However, my buddy SomewhereMan made a decision. Since a couple of people have asked me about it, I'm publishing SomewhereMan's reasons for his decision. And, as you know, his stuff is always good reading, so enjoy....even if it's a little sad that we won't get to read about his daily escapades anymore.
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I kept running on Tuesday night.
And the answers became more and more clear with each step, as "Throwing It All Away" by Genesis rattled around my skull. Such a fitting song, given my station in life.
I had to kill the blog.
HAD to.
I trotted six miles on Tuesday, laced with sweat and exhausted. With each stride, it was time to kill this monster that I had been feeding for a whole six weeks.
That's really it. Six weeks.
I loved the writing -- adored the level of craftsmanship that I tried to put into the posts, between my experiences and the fantasies.
A note: Only the dear Kat knows this about me but I am actually a published novelist. I've had three books "out", nationally, and have written two others that will probably never see the light of day. Writing is in my blood but in my books, with my name attached, I have to be somewhat muted. Somewhat discreet.
This forum gave me total control over the person I had become. I could be honest, biting, sarcastic and petty. All of the characteristics I cannot be in my "real" life.
I loved it.
However, once the end of the Charlotte Series hit on July 26, I had gotten all of the angst out. My ED day in the hotel back in early June led me to Riff Dog's blog -- which then led me to Shackled Kat.
Kat reached out to me, as I was pouring my guts out on Riff Dog's forum. We've actually become pretty good friends and I know that will continue. :) Kat...you rock and you don't scold me too much when I screw up my prowling.
Yet I had hit the real point of diminishing returns with my writing. I knew that, post-Charlotte, I was going to lose my edge.
The other women (from my story) have had explosive endings but I never was really that into them:
- Angela, 27. She never got that sarcasm doesn't work in texting. I'd ask how her day would be going and she's reply. "Fine" or "Good". A little help here. On June 23, she sent me a picture of herself and her husband. Uh... I know the guy! He's a cop in my city. The next day, I broke her off, five days before our planned meeting. Her words, "That's why I'll never trust again". Coo-coo.
- Kathy, 41. After an outstanding five days of emailing and two make-out sessions (she is beautiful, tan and trim), I sent her an email for an "hour-long meeting" proposal. We live 100 miles apart and I "stack my workday" where I'll be close to her. I have to drive 80. She has to drive 20 on one road. ONE road. Karen gets lost on this one road. She is now 20 minutes late. Then 30. Then 40. "I don't know where I'm going! F*** this!" her angry texts are flowing. Finally, I say that I have to head back to my city.
"You f*&#! ditched me! Thanks a lot! I'm still lost, a##hole!"
Um, if you're yelling at me now because you got lost on a simple 20-mile-on-one-road trip, what's it going to be when I dump your ass in a few months? Using that as the background, we agreed to not go any further. That moment turned her into Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction in my mind.
I've felt this odd, conflicted personality over the past few days. Not over the prowling. Isn't that unusual? The most unusual (hypocritical?) element here is that I'm a church-going Christian. As in a "reborn" we-do-our-baptisms-by-choice-as-adults-and-not-when-we're-infants-and-have-no-real-say Christian.
Yet I'm at peace with my "side action" because of my home life. My wife is abusive -- she hits me, on occasion. Swears at me in front of our young children. Overall, she is Owen's mom from Throw Momma From The Train (my first post). Really. That's no B.S.
Somewhere between mile 3 and 4 on Tuesday night, I truly realized that the blog will only destroy me if I keep it up. I will get very little true "benefit" from it. My stress and self-doubt from Charlotte have faded, largely because I was able to get the feelings out. VERY therapeutic and satisfying to "get it out there".
But, now, the blog can only serve as my guillotine. If it's discovered, I'll lose more than my marriage -- a marriage I plan to kill within 36 months, anyway. If it's out there, I'll lose my job, my career, my future... on top of my marriage and my kids.
Guido The Killer Pimp from Risky Business once said, "never f*&^ with a man's livelihood".
Well, I've been f*&^ing with mine plenty.
I've dodged so many bullets since April and, only now, and I truly realizing it. All of the women I've met have stayed quiet. None have gone crazy on me, although they could squash me like a grape.
Yet I also won't deny the benefits of my last four months. My confidence is through the roof. I walk into a grocery store and can see the eyes of the "pretty mommies" crossing mine. As I've said, I'm not Bradley Cooper but I do take care of myself. When the pendulum swings at 40, I know I'll be on the "good side of it". :)
For that confidence, I simply have to look back at my life the last decade. Starved for sex. Treated horribly at home. Until my A.M. women, it had been nearly a decade since I'd been allowed to go down on a woman. Seriously! I'd do it every day if I could. I've been through domestic hell and have battled through for two purposes: 1) my kids -- as they deserve to have the stable parent "here" and 2) my future finances -- if I go now, I'll get cleaned out. If I go in two years, I'll be okay.
The threat of exposure is the overriding factor, even more than simply having nothing to say.
I got an email today from someone who said, "interesting. You aren't worried about getting caught by family but you are by these women".
I guess that's true.
Right now, I have two women (likely one, sadly, more on that in a second) that I am "involved" with. Keeping them quiet ("in line" is a harsh phrase) is tough enough as it is. I know the odds are minuscule of them finding out about my blogging but why push it?
Especially when it could tear the other elements of my life down? I'd fall apart like an old farmhouse in a twister.
That's why I am "out". Fear of exposure although I suppose that fear is no larger nor greater than it was six weeks ago. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe I'm just getting all of my ducks in a row before the eventual split. Maybe I cannot stand the thought of my kids coming across the blog one day.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
But I had to kill it.
For myself.
:)
