One of the reasons I avoid writing too much about Bennett is because it starts my brain up again.
Of course I think about him being married, often.
When I am happy and satisfied, it’s easy enough to ignore. His ability to keep me calm and show me love is well beyond anything I have ever expected to experience. It does make me crazy that he is such a good match for me and he is already promised to someone else.
I try not to think about it and it’s had a huge impact on my desire to write. This blog has always been about the truth of where I am with myself, and if I start writing about Bennett, I have to put the words on paper and write/read them and it simply reminds me of something I am choosing to ignore.
If I choose to feel this good the only thing I can do is ignore Bennett’s situation.
I feel strongly about not pushing him, and I refuse to nag about something so obvious.
In my head, the choice is mine. Stay or go. No sense in complaining in what I did to myself.
There are things that can get me down the wrong path quickly…one of them being any discussion of Facebook. Now, I don’t actually use Facebook much anymore so it doesn’t come up often, but occasionally I may go to look for someone there and – like some kind of obscene car crash – I go to his page. Why? What’s the point of self-inflicted torture? We are not friends on FB or IG, nor do I want to be because I would totally over analyze every single photo he has up, or that someone tags him in. He has already told me there are many family photos up from the past years. I don’t want to see them, there’s no point. But it still bugs me that there is that clear piece of evidence that he’s married. It jars open the nice little closed box I keep that tucked away in.
We have talked about our future. There is nothing definitive other than we would be together. He behaves as though the future is ours in all respects. His conversation is already “us” and “we” and “ours” when he talks about anything. I distinctly notice when he refers to anything related to his marriage/home he will say the singular, rather than the plural…which was something Bobby never did. He never moved into that singular mode, he was always grounded in the “we/ours” of his marriage. I clearly recall when I moved from the plural to the singular, for me that was a big change to begin thinking of things as mine and not ours any longer. I have no idea if this theory is valid or not, I imply recall it being obvious for me and for Bobby in those respects.
Waiting on his mother’s health feels morbid, and I suppose it is. Last week she went into hospice, this week she is coming out. Someone rightly pointed out that the chances of Bennett saying anything to his wife prior to the holidays is slim-to-none. When I think of the mess this all is I do get sick to my stomach. I just don’t like being here again.
I try not to behave as though my future is set out with him, and just accept this day-by-day. That’s hard for me overall since I am such a planner, I have a need to know what’s up next in my life and how I am going to address it. I like long range planning (though interestingly enough, I cannot plan long range in terms of money, never could).
I suppose today is more of putting my thoughts down on paper because the FB conversation arose this morning and it sort of set me off down the wrong path. Yesterday I was on cloud nine, I bought a car, I love my job, the kids were good to me, and Bennett sent another bouquet of beautiful flowers to me at work with an incredibly thoughtful handwritten note.
I know I can’t continue like this if I don’t pressure these thoughts. If I let them irradiate me and take priority, I will be unhappy. I know it’s unrealistic, but at this point in my life, things are about as close to perfect as they could be….and I really don’t want to lose this buzz I’ve got going…being high on life at the moment.
Short-sighted? Yes. I know.
I seem to be convincing myself that if Bennett and I are meant to be, we will be. If I stay with him now or not. If he is meant to leave that marriage and come to me, he will. And if I am available, we will move forward together. The hope that this can happen is so strong it over-rides my common sense to say these things rarely happen.
Do I want to stay in this cocoon of foolishness? For now, yes. Yes, I do. So, that means all those thoughts above just get shelved for the time being, until the next time something sets my gears going again.
Til then, I avoid the truth.