Two minds. Two men. But just one man that matters, my own blood, the man who’s too young to understand the situation.
What happened to my fear of God? What happened to my consience? It seems like it’s easier to ignore the consquences and turn mute on what my inner voice is saying. And when I do try to find out what I really want, I can’t get to the answer. I’ll justify what I do, then go on the guilt trip because I know I can’t continue.
I’ve been called a cheater, disrespectful, heartbreaker. And he’s right. He’s also right for not believing me anymore when I say sorry, when I say I won’t do it anymore. He’s right. No matter how bad or tough the marriage is, it doesn’t justify my actions to look for someone else outside. Even though it was never my intention, even though I never expected to fall in love, even though we’ve never even seen each other on the physical realm.
It hurts me, that I hurt him, and myself in return. Part of me longs for something he can’t give me, part of me doesn’t want to lose him. I’ve conformed myself to him for such a long time, that it feels I’ve lost myself in the process. And that’s where I compromised my faith.