In true procrastinating-blogger-who-makes-excuses-acting-like-posts-by-cell-are-impossible fashion, I’m going to apologize.
Has it really been a week already? Damn, where are my nights and days going.
Oh wait- I know. Rescue 911.
Two songs popped into my head while I was on the treadmill a few moments ago. The first was “My Little Secret” by Xscape but no- that one doesn’t exactly fit.
The second was “If Loving You Is Wrong” by Barbara Mandrell. I liked the lyrics a little better, not screaming “whore!!!” Like the Xscape song but still- not quite fitting to my situation.
I’ve been contemplating for quite some time about sharing my philanderings with Rescue.
He’s like my dirty little secret. Kind of like masturbating in a public place. It feels absolutely wonderful, makes me happy and is fulfilling but at the same time, I feel a little ashamed.
You’ve only heard about him in spurts; a mention in The Dating Resume and maybe an update somewhere but never really in detail.
Rescue makes me happy, makes me laugh, understands me, is affectionate, a great lover, communicates with me, shares his dreams, likes Prince, accepts me and all my flaws, understands my love of a wig collection, and above all – is my friend.
He’s married and although he’s separated and living some 3,000 miles away from the wife, he’s still married. Hitched. Attached. Linked. Someone’s tax filing partner. Not single.
Don’t judge me before you read the details and even after reading, don’t judge me. Simply try to understand.
I’ve already asked and told myself the same things you would normally say to a woman in this situation. Trust me, I’ve probably even made up a few you haven’t thought of.
Before I go into the details of how I allowed myself to become so emotionally intertwined with him (again), I should first take you back to the beginning of when we first met in April 2007.
More to come, but for now- I’ve got an appointment with the Stairmaster!
Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.