all right i have a husband. its what happens when one gets married. its no ones fault, just an occupational hazard. lets get this out of the way, i love my husband. straight up he's the best man in the entire world and i love him. we have always just fit together. comfortably and warmly and if i was 35 and straight that would be all i would need for the rest of my life. i thought it was all that i needed now. that is why i married my husband. i love him, he was perfect for me, i wanted to share a life with him. and at the time i honestly thought love would be enough to fight my attraction towards women. sadly some people just can't handle having a gay spouse who wants to pursue relationships with the same sex outside of matrimony. which is cool and totally understandable. but not right for me. i've come to realize that women set me on fire in a way that men have never been able to do. yeah i've been crazy for guys, but women i worship. all of them, not just some of them.
it was hard enough being married for so short a time and then realizing you just couldn't do it anymore and then coming out. in a completely foreign country living a pretty shitty life and then your wife tells you she's gay and just wants to go the fuck home. it was pretty heartbreaking and destructive. it gets complicated when you try to think how much guilt you should carry and how much you actually need to move on. my sexuality and my coming out is wrought with failure and shame, actually made worse by the fact that everyone that matters seems to be taking it rather well. which i truly appreciate no lie. you are all amazing people and thank you so much for not letting me drown in this in silence.
the worst of it though, living with your husband in another country. its...awkward. because i am actively researching, studying and discussing my sexuality. but you know on my own. in secret. our life together is ending and it just doesn't seem real. i ache for his comfort, how easily i relax around him and how we can still joke around, even now. how much hurt can one person endure? and how much more should they go through? it becomes this tug of war game between celebrating and helping pick up the pieces. tip toeing around because you know this is so much pain. there are open wounds that can't heal and we're still sleeping in the same bed. this is the worst time in both of our lives, but theres this palpable feeling that while his life is ending mine is only just beginning. it is the type of guilt that drags on your very bones.
but you know what it doesn't effect? my feeling towards women. not tarnished in the least. i'm somersaulting over the graces, charms and down right irresistible qualities of my own sex.
so yes i do cry, i carry guilt, i feel heavy shame. all the awfulness of what this is and feeling like a failure and a fool and having to come back home to start over sucks ass. but i can withstand this. because ladies, you are worth it. every single one of you with your coy smiles and bell like laughter, you are so fucking worth it.