January 30, 2010

The Littlest Birds

Something Blue

I can't erase the image of your fingers, wedding band catching the light, flat against the floor as you rise. Your wife below. And then as quickly as I caught the secret shadow of your lust, it is gone.

And you return to being just a man in a room full of men, teaching us the power of violence.


January 03, 2010



Define that in the world we live in. It seems like a simple enough task. ``To be unfaithful.`` Yes. It would appear so.

But now apply that to a relationship where the normal bounds are not easily defined to square edges. Where coloring outside the lines is seen as liberation from the normal day to day ideas of what is this and what is that.

Now infidelity is not so neat and tidy.

Love is an absolute. I can not like you. I can decide that your behaviour is bad. That there must be consequences... but I never stop loving. In that is the most painful reality. To be hurt by the one you love the most. Can it be forgiven... this is now the definition we need to write.

I have never faced this set of questions, this particular coloring book. Instead I have been lost in the dizzying array of colors, the scent of the crayons, and the rainbow of possibility. I have pushed for J to be as free, to be as creative, and somehow we forgot that even this liberty has boundaries.

We will be fine. More than fine.

But the question still lingers... what is infidelity in an open relationship. A debate that we will muddle through over the next coming days.

But my heart is bruised. I was angry. I was sad. I assisted in creating this mess. I gave permission to the one I love to wave that knife around and stab it into me. Oh the drama. (I actually laughed typing that.) Honestly, I am hurt. More by the recklessness with which my love lost sight of what was important.

Damn little head.

And so we move forward. There has to be forgiveness regardless of the questions. It is what we do when we color outside the lines.