4bidN

The Discovery - Part 1

My Happy Ending-Avril Lavigne

-“Isabel?”

-“Hey”

-“How r u doing?”

-“Need to talk to u”

No messages showed for a while. I could imagine Matthew’s face reading the text. He probably sensed that it was bad news.  I knew he had to cover several cases and he was probably in the operating room of some hospital in San Bernardino. There was a long pause, and then I typed:

-“R u in surgery?”

-“Yes, sorry”

-“K. I know you’re busy but let me know when I can call u”

I was feeling queasy, I felt like I was going to pass out. There was a heavy sensation in my chest that made it very difficult to breathe. It has been the worst day of my life.

I knew what the right thing to do was, but I didn’t like the idea of putting an end to my secret “e-love-story”.  I was completely aware of how risky it was, but I tried to justify my licentious behavior reminding myself that I had never touched Matthew. It was all happening on text message, e-mail, the phone and my blog.

I had been careful enough to eliminate all the compromising messages, but I’ve sent a couple of e-mails from my phone that I guess, I didn’t delete from my e-mail account.  That’s all Larry needed to see to find out about Matthew.

We had been texting the night before, and right before going to bed, I had to go to the front door to find Rudolph, my orange chubby tabby that had gotten out earlier. He likes to hang out in the bushes, next to the front door. I’ve left my phone laying on my nightstand for about five minutes. That’s when Matthew’s last message came in.  Larry had just come to bed and picked up my phone when he heard the buzz.  He saw the last message, and then he scrolled down and realized that I’ve been talking to Matthew for a while.

When I came to bed with Rudolph in my arms, he announced in a low voice, “you got a text message”

“I did?” I pretended to be unaware. My heart was bouncing out of my chest, hoping that Matthew hasn’t written anything inappropriate. “Can’t text anymore, can we talk tomorrow?” I read with relief.

Larry’s eyes were inquisitive, as he glanced at me. “What does Matthew want?” He knew we worked together, but it was Sunday at 10 pm.  “Nothing, just chatting”, I explained as I replied “nite nite”. He didn’t ask more questions and I tried to pretend nothing was going on.

Then I tucked myself in bed and picked the book I had just started reading, “New Moon”, by Sthephenie Meyer. I read the chapter titled “The End” and my mind tried to figure out how my affair with Matthew will end.  I wondered if I could continue with the calls and texts without being caught. I thought that Larry didn’t deserve being cheated on and I knew that I wouldn’t have the courage to sleep with Matthew and be able to look into Larry’s deep blue eyes again. I was trapped between the safety and the monotony of my marriage and the excitement of a new adventure, a very dangerous one. 

The Discovery - Part 2

Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds

I knew I had to stop talking to Matthew, but I really didn’t want to. It felt great knowing that someone was feeling fascinated by me.  It was exciting to read his messages and feel aroused in the middle of the day, in the strangest places, to get carried away fantasizing about him, feeling the burning desire to run to his side. Could this be harmless?

There was a phrase in the book that got stuck on my head “it will be as if it never existed”. I thought that was probably the way it had to be between Matthew and me, for the sake of my marriage and our sanity. Matthew was just coming out of divorce, after twenty years of marriage, nothing easy to overcome. He was vulnerable to my encouraging words during training sessions, and my uneasy way of acting when he was around me. It had never crossed my mind that we were going to go this far, but now there was no way to keep it to ourselves anymore. And it was getting too dangerous for both of us. It had to be that way, as if it never existed…

The thought of hurting my husband gave me the goose bumps. Larry and I were sort of the perfect couple from the distance. Together we had conquered financial, parenting and even previous relationship challenges, and enjoyed a strong connection. However, our intimate life had been neglected for the last two or three years, to the point of total absence of sexual contact in the last ten or eleven months.  I had gotten used to go alone to my flameless bed, and had chosen to avoid thinking about it by submerging myself in good readings and some attempts to write. The source of my inspiration, however, was weak and flaky, until Matthew injected me with a dose of passion that reignited my literary dormant genius.  I thought about our texts as I closed my book and my eyes to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t want to face another day in pain. My heart was broken and the pieces were all over my room. I picked them up slowly and forced myself out of bed. I washed my face, in a silly attempt to clean the shame, and walked downstairs to get my daily cup of coffee.  Larry stood in the kitchen, as if he’s been waiting for me.

“We have to talk”, he demanded. “We have to talk about Matthew”

I felt as if I was free falling from one of those rides that just drop you unexpectedly.

“I know”, I admitted, my heart beating faster that ever. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

The Discovery - Part 3

Take a Look at Me Now

It was odd, but I felt some kind of relief confessing to Larry what was going on with Matthew. I thought he’d understand, since I’d never really touched my lover… I thought he'd hold me tight and say "I forgive you, we'll make it through this" After all, I had forgiven him before, for something that I considered worse! 

But that was not the case. He had read my blog, which revealed details about how I felt about Matthew, including a very vivid description of our sexual fantasies.

“Have you kissed him? Have you slept with him?” He scrutinized.

“No, no, we never…”

“I read your blog, it was a matter of time. You two were going to end up in bed sooner or later, and you know it. What you wrote about having a crush on him, and the description of your lust for him…” Larry held a tight fist up in frustration. “And he wrote back to you saying he wants to be inside you…” he raised his voice slightly, trying not to get the kids attention, but I knew he was about to lose control.

“It was just a fantasy, we talked about how we feel about each other, but decided to remain friends and not to do anything crazy. But the messages got increasingly hot. It was addicting, it was fun to talk dirty, we tried to stop it, and we just couldn’t. I thought since I’d never be with him, I’d write about him. It’s literature, what you read is just literature…” This was my best explanation.

“I’m very hurt” his bleak eyes said it better.

“I’m sorry”, I cried trying to get closer to him.

“Isabel, I love you. I’ll die for you. Do you want to make this marriage work? I can’t make it work if you have one foot out the door. It takes two to tango.” He calmed down for a minute, as he gazed at me.

“I do want it to work, I’ve always wanted it to work, but if I’m feeling attracted to someone else, it’s because there’s something missing in this marriage. I can’t continue to live on crumbs of passion and the feeling that for you, having sex with me is as bad as eating a poop sandwich. I’m not trying to justify my behavior, but I believe we can’t ignore our issues anymore…” I whined sulkily. Larry scowled and walked away before it escalated. I didn’t know what else to do or say.

Trying to communicate with Larry in the middle of this havoc wasn’t a good idea. There was too much pain and confusion, we couldn’t reason like grown ups. Larry felt betrayed, his eyes twitching as he tried to keep the tears hostage in his eyes. I felt more miserable than ever in my life, causing all this pain to the man that I’ve chosen to live my life with. I’ve never seen him cry so many tears.  No apology was enough to subside the damage. I’ve killed my soul mate.

The following hours were unbearable. The guilt was consuming every piece of my heart that was left in my chest, and I still had to talk to Matthew. I wondered how was I going to survive the wreckage in my marriage without Matthew’s kind words. I wished I could keep him as a friend, but that was not an option for Larry. It will have to be as if it never existed.

The blog: What Larry Read (June 17, 2009)

Bizarre Love Triangle

June 17, 2009

I rolled my window down to say good bye again, I really didn’t want to take off, but I knew I needed to. I asked him if he wanted some gum. He smiled and accepted my offer, so I threw a stick of spearmint gum to him. He made a perfect catch and I glanced at his face, unshaved, his golden hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. I felt a deep sorrow, because I had the feeling that I was not going to see him again.

He left the parking lot before me. I sat there for a couple of minutes and tried to compose myself, as I set up my GPS to take me back home. I drove for over thirty minutes on the 215, but I was so submerged in my thoughts that I almost missed my exit, if it wasn’t for the GPS directing me.

I felt strong and somehow proud of myself for not giving in to my deep desires of sinking in his arms. I had to bite my lips to avoid saying what I wanted to say and to contain the kisses that were trying to burst out of my mouth. I have no idea how I stopped myself, but I was glad I did.

What I couldn’t stop though, was the melancholy that took over my heart. I started to ask myself too many what-if questions, the answers all the wrong ones. I tried not to think about it anymore as I pulled into my driveway. My husband and my son were there, ready to go to guitar lessons. I climbed into the other car feeling somehow guilty, but immediately realized there was no need, since I haven’t done anything wrong.

My husband noticed my sadness and I talked about my career frustrations and my desire to make a big change and start doing what I’m really passionate about, like writing and running a half marathon. He said it was alright, that I could do whatever I wanted, but I knew that he really needed the little extra money I can make as a per diem Pharmacy Tech to support our household.

It was trying to make that extra cash, how I ended up distributing some hospital supplies, as an independent sales rep. And that’s how I met Matthew. I started to train with him last winter and have learned everything I know about hips and knees from his patient but entertaining sessions, which I really enjoyed, not much because of the valuable information, but because I could stare into his deep eyes while I asked random stupid questions about anatomy and physiology.

During those days, we talked about our lives more than we talked about work. The first day I saw him we had to drive to Brotman  Hospital in Culver City, from Pasadena, and we spend the one-hour rush hour drive talking about ourselves. He was like an open book from the beginning. He told me about the misery of his marriage, the book he had written and his days as a missionary in Venezuela. His Spanish sounded like music in my ears. I’m not always that open, but I felt as if I’ve known him from a long time, or from another life, and probably said too much about myself too.

During the surgery he whispered what the surgeon was doing and I felt drawn to him like a magnet.  I listened carefully to everything he said, and stayed as close to him as I could, without letting him know that I was having palpitations every time I was by his side.  He had to lean to talk to my five-foot-two little person, his greenish eyes bouncing from the operating table to my confused brown pupils that tried to focus on the surgical procedure. I liked Matthew since that very first surgery, but I didn’t want to accept the fact that I was feeling attracted to another man. I’ve been married for ten years and enjoyed a fairly fulfilling life with Larry. He is the perfect husband in many ways. He’s kind, smart, funny and can fix just about everything in the house. He’s also a great chef and a caring father. On the down side, he drinks beer almost every day and smokes like a chimney, which I dislike, but not enough to file for divorce. What I can’t stand are the times when he lies to me. I have learned to forgive and suck it in and he had learned that I’m not easy to lie to, so his behavior has been a lot better lately than years ago.

What keeps my marriage together is all the work we put into it. We may have some disagreements, but we try to work out our differences in the name of the relationship. We communicate in a proactive and creative way, that didn’t come naturally, but is a result of studying and hours spent reading books.

So when Matthew started to make my solid foundation turn into quick sand, I was not ready to sink. I tried to ignore the desire that I had to be with him, but I also managed to find an excuse to train with him, or to borrow some catheters for a surgery. The desire just kept growing and I started to feel completely helpless around him. Once I even said an innocent but well meant “I love you!” after he told me I didn’t have to wait another hour until the surgical instruments were sterilized and dismissed the class. Then I hugged him and the touch of his body made me even more thirsty. But I covered it well, and tried to see him just as a friend.

When Matthew’s wife filed for divorce he wasn’t surprised, but it definitely broke his heart, specially after finding out that she was seeing someone else. I couldn’t imagine why a woman could want to be away from such an amazing man, but I guess he had the same impression, when I told him that there has been no intimacy in my marriage for a while. “I’d be all over you!” he told me in a kind of upset-at-my-husband voice. And I wanted him to be. More than ever after the bipolar training on the parking lot of Coco’s in Menifee.  That training had to be rescheduled a couple of times because of Matthew’s complicated life. So I was a little anxious to see him. The learning part was seasoned with all kinds of jokes, some more dirty than others, but never disrespectful. The sun was bright and my whole self was feverish, consuming my defense mechanisms to ashes. I could totally explain spontaneous combustion that day.  I still don’t know how I got to extinguish all those flames popping from all my pores. He explained it really well on an e-mail that he wrote to me a few days later, one that made me cry, as I realized that I was not the only one entangled in this bittersweet emotional mess, although he never said it was me who he was talking about:

“Once there was this girl who was younger than me by a couple years that had me so turned on that I couldn't see straight. Everything she said, the way she looked, smelled, acted, smiled, giggled, joked and looked at me was so exciting, but she was married. She never offered herself to me or anything like that but I'm glad I left when I did because in my life I have never wanted to you know what more than that day. Had she wanted to or had she given me a besote*there would have been no turning back. Nothing ever happened but I think about that afternoon quite often... Our minds were on the same page and we were both thinking the same thing and both of us knew because she was married that it was a no no, but mentally we both were saying yes yes! It was great. It was so hard for me to leave her in the parking lot as I drove away... Anyways, the mental part of things when it comes to things like women is critical, but in this case I think it was the woman that made it so intoxicating. It wouldn't have been the same with anyone else.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks in confusion. I knew he was talking about me and I knew I wanted to run to his arms and get lost forever. I tried to reply to his e-mail three times, but I deleted them all.

The first one went like this: “I can understand how your toxic girl is feeling. I also have met a man that I like a lot and I feel like I’m going to faint when I’m next to him, but I wouldn’t dare to touch him.”

I deleted that one and wrote the next one: “Maybe you should kiss her first, because she’s afraid that you don’t feel the same way.” I had to seek expert advice for the third one. I called my best friend.

So I wrote:“I have some questions about your previous e-mail. Can we meet and talk about it in person?” I never sent any of them. Maybe I was too afraid of saying anything. Since he didn’t hear from me, he called me the next day. But I was in the middle of a huge fight with my husband. For the first time I had refused to have sex with him. He couldn’t take the rejection and went ballistic. So we didn’t talk about the e-mail, and I didn’t tell him that the true reason why I couldn’t accede to Larry’s demands was the fact that I had a crush on Matthew.

*besote is Spanish for "big kiss"

The blog: What Larry Read (June 18, 2009)

Lets Make A Night to Remember

June 18, 2009

There was not a corner of my skin that his hands didn’t explore. That night the words were unnecessary. Once our lips touched for the first time, we couldn’t stop the cascade of passion that took over ourselves. I held him tight, my hands playing with his silky hair. His lips moved slowly from across my neck to reach my breast. I unbuttoned his shirt with some difficulty, resulting from my nervousness. He helped me with one hand, while the other one was sliding down the straps of my top.

My feverish body trembled as he caught my nipples gently with his teeth. I rolled on top of him and drowned on his chest. The heat of our bodies released a fragrance that unleashed some kind of wild animal in  me. I reached for his pants, about to explode, and tasted him all over. He twisted a strand of my hair and closed his eyes to surrender to the pleasure.
The next moment, he was holding me in his muscular arms and laying me down carefully in bed. He pulled down my jeans and I kicked them out. It was my turn to close my eyes. I let a scream out of my mouth and my back curled up, leaving room for his hands to draw the curve from my waist to my hips.
I don’t know for how long we melted together. If a thought tried to invade my mind and disrupt the magic of the moment, I slapped it away. It was easier than I’ve imagined. I felt safe in Matthew’s arms. The time seemed to had stopped to give us a glance of eternity. We made love over and over, until we had no more strength and I fell asleep under his embrace.
When I woke up, I was covered in sweat. It was 5:30 am. I was alone in bed. I looked around me, searching for Matthew, still groggy, but I couldn’t find him, except in my dream. It had been so real that I could still taste him.
I couldn’t go back to sleep, and I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream. I smelled the coffee that my husband was brewing and I could feel the same melancholy of the previous day coming back without compassion. I hugged my pillow in confusion. Then I decided to jump out of bed and canalize this burning energy into something that will distract me: the gym. I climbed on the treadmill and run four miles. But I still couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. The sweat rolling down my face reminded me of the intensity of our encounter and the taste of Matthew’s lips. I started to feel so high that I had to increase the pace so that nobody will notice that I was suddenly hyperventilating.
After a long shower, I did my best to cool down and continue with my day. I had promised to take my son to Toys ’R’ us, to pick out some toys with the $100 that he got for getting straight “A”s in his fourth grade report card.
I was looking at Legos when the avalanche of text messages started. I had send him a message before going to bed last night. I was sad because he got a new job and we weren’t going to be working together anymore:
“Thanks for the catheters and the pumps, I miss you already”, my message read.
“You’re welcome. Don’t miss me, just see me sometimes”, he replied. Nathan asked me how much money will it cost to get three Lego sets that he had picked. I tried to do the math and text Matthew back, giving my son a number that was way over one $100, so he let a groan out and kept looking.
“I guess I’m out of excuses, since I have all your pumps and catheters, and we’re not going to be working together” I explained.
“Why do you need and excuse?” I wasn’t sure how to answer. Nathan kept asking me about the prices, so I told him to estimate and add about 10% for taxes. He starting adding up aloud and I wrote:
“Cuz otherwise it will be undeniable...”  As soon as I pushed the “Send” key, I realized that I have just confessed to him what I didn’t want anyone to know. I couldn’t believe I said that! His next message was more shocking, evidently he already knew it:
“You and I are going to end up in bed if we’re not careful”.
We have moved to the next aisle and I had flashbacks of my dream. I was speechless. I didn’t reply for a while and after he asked me if cat has gotten my tongue, I said:
“I’m just trying to recover for a thought I had”.
Nathan had done an unbelievable job at estimating that he was getting two Lego sets and a Bionicle for about $90. I didn’t double checked him, just rolled the car to the register, feeling my heartbeat too loud.
“I want to hear it” showed on my screen. “No, you don’t”, I responded. “I already know”.
I payed $91.67, very impressed about my son’s accuracy. His smile brightened up the overcast morning. I started driving back home. The next messages became increasingly hot, and I started to feel uncomfortable. I probably stopped sending messages and that’s when my phone rang.
Matthew’s voice was somehow apologetic, but I didn’t really mind, because I had seen it all and I had done it all the previous night. I talked to him about my dream, which aroused him even more. I felt so awkward, confessing all these feelings that I’d restrained since the first day that I looked into his dreamy eyes.

My own discovery - Part 1

Laura Pausini - Amores Extranos

-“Now”, all the sudden showed on my phone. It had been a couple of hours since the last message. I run upstairs and locked myself in the walking closet, where nobody could hear me.“Larry knows everything”, I confessed as I dropped to the floor leaning on the wall, next to the belt rack.

He mumbled some bad word, and I went on, “He saw that we were texting last night and got suspicious, so he checked my e-mail and found a couple of messages that I thought I’d deleted. He’s read my blog, he knows it all!”

“Can you save your marriage?” he asked, genuinely concerned, which confused me even more. “I’m trying to, but he’s very upset and very hurt. He’s treating me as if it actually happened. He even said I should go ahead and sleep with you, so that I can get it out of my system!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea… hey Isabel, listen, my phone is almost out of battery, it can die anytime…”

“I know, it can make everything worse. What if we really like it?”  I asked twisting my hair in total confusion.

“I’m sure it would be great, I just can’t have a relationship right now. Maybe you should go to counseling. I don’t think we should….” The battery died and I sat there listening to the silence for a while. I’m not sure how long I sat there, hiding my head between my hands and my knees, until I could pick myself up from the floor and get out of the closet.  That was the last time that I heard Matthew’s voice.

I thought about saving my marriage. Larry had asked me if I wanted to make it work. I had agreed, since that would be the right thing to do. I wanted to make it work, but my eyes had been opened to a new and exciting world and I was curious to explore it.

That night was eternal. In my dreams I kept seeing Matthew’s sweet eyes that all the sudden were Larry’s teary eyes. I jumped off my bed several times. My stomach was hurting and I remembered that I haven’t eaten since noon. I tried to mitigate the pain with sips of water. Larry wasn’t in bed, he had decided that the couch was a better place to be, so when I failed all my efforts to get some sleep, I turned the light on and started reading. The best thing about a good book is its ability to help me abscond into the story and forget my reality.

I saw the daylight crawling up my window, silently reminding me that I was still alive. It was still hard to breathe and I tried to fall asleep one more time. I’d rather spend the rest of the day under my covers, hiding from the pain and the guilt. I thought about taking some Benadryl, which really helps me sleep when my allergies get bad. But then I remembered that my father in law needed some and I have given him mine to save a trip to the pharmacy. I closed my eyes and passed out for an hour. Then I woke up and saw a beautiful face staring at me. My son Nathan was lying next to me, ready for cuddle time. I hugged him, kissed his forehead and rubbed his straight brown hair. His big brown eyes and his crooked smile brought some hope to my miserable day and I felt his unconditional love pouring over me. “You’re the best mother ever”, he whispered and I couldn’t contain the tears. In Nathan’s eyes I was still perfect. I hugged him again and he made a goofy choking impression from a cartoon.

“I’m starving!” he exclaimed jumping out of bed. “I need some breakfast, come on mom!” He pulled my arm to help me get up. I felt heavier than usual. I yawned one more time and let him pull me downstairs to the kitchen.

Larry was working in his office, but I didn’t go to say good morning, as I usually do. I didn’t think he wanted to see me after I killed him the previous day. I walked like a zombie trying to figure out what to fix for the hungry boy. My brain wasn’t in good shape to make bacon and eggs, without burning something. I thought cereal was safer and healthier, so I asked Nathan to pick some from the pantry and made myself some coffee.

I sat in front of Nathan, sipping on my coffee while he talked about video games. I tried to understand what he was trying to explain, but my brain wasn’t working properly. I’m might have suffered some brain damage from the whole emotional stroke. Then I remembered that I needed to eat something, so I cooked some old fashioned oatmeal and sliced a banana.

I had just started to push some food into my empty stomach, when Larry walked into the kitchen. His eyes looked tired, as he had spent the night awake too. He made himself some coffee and grimaced. Then he walked back to his office without saying a word.

I picked up my bowl and followed him without thinking. I knew we couldn’t continue to survive with all this pain and bitterness. I approached him with some fear of rejection, but knowing that I deserved it. I was hoping we could stop arguing and start to communicate our feelings like in the past, before Matthew. But Larry wasn’t ready to hear my account of complaints and the long list of reasons why our marriage wasn’t working and I was having an affair. He wasn’t ready to hear that I didn’t feel as guilty as he thought I should feel. I was actually starting to feel as if he was trying to manipulate me.

His words were harsh and mean. I tried to be sympathetic and understand his pain. I didn’t want to argue, just talk and find a solution. I was so tired that I couldn’t articulate the words properly in my defense. He only heard complaints and an attempt to justify my unfaithfulness.  When Larry raised his voice apoplectically and called me a cheater I got so frustrated that I dropped my bowl of oatmeal on the floor. The pieces of the bowl scattered in all directions with the gooey stuff everywhere on the garage floor. I wasn’t going to allow Larry to talk to me that way, not even under the circumstances. He got in his car and left.

My own Discovery - Part 2

01 Its A Sin

I looked at the mess on the floor and saw some analogy to the mess in my life. I cleaned it up, my tears dripping over the clutter, and wished I could clean the other mess as fast as I’ve cleaned this one.

Larry had called me a cheater and a liar, he had asked me “how could you do this to your devoted husband?” I could hear those words thundering on my head. I couldn’t stand the self-righteousness! Did he forget about the times I had forgiven him for not being exactly devoted? I was willing to admit my mistakes, but being the only one carrying the blame felt totally unfair. There was no mercy in his frown and the anger had transformed the man that I had loved into a selfish stranger that I just wanted to run away from.
When Larry came back an hour later, he apologized for the way he had treated me. I was glad I’ve made my point. However, he was still upset and we both felt awkward.
“I have a request”, he stared at my tired and puffy eyes. I scrutinized him in silence. “I need you to send Matthew an e-mail asking him to never ever contact you again in any way. I need to know that he’s out of your life”
“I will”, I didn’t hesitate. That was the way it was supposed to be anyway. I typed a short e-mail on my Blackberry and showed it to Larry. He read it and said it was fine, so I pushed the “send” key without second thoughts. As soon as I did it, though, something stung my heart, like a splinter, sharp and uncomfortable and I knew I didn’t really mean what I wrote, but I didn’t want to think about it. I tried to ignore the splinter but it became more painful with every heartbeat. So by the end of the day I had to give up and admit that I couldn’t just pretend it never existed. Somehow Matthew was stuck in my heart and I needed to find a way to stay in touch with him. I needed to explain that I didn’t mean what I wrote. I had to figure out a way to communicate with him.
But I had to be very careful this time, knowing that Larry was watching every one of my steps, reading every one of my e-mails, forwarding all my text messages to his inbox and watching phone records. He knew all my passwords because they were all my pet’s name, and he even installed a “family locator” on my cell phone, so that he could know where I was at all times. He had to renounce to this last senseless torture as soon as I started to look for tickets to fly back to my country and run away from the prison I was living in. He promised to remove the infamous locator, explaining that he didn’t want me to leave; he just wanted me to be an “open book” and show him that I was committed to our marriage.
In these circumstances, I couldn’t make any mistakes. I felt like a criminal planning an evil plot. But the risk was worthwhile. I needed someone who could understand me, I needed Matthew. That’s how I came up with the fictitious names and the secret e-mail address: mark_claire@hotmail.com. Matthew became Mark, and I became Claire. I sent a first test e-mail to Matthew:

Dear Matthew,
I had to create a new e-mail address because things are not looking good here and I know I'm being watched. I know that we can't continue to talk the way we did and I do want to keep my marriage, but I don't want to lose touch with you. So I guess we can stay in touch this way, if it's OK with you. I know your battery died and I couldn't tell you everything. I know I messed up, and I hurt him really bad. I got carried away and didn't think about the pain I could cause. But he's trying to make me feel like I actually cheated. He's trying to manipulate the situation to make me feel guilty and humiliate me. He says he loves me, and he gives me everything I want, but when we (the kids and I) ask him to quit smoking, stop drinking, have a healthier lifestyle, etc, he completely ignores us. He likes to show me off, brags about his cute little Peruvian wife, as if I was some kind of exotic collection item, but at the end of the day I'm alone in bed, reading. I've read more books in the last two years than I've done in my previous 38. So I'm trying to focus on the good things and try to make this work, once again, but I can't help feeling like a trophy. I think the fact that he told me to go and have sex with you, that I had his permission, confirms that he just wants to keep this marriage as a façade. I just want it to be real, but I don't see that. My commitment at this point is mostly to God and my kids, if you know what I mean.
I just wanted to thank you for being there, I'm sorry that I got you into all this mess. I should have shut my mouth and my phone. I enjoyed every second that I spent with you and I really hope we can still be good friends. I really don't want to complicate your life, you already have enough to worry about, so don't worry about me, I'll be fine, I've been through about everything and I'm strong.

Love, Claire (that’s my new name)

Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone with Nextel Direct Connect

My own discovery - Part 3

Ace Of Base - I Saw The Sign

As soon as Claire was born and the e-mail sent, I got off my Mac and felt a dash of hope that drew a smile on my face. I looked at the brown eyed girl in the mirror and asked,

“What are you doing? Are you nuts?”

She just smiled again, biting her lover lip and staring back at me. I got really close to her, letting my hair hang over my right shoulder as I shrugged.

“You’re crazy”, I whispered. “I am crazy!” Then I skipped to bed and drowned into my pillows and my reads.

The happiness of that moment didn’t last too long, because Matthew didn’t reply. Was he mad at me? Or was he just trying to do the right thing, staying away from me so that I could focus on my marriage?

The following couple of days were gray and stormy in my heart, yet the summer weather was gorgeous in Southern California. I had a difficult time existing.  I could hardly get out of bed and my whole body felt sore and heavy, regardless of the fact that I’ve lost five pounds.  I felt weak and tears burned in my eyes randomly during the long empty bright sunny days. I forced myself to eat, in absence of my appetite, and continued to log miles on the treadmill, now that the heat was too cruel for an outdoors run.

Larry had some days of compassion, his anger subsided and he started to act as if forgiveness had reached his heart.  He was attentive and kind; way too nice after the way he had treated me before.  I thought that maybe he was getting over his anger and we could work things out.  However, something didn’t feel right about the way he was acting and I was too weak to try to figure it out.  I just went along with his act, and tried to fit in my marriage, as if it was an unknown stage, a place I’ve never seen before. For some reason, I felt that I was walking on eggshells on this new platform that was holding on by a thread.

When everything seemed to be getting better, my husband would suddenly have another outbreak of anger.  He said he was expecting me to show him some reassurance and remorse for what I did, and I was just hanging out there doing nothing. Maybe he was right, I wasn’t mentally prepared to give him what he asked for. So the fights just got worse.  One night he called me “a piece of shit”.

Providentially, I received a call from work. One of the Techs was going on vacation so they offered me some extra hours at the hospital, lots of hours. I took every minute I could on the schedule, wishing that making IVs and TPNs, restocking drugs in the Acudose machines, and billing for the OR medications would keep my mind distracted. It was a great excuse to be away from home and its heavy atmosphere, which was draining all the life out of my soul. Besides, my husband’s business wasn’t doing well and we were struggling with money. So, not minding sacrificing my lazy days tanning by the pool in the backyard while watching Nathan swim like a dolphin, I got on my scrubs and went to work.

I used the commuting time to Orange County to think and to pray. I listened to Hillsong United’s “From the Inside Out” over and over, and had long conversations with God. I cried thousands of tears of despair and one day I even rolled down my window driving on the freeway and screamed all my frustrations out. I felt relieved.

I’ve always talked to God the way I talked to my dad when he was alive: close, intimately, never feeling judged. So I asked Him for a miraculous sign that will show me if He really wanted me to save my marriage or if He could allow me to give up. I knew the answer from scripture, which says that God hates divorce. It was kind of a rhetorical question, but I thought I’d ask anyway, just in case I was missing something.

I couldn’t explain it, but I just had this strange feeling that my life was about to dramatically change and that I needed to see beyond the evident. But I couldn’t get a grip of what was about to happen. All I could sense was that I needed to wait and trust Him. And the wait was too painful; I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to endure the accusations and the blame that my husband was pouring over me.

I also used my commute time to pray for Matthew, I knew he was lonely and I couldn’t be there for him. I asked God to help me figure out why was I was feeling so empty ever since I’ve stopped talking to him.  I didn’t understand why he hadn’t replied to the e-mail that I've sent from the secret account.  I felt so restless all the sudden thinking of him.

“God, what’s this feeling? It feels so right; it can’t be just some kind of trick from Satan to make me fall. Can it? Why do I miss him so much? Will I ever see him again?”

 I pondered that for a while, as I started to smell the ocean breeze from the freeway.  The sun was rising and I could spot its magnificence from my rear view mirror.  The ocean ahead of me filled my heart with peace for a minute. I smiled remembering Matthew’s eyes and a ray of hope shone on the mirror, blinding me for a second.

“Life’s full or surprises and our lives can change so much and so quickly anyway.” I whispered to myself.  I kept asking God more questions, like a little kid asking a father, never giving up until getting the answer I wanted to hear. I just wanted to know if it was in His divine plan that our souls will find each other again, someday…

He didn’t answer that question, at least I couldn’t hear the answer yet, but He did tell me to stay in my marriage and trust Him. And I said I’d obey.

Finding the Signs

Slide - The Goo Goo Dolls

Being obedient wasn’t easy at all. Working at the hospital was supposed to keep my mind occupied, so that I wouldn’t be thinking about the chaos in my marriage, and how much I missed Matthew, but it seemed like everything was trying to bring him back to my mind, all the time.

A nurse named Matthew Stewart came three times to the Pharmacy because he was having problems logging on to the Acudose machines. Every time he came to the pharmacy window, I had to hear his name and every time, I thought about my Matthew and something hurt in my chest. Later, when I was running an Acudose report for the previous day, the name Victoria Matthews showed up on the first page of the report and Mark Gonzales on the third one. This time I could feel my eyes starting to get moist and I had to make an unnatural effort to keep the tears inside my eyes. Was this some kind of joke?

Then I realized I had picked the wrong fictitious name for Matthew. I’ve chosen Mark, because it’s also a gospel name, I just moved on to the next one. Not very creative, but I couldn’t expect much from my depreciated brain these days. Now Mark was also following me at work, and I just kept wondering why I haven’t gotten an e-mail form him.

Matthew and Mark were both everywhere. Since Mark is also a verb, I almost fainted when one of the pharmacists asked me to mark the expiring medications with some colored stickers. And of course, he was in the hospital census: there was a Mark Roberts, who happened to be the patient with the most IV’s. So every time I labeled them, I had to take a deep breath. Even my cell phone asked me if I wanted my e-mails to be marked as unread! Ugh! How was I supposed to forget if everything was screaming his name? Was this the sign I have asked for?

I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to find out. I wrote a second e-mail:

Dear Matt,

Did you ever get my previous e-mail from this account?
I know you probably want to stay away from me and I understand. I'm very sorry about all this mess. I hope you're not feeling the way I am.
I've been feeling kind of sick, I guess this is what people that are addicted to drugs or medication feel like (withdrawal symptoms: lethargy, fast heartbeat, nausea, etc). I walk around like a zombie, and try not to think about you, but sometimes I just want to run to a pay phone and call you.
It's been very hard. Larry is trying to be patient, but he keeps bringing up the subject and gets very frustrated with me. He expects me to beg for forgiveness and sometimes he's very sarcastic and I get very angry. I feel he's being unfair and manipulating. He's also trying really hard to revive the passion, but I can't get close to him. I don't know what's wrong with me. We're going to counseling next week; I hope that will help.
Right now I'm not sure what's going to happen. I just feel like running home, to Peru, and be with my family that really loves me and I miss so much, now more than ever.
I don't want you to feel like any of this is your fault, I think we were both lonely and found each other in a very vulnerable place. I really miss you, you made me feel like in high school again ;-)
I'd love to hear from you but if I'm being toxic I totally understand. 
Besotes,
Isa

This time the response didn’t make me wait. I got two e-mails from Matthew. In the first one, he explained:

“I saw your previous e-mail but then I saw the next one saying that you could never see me again. I assumed that meant that I wasn't to communicate with you ever. I don't want to be part of breaking up your marriage…”

As I kept reading I felt alive again. He even made me laugh with his jokes, but the feelings that he poured on those two e-mails just modeled that close connection that we already had, even stronger. He told me how he felt when he discovered that his wife was leaving him for another man. He understood what Larry was doing because he had been in his shoes. I got chills when I realized the ironic situation.

I felt his pain as I read those two e-mails, but I also sensed his excitement, and he confessed that he had missed me. We were enjoying our new way of communication and I was starting to breath again.

I had a day off, and with the new energy that I had received from those e-mails, I decided it was time to go to my favorite place: the beach.

Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone with Nextel Direct Connect

Reading the Signs

Creed - Higher

The sun showed up early on my window. I had slept a lot better since I heard from Matthew again, and the idea of going to the beach filled me with good energy. I stretched and jumped out of my bed to get ready for my beach day. I wanted to get there early and beat the traffic. I went to wake Nathan up, but he was already awake, playing with his Legos.

“Ready for some fun in the sun?” I asked him trying to walk through the Bionicle battlefield.

“Yes! He smiled my favorite smile and his big brown eyes sparkled with excitement. “Can we have breakfast? I’m starved!”

“Sure, how about some breakfast burritos, fresh squeezed orange juice and a big kiss form your mom?”

“Yum! He stretched his raspberry lips to kiss mine. “That was delicious!” I squeezed him in my arms and felt the biggest love in the world.

“I’ll beat you downstairs” I challenged, but before I could run over the Lego arena, he pulled my pajama tops and sprinted ahead of me, giggling loudly. I ran after him but couldn’t catch up. When I got downstairs there was a book on the floor, staring at me: “Sam’s letters to Jennifer” by James Patterson. It was one of the books I had borrowed from my mother in law when I helped her move from Chicago. She had given me a box of books and I was going through them slowly. I picked the book up and it occurred to me that it had to be a sign and I needed to take it to the beach and read it. I wondered how it had ended up on the floor, maybe the cats had climbed on the shelf and knocked it down, but the way it was perfectly positioned for me at the bottom of the stairs just felt like an epiphany.

“Mom, c’mon! I’ve been here for an hour” I heard Nathan’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Coming!” I shouted back, hugging the book against my chest, certain now that it was intended for me to read.

 

The heat was intense in Oceanside, but there was a cool breeze blowing, making it an ideal day for a run. Nathan quickly found some friends and was busy building a fort when I told him what my plan was.

“Just don’t go in the ocean until I’m back”, I warned him, fixing my hat.

“Fine”, he didn’t even look back at me, so I picked the running playlist on my ipod and headed south. I smiled watching the seagulls fly away as I ran closer to them, splashing around the shore.  I looked at my footprints on the wet sand being washed away by the chilly water.  I closed my eyes for a few seconds to enjoy the peace of the moment, which I had not been able to find in the last few weeks. I knew the endorphins were starting to flow in my brain when I reached my high, a kind or running orgasm. For a few minutes I had completely dissociated myself from all the drama and connected with my soul.

I went on for two miles and then ran back to find Nathan waiting for me with his boogie board, looking impatient.

“Finally! He protested with a frown.

“Oh c’mon, grumpy, it wasn’t that long”. I took my hat off, threw my sunglasses and the ipod inside, and sat it on the dry sand. Then I took my shorts off and covered the hat with them. Nathan was already in the water when I tried to catch up with him.

The water was refreshing and the waves were playful and gentle. I allowed them to embrace me for a while, completely relaxed, but suddenly the memory of the book came to my mind and I quickly got out, shaking the water of my head.

I picked up my hat and my shorts and went back to my towel, perfectly positioned next to the lifeguards, snuggly and warm, ready for me to lie down and read.

Once I started, I couldn’t put the book down. When I got into the part of Sam’s affair, I knew that I’ve been right about it being a sign. I paused for a while to reflect on the story, gazing at the ocean, when I saw Nathan's head, way too far in the ocean and drifting toward the pier. I jumped to my feet and ran, telling myself what a horrible mother I was. Two lifeguards had already reached him and he was coming out, fearless.

I hugged him tight, “are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine”, he said calmly.

“Were you freaking out? Cuz I was!”

“No, I was fine”, he repeated, unperturbed.“Where’s your boogie board?”

“Oh, I left it there, I just wanted to swim without it”, he pointed at the white and blue board laying on the sand, next to what was left of the fort, after the water collided on it.

I hugged him again and sighed. “Please, don’t ever do this again. I love you so much and I’d die if something happens to you.”

“Sorry.” He looked down with sheepish eyes.

“Let’s go get some shaved ice and a sandwich” I tried to cheer him up.

“Okay!” He shrugged and showed me a crooked smile. We walked back to our towels dragging the boogie board, and sat there for a while, until my heart came back to my  chest. Nathan had picked up my ipod and was listening to Breaking Benjamin and enjoying the sun. I took some money out of my wallet and handed it to Nathan. He walked to the Shaved Ice stand and came back with a huge cone. I took a ham and cheese sandwich out of my bag and tossed it to him.

Now that Nathan was safe I could keep on reading. Sam’s story was starting to sound like my story. I read about the night Samantha and Doc kissed for the first time, and when she got back home, his husband was sleeping and she wondered, “Would he notice that while he slept, I’d become happy?

Then it struck me and I felt palpitations on my chest. I’ve become happy after Matthew and I started communicating using the secret e-mail address. Would Larry notice that I’d become happy while he slept?