Because I've been keeping everything bottled up for so long, I was actually terrified to start this blog. No one besides TDH (and his wife) know anything about this affair, and I didn't realize how much I hated not being able to tell anyone until I started writing. I was also scared of being judged by people that I didn't even know - but in the end, having to do this for myself won out. I am certain that I will get the occasional comment preaching about what a horrible person I am, but I've decided I can deal with that.
Surprisingly the support and understanding I've gotten in my first month of blogging about this has been completely overwhelming. Never did I imagine so many people were in the same kind of situation, but as sadistic as it may seem, I'm glad I'm not the only one.
*****SH has been around this past week, and I've been going like a bat out of hell trying to get my shopping done before we head out of town over Christmas. I've managed to squeeze in a couple meetings with TDH, but his wife is in detective hyperdrive at the moment, after deciding that since she hasn't caught him doing anything wrong in the past 4.5 months, there must be something going on. We're being very, very careful.
As a result of that though, when we met up yesterday for the last time before the holidays, it was somewhat tainted. He was in a fabulous mood to be with me, but kept bringing up his wife. Not in a way that should bother me, just saying how she's so suspicious lately, and constantly picking fights with him. Usually I don't mind him talking about her a bit, since I talk about SH too, and we've always talked about our lives outside of our relationship, but it was just a bit too much yesterday; it caused me to be considerably less giddy than I usually am when we're together.
Still, it was great, and we exchanged gifts over breakfast. Since he knows my penchant for writing, one of the things he got me was a pen. This was by far my favourite of the gifts he gave me. I know, what's so special about a pen, right? Well, it was because he though about my love of writing, my favourite colour, the colour ink I prefer, the fact that I love a fine tip pen, and the way I love it to glide across a page into consideration, and picked one he knew I would love.
When I opened it I actually squealed, and even ooohed as I doodled on the Christmas paper it had been wrapped in. It writes perfectly. As I doodled my first and last names he watched and then said "Now write your real name." And while I knew what he meant, I smirked to myself and wrote my first name and maiden name, then looked to him for approval. He smiled at me and said softly "I mean the name you are meant to have," meaning my first name, and his last. I bent over the paper and wrote it out without a pause - it was strange how natural it felt to write it, considering I've never doodled it before.
"That's perfect," he whispered, "just as it should be."
And of course, my heart beat a little faster, and I smiled just a little more, enough to make my dimple show, which caused him to smile too.