Everything Changes

When Anne and I sat down for our first conversation after her confession, I warned her that everything she said and did from now on would be seen in context with her infidelity. For some reason, I find myself somewhat surprised by just how true that statement is turning out to be.
Our old marriage ended on Christmas night, but our relationship didn’t. We have all of our old memories, and looking at old photos of happier times served us well in remembering what we had risked, lost, and wanted to get back, but we also will carry the memories that can trip us up at times. We have lost our innocence, and that is both good and bad. The sense of comfort and security that lead us both to take each other for granted will be missed even as it helps us to appreciate each other more.
In my last post, I mentioned the flirty texts we have been exchanging. These have continued, and by the end of the day, I can’t wait to see her, but as we exchanged texts, troubling questions would pop up in my mind. She was using “:-*” to send me kisses. When I saw the first one, I couldn’t help but wonder where they had come from. It seemed unlikely that she had picked this up from her girlfriends. Had her “old friend” taught her this? While not exactly a nagging thought, it is still on my mind today. When she came home, I caught her and kissed her passionately. Even as I was enjoying her reaction, the thought crept in that, perhaps, if I had kissed her this way before, she might not have strayed. The past is a funny thing. It can’t be changed, but it colors everything. Every significant event in our past impacts our future. These impacts will be both good and bad. The trick is to build on the good, while limiting the effects of the bad. Anne and I are walking a tightrope. We don’t want to forget enough to repeat our pat mistakes, but we also don’t want to let our past cloud our future to the point that it tears us apart. Nothing we do now is insignificant anymore. That fact is a mixed blessing.
Keep us in your prayers,
Don