Hopping

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I saw and old friend last night, a woman I used to climb with before she changed her life to make her work more of a priority.  She’s doing really well, and it was great to see her.

She spent the night, and she helped me see how much depressed my husband is.  I’ve been so busy wallowing in my own sadness and guilt that I haven’t been able to see how sad he is, too.  I mean, of course he’s sad, but I didn’t want to recognize the extent of it because it’s just something else that hurts. It’s not all about me.

I didn’t tell her about having a lover, not because she wouldn’t understand and accept it, I think, but because I needed her to see that the problems I have with my husband are independent of whoever else I might be seeing. I’m not leaving my husband for the ex-cop, although the fact of his existence in my life makes it easier to leave.  But I’m not planning on changing anything with my lover.  In the natural progression of things, we might actually do something beside hopping into bed as soon as we see each other, eventually. For the moment, I’m happy with the hopping,

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