Letting Go...

The past is almost inescapably. No matter how much time passes or how much we may want to forget, it's always there. Our past. A semi constant reminder of who we used to be. Or thought we were.

Now and then it is brought to our attention the our past wasn't quite the way we remember it. What may seem true to one person could be complete fantasy to another.

Apparently much of my past was fantasy. I have a hard time separating fantasy from reality and, that when making a desision that involves me personally, I may have a problem with right and wrong. And no matter how much time passes I will most likely always be a lousy communicator. I'm not anymore special than anyone else.

Tonight we spoke about splitting. Was there anything worth trying to save. Who would get Mr. Man. What we would do after. What the other person would do. It turns out we don't know one another very well at all and neither of us are very good communicators.

With all of the problems we have been having it was something new that brought up this talk.

This time it was all me. I did something amazingly asinine. I have no excuses. Just an other example of me sabotaging my life and not thinking about what I'm doing until it's too late. Sadly this part of my past is very accurate.

It seemed innocent at the time. I didn't think about how she might feel about it. It was a betrayal on my part. Instead of telling her how I felt I chose to tell someone else.

I turned my back on my best friend. My lover. My wife. My Precious. I put our entire history and our future at risk over something that I barely gave a thought. In my mind I knew it didn't mean anything. We were venting. Counseling. Playing. It wasn't something I took seriously. But it was very serious to Precious.

I didn't give her the credit or the respect she deserves and I hurt her badly. I am a complete and total ass.

She and Mr. Man are all that have ever mattered to me and I risked losing over someone I barely know.

I think it's about time for me to let go of my past. Remember it for what it was. A series of unfortunate events that I have embellished over the years to make me look good or feel better about being ass. I'm not any better. I'm not so much smarter. I'm not entitled to any more than I work for. It's not all about me.


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