went open minded with the goal of helping my relationship. From the first phone call confirming a scheduled appointment, she was harsh and cold. As open minded as I had made up my open mind to be, I began to feel like a lamb being lead to the slaughter. Hours leading up to the appointment I could feel my stomach tossing, but would as quickly dismiss it thinking that this was going to be a positive 45 minutes talking to someone who would understand both his and my side and help us both towards a resolution. The therapist has known about me from the very beginning of the affair. She's heard Kibben's mental battles between staying with his wife and seeing me, our highs and lows, etc. from his perspective. After leaving my new job and hailing a cab up Central Park West, I arrived to the beautiful lobby and was sent up 9 floors into a small waiting area. After a snip greeting from her I was escorted into her office and no sooner from when I sat down did the questions start firing: "why aren't you letting him in?", "why aren't you helping him?", "why are you putting him through this?" As soon as I would say a thought, she'd hammer another question. I was taken aback by the fact that in no part of the time spent with her did she ask me to tell her a little about myself, or how I felt about all of this. At one point she asked about my health, yet in such a raping way, I started to cry. I cried walking back home along the park- I had never in my life felt more like a mistress than with his therapist. Kibben called while I was walking to ask where I was. He walked up Central Park West and met me before his session with the therapist. Upon questioning my tears and my response of how unpleasant it was, all he did was nod.

When someone is warned about having an affair, the cliche lines goes something like "when you sleep with a married man, you're sleeping with his wife as well." Well, if that's the case, I would go so far as to say I'm sleeping with Kibben's entire family. With the divorce proceedings trudging through, his family, who were so gracious towards me in the beginning, are now suspicious and standoff-ish towards me. I was always told of what a horrible person his soon to be ex was to his family. His sister told me stories once of feeling unwanted around Kibben and the ex, and his mother would recount nasty comments she's said to them. Taking that into consideration, it's understandable they would be hesitant toward another of Kibben's ladies thinking that history will repeat itself, however, why would they begin to act this way towards me now? I'm not alone in this scenario of women who were welcomed in to a family, but were soon in arms length once the man confided with a family member his intent on marrying her. Suddenly everything gets awkward. I can't help but take it personally. The one or two lined e-mails that come in weeks late to respond to something you send them. And they only all come together to gather when Kibben has visitation with his son, never with just he and I. They say they don't want to intrude. Great. I don't want them to, but I would like to have some sort of bond with them if Kibben and I decide to marry.

When the days are good; they're great. When the days are bad; they're miserable.

***

Darling Jane snapped me out of my yet-another-blogging-funk state-of-mind.  Since my last post, I have been travelling a bit including a 15-day cruise to the Hawai'ian Islands (I'm sure I did the "'" wrong, but what the heck, I'm trying), a beautiful weekend in Yosemite and lots of fun stuff with the boys and their band/sports performances. 

***

I have been experimenting with hubby's Cannon and trying to put together a couple of special photographic packages for two of my friends who have been undergoing chemotherapy.  I fear I have been a bit unfaithful, in a blogging sense, as I have been visiting Flickr quite a bit just posting for family and friends.  Speaking of which, this site has always been considered a place for my blogging family.

***

Here's a couple fo experimental pics.  If interested, you are welcome to visit the Flickr site at:

(Best view by a "set" to save time)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/janicemc/

***

MY RUNNING MAN

***

A POPPY BIRTH

***

Be forewarned, I have way too many photos... I am in the process of deleting the majority of them as being a  too mundane and/or just plain inferior.  I am studying, researching, and practicing when I can in an effort to improve on all levels.  

I miss everyone and send much love.  I love this community and the brilliant bloggers in it.  FTL, jen

If he would have ended all contact with her the night he found out that I knew about his secret, and had not just cried and pleaded for forgiveness. Then perhaps I could trust him. Even if he had ended things the second time I found out he was still in contact with her. But now, after the third time, do I trust him? Of course not. But do I love him?

Yeah, I still love him....

Carlal

"What now?" seem to be the question I have on my mind each morning that I awake. It all started in January of this year, and day after day something else has happened that makes me want to throw my hands up and just give in. But, I can't. I have my children depending on me.

It all started to become clearer one morning late in January as I was looking for a job on the state employment website. My husband told me that he had seen several positions which might interest me as he was searching for a job himself. So after the children were off to school, I accessed his side of the computer to view the jobs he had saved for me to look at.  I then noticed that he had extensive visits to a mailbox which I did not know he even had.

There had been some behavior that had led me to believe that things were not quite kosher with him, so I did not mention this finding to him. Nevertheless, I could not access his link to the employment site. Being that we have eight children, I put my efforts into keeping house for my family, and let the job search go for a few days. Then several days later, my husband left his wallet at home and I found the business card with his access info on it. The unusualness of the username and password made me curious, so I went to the internet site I had found out that he had an email account with and used the exact same codes..... His secret was revealed!

 For over two years he had been having a relationship with some other woman! My world fell apart. Why? Why would he do this? What was wrong with me that he needed to share his life with someone else?

You can imagine that since then, things have been pretty volitile in our house.

We have been married for ten years, but our relationship is almost at its twentieth anniversary.  My husband is eight years my senior, but that never seemed to matter.

After our fourth child together, we decided to get married.  I knew that we had rough spots, but what relationship doesn't? Yet, I had never been unfaithful to him. Not even by flirting with another male.  Our sex life was great, or so I thought. But for him, it just was not enough. He blames it on our inability to communicate effectively. He says that I make him feel awkwardly shy. This I cannot understand, because my husband is a very intelectual person, much more so than I, and if you asked me quite handsome. At any rate, a breach in my trust for him has developed to a point that even the one area in which we never had any problems before, is no longer satisfying for me.

I love him very much, yet, my sense of betrayal is so overwhelming that I am not sure how much I LIKE him. and because of that, it seems as if every part of our relationship is coming undone.

I believe that marriage is a bond for life, save for the ground of fornication {such as is the case here},yet even so, I am bound to him until death, so that I may not marry another, unless he dies. I do not wish for his death, I want long lives for the both of us.  But I wish for us to have a strong happy life together. But is it possible for us to overcome this breach of trust?

Is there survival after infedelity?

carlal

So why does it plunge me into such a state of utter despair to bear witness to the infidelity of others?

Because I still have a little bit of hope, that's why. As jaded, hateful, and bitter as I am, there's still a little tiny part of me that believes in the traditional family unit, wants the traditional family unit. There's a part of me that dreams about finding a nice, decent, hard-working, down-to-earth, blue collar guy who thinks the sun rises and sets on me; of finding a man who sees me as the most beautiful woman in the world, and the woman he wants to mother his future children. There's a part of me that cries sometimes, lamenting the loss of the sacred union and a love that weathers storms and the put-yourself-first mentality society promotes. There's also a part that hates myself, really and truly hates myself, for the life I've made.

I hate you, husband who "works late"; I hate you, housewife with the "personal trainer"; I hate you, unhappily married man or woman, who thinks your time is better spent fulfilling your own desires then working on repairing and stabilizing the relationship, the commitment you've already made; I hate you so much it makes me angry, angry and sick to the point of vomiting.

But I hate myself even more.

Laying there on the sofa with Emily, it did not occur to me that Jennifer would be home soon. The fact that she would have already picked Hunter up from preschool and been on her way home as I lay naked next to another woman did not cross my mind. Emily was the only thing in that moment, and the feelings of familiarity that were rushing over me preventing rationality from playing a part in what we had done. I was not thinking about my marriage, or my son, or the life I had built out of the ashes of Emily's exit from my life and from my plans. I was holding the only woman I had ever loved, and it felt so right. It felt like fate and I whispered in her ear with out thinking of the circumstances which amounted to complete wrongness.

“I love you,” it felt so honest and freeing to say it after all this time of pretending, of forced contentedness in a situation that I had no control over. I was not prepared for her break down, but I wish that I could have been.

Love is a heavy thing, and it was mine to hold, I wish I had not dropped the full weight of it on her in a moment when she was so vulnerable. She had spent the last year of her life breaking herself down because of you. She had hallowed herself out and torn herself down, convinced herself that there was no life after you. There was not enough left of her to hold up the words I had dropped on her so selfishly. Of course it had felt right for me to say it, but I gave no consideration to the feeling of receiving it.

She collapsed on the floor and I stood over her. My complete focus was on her. Even as Jennifer stood in the doorway, all that was on my mind was Emily. My wife and my son were incidental in that time and space. The love of my life was laying on the floor, her ruination now complete by the words that had rolled off my tongue so effortlessly.

I did not go after Jennifer as she turned and left the room. I did not think about my son who was playing in his bedroom oblivious to the blow that I had dealt to his family. Instead, I knelt next to the woman that I had loved, the woman around who my happiness circled. I listened to the words she was saying, she was calling for you, but I wanted so badly to believe that I could heal her, that I could save her. I wanted to be her hero and to fix all that he had done, to patch up the hole you had left for her to fall into. I believed that I could be that for her, her rescuer.

The truth of it is that she only wanted you. She needed you. She had built a life of love and promises on you the same way I had built my life on her. You ripped that out from under her. You presented yourself to her as a place for her to rest, a place for her let her guard down and to come to for solace. She let you be all of that for her and you yanked it right out from under her. You were supposed to be solid for her. You were supposed to be there. You were the one she had chosen to give her all the things she dreamed for her life. You were the one she had chosen to stand beside her. She had given herself to you and you took it with a grain of salt. You broke it. You broke her.

I've heard that you can't be angry at the dead. I've heard that once something ends the memory of it become bitter sweet. Remembering you, my baby sister, is not like that for me. Remembering you is antagonizing in its sheer bitterness, and my anger toward you. I will never forgive you, and the ramifications of your life still resonate here even after you are gone. Do you even understand what it is you have caused? Are you somewhere looking down at the shambles you have left in the wake of your unending selfishness? Can you see us all here, the people who surrounded you and loved you and held you when you cried? Can you see the state you have left us in? Do you care? Of course you don't care. You never gave a damn about anyone but yourself. You had everything going for you, you always did, and yet it was never enough for you. You took and took with unquenchable thirst. You never gave anything in return, you just kept on taking and we kept on giving.

Do you know what it's like to hate the dead? Do you understand the guilt that I carry with me everyday because of the way you have left me to feel? There is no resolution for this. All our lives we grew up next to each other, we stood by each other through thick and through thin we had blood and that meant something. Even in our squaller we would inevitably come together, me and my baby sister. We would fight and fight, to the point where mom would be standing on the edge of a nervous breakdown, but at the end of the day we were always there for each other. We always made up and resolved our differences. This is a fight. We are fighting now, the difference is that there is no resolution here. We will never come together again. We will never be given the opportunity to forgive each other, and that is what I must carry with me for the rest of my life. I am hampered by the irreversability of this fight, and the injustice in it for all of us. You are not here with us anymore. Is there someone to blame for that? It's so much easier just to blame you, but the guilt of the certainty of your faults is crushing.

I want to remember the sister who's room was next to mine. I want to remember the times you would play your music so loudly I could not concentrate. I want to remember banging on the wall and screaming for you to turn that crap down. I want to remember the inevitable fighting that would follow.

“Gee Tom. It's too bad you don't know good music when you hear it.”

“Yeah right. Good music? You're going to make us all go deaf!” I had screamed at you.

“Deaf? At least you'd go deaf listening to something good for a change. You should be thanking me. Besides, I hear your music all the time and I don't complain. So if I want to play my music loudly this one time, you can suck it!”

“You're so rude. You're such a little brat. 'Suck it'? Who says that? No-one is ever going to want you with an attitude like that!”

You started to cry. You always pretended not to be sensitive, but you were always the first to break down. I didn't realize that you carried all of it with you. I didn't know that every word, every slight, every sideways glance built up inside of you, and that you held it there, inside you as if the insults were a part of you. You could just be so frustrating, and it was just so easy to be angry with you. I never understood the quick escalation of our arguments from petty brother to sister tiffs to full blown war raging between us. Now I do, and in your absence, part of me wishes that I could go back. Maybe if I had the maturity of adulthood, and the clarity of removal from the situation that I have now, maybe then I would have been better for you. Maybe all of us just let you down, and the ashes we stand among now are our own doing.

The thing is that none of us have the answers, and we never will. Your life has become a movie, like the ones that they make you watch in drivers education. You watch the video. You see the beginning and the end. The end comes so quickly that you miss the things in between and their relevance. Then a teacher slows it down, guides you through the video step by step and pauses at all the mistakes. You see what went wrong, and you brainstorm other possibilities, other options like a choose your own adventure novel. You come to a crossroads where a decision must be made, where action must be taken. Life should be slowed down like that. The simple fact is that it is not, and going over and over the details of your existence is what we have left even though there is no chance of you coming back.

* * *

I knelt beside Emily waiting for my head to clear. I could not touch her. Everything had been spinning so quickly and now it was finally slowing down, coming into focus. I loved Emily, and my concern in that moment was for her, but I knew that my future was with Jennifer. I knew that Emily would never fit back into my life the way she once had. She didn't want me. She loved you and you ruined her. You broke her.

Until your death, I was not aware that some things could not be undone. Somethings are not fixable or undo-able. Somethings are forever and don't go away. The brokenness that you had left behind in Emily was one of those things. It was forever. It broke my heart to see her this way, but when things can't be fixed you have to move on. This is life, and I still had mine. I still had my wife and my son, and everything that I had spent copious amounts of my time working toward. I had all of that and in order to keep that I knew I had to let Emily go.

Her eyes opened. “Tom? Where is she?”

I lifted her onto the couch and covered her with the blanket that had been around my waist. “She's dead Emily. You need some rest now. Close your eyes.” I left her like that on the couch and went to find my wife.