White Flag

Sometimes a song says it so much better than I can. I need to dance. I need to cry these tears and move on. Or at least let the world think I have. Turning the volume up yet again.

"White Flag"

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it where's the sense in that?
I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be I

know I left too much mess and destruction to come back again
And I caused nothing but trouble
I understand if you can't talk to me again
And if you live by the rules of "it's over" then I'm sure that that makes sense

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still
I'll let it pass
And hold my tongue
And you will think
That I've moved on....

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

Existing

I haven't heard from him. I don't know that I ever will. I could call him I suppose. Nothing stopping me except pride, fear,,and a pretty good understanding of his brain. If he wanted to talk,,he would call. If he had something he wanted to say he would say it. If he wanted to see me right now,,he would find a way. My brain has spun all of the events,,well the version I know of the events,,a thousand different ways and it always comes out the same. If he wanted to communicate. He would. I can guess and postulate and predict and wonder,,it changes nothing. I'm here. He's out there somewhere. I haven't seen his name in the obituaries. I assume he is alive. I pray he is well.

As the blog name says,,,

A sudden overwhelming change. In the blink of an eye without any warning for reasons unknown,,a vicissitude. Capricious. She knows. She found the blogs. How? He didn't say. I can't begin to imagine. She has them though. She read every word. I cannot imagine her reaction. How does a soul respond to words like that? It was for us. It was about us. It was written for us, by us. It was not intended for her. Ever. Was she angry? Disgusted? Hurt? Entertained? Curious? Possibly I'll never know. He called the night of the confrontation. I deleted them. Immediately. Foolish impulsive move. Erased our history. The only thing I had of him really,,his words to me,,and I gave them up. No copies, no backup. I just erased them. What I would give to have them back. To have his words. Our story. He called the next morning. He had not denied me. That was comforting in a way. I was at least worthy of that. He admitted to it all. He is an honorable man. The practically perfect man. Even in this. I wonder how he portrayed me? Was I the temptress? The vixen? Old and ugly? One of those women that is fuckable but not lovable? He was going to disappear. Forever? I pray not. I expect so. We didn't have a contingency plan. We hadn't ever really thought about what might happen or how we would or should react. I hadn't at least. Possibly he had. He said GoodBye. We didn't say good bye. Ever. I'll accept whatever his decision is. I want what is best for him. I always have. I wonder if he knows that? I wonder if he can believe it now? Or care? I still have my memory palace. The place that I can go and still love him. Float through and hear the laugh,,see the smile,,my happy thoughts.

In the event that she decides to recheck this site,,I want to clarify a few things. "Z" is actually two different people. I didn't realize when writing this that the identities would ever matter. One "Z" I think she can identify. The other "Z" is a friend of mine. A dancing partner, a confidante, an opinionated gay male that frequently advises me on matters of the heart, fashion and wine,,and happens to have a Spanish name that I cannot begin to pronounce and has been Z since our introduction. For what it's worth,,Z is not necessarily the one you think.
Another point to clarify,,,he always loved you. Always. He said so regularly. He never denied it. He never wanted out of the marriage. The guilt was killing him. Living the lie was killing him. He was not unfaithful to you in his love. You always had his heart. If you want someone to blame, if it will make it easier for you,,then blame me. Let the hatred and the anger flow my direction. Make me the whore, the homewrecker,,call me whatever you will. Think of me what you will. Know this though,,Mike is the single most amazing man I've ever met and you are the lucky woman that has him. And yes,,you have him. You always have. As they said in Private Ryan,,Deserve it. Earn it. You didn't deserve to read what you did or feel the pain that you did,,that's not what I'm saying. No one deserves that. But take what you read in here and learn from it. Grow. Be the woman that a man like that needs and deserves. Don't persecute him for what he is. What he is is as close to perfection as I've ever encountered.
Creative license was taken at times,,thoughts and words attributed or credited to one where they had only been implied,,multiple characters combined into one for the ease of writing,,and always written from my perspective. It was not intended as an accurate historical document.

I find myself in the most odd position of wanting to reach out and comfort the woman that has the man I love,,and at the same time,,to offer respite to the most incredible man I've ever known. A Springer show in the making. Most odd. I hope she finds peace. I hope he finds happiness. Most of all,,I hope he knows that he will always be loved. That he is truly unconditionally loved. And respected. And that he deserves them both. And more.