In the queen sized bed with the flannel sheets and the fluffy pillows, I lay
beside Keri.  She was snoring.  I was on the verge of crying.  We had finished
a near marathon session of love making not fifteen minutes before, and I was
near tears.  I snuggled closer to Keri, and instinctively she pulled closer to
me.  I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed my eyes shut.  I wanted to be
happy.  I should be happy.  I was not.
<br>
<br>
Keri's snoring became louder, and I slowly slid to the edge of the bed and
tiptoed out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.  The microwave clock,
in all of its green glory had just turned over to 3:17.  I walked over to the
olive green colored refrigerator and grabbed what was left of the leftover
meatloaf.  I put the whole deal into the microwave for two and one half
minutes.
<br>
<br>
As the green numbers on the microwave went backwards, one second at a time, I
tried to convince myself that I was being a selfish prick.  One can not be
lonely, while also being married and in love.  But here it was, at 3:17 in the
morning, overrunning my mind.  One I was lonely.  Two I was married.  Three, I
was in love.  This, I had debated for weeks, no months, in my mind.  In the
end though, I had to admit that I loved her with all my heart.  Once I let
that happen, the feelings of being selfish crept in.
<br>
<br>
I couldn't ignore the facts though.  I was three states that shouldn't
coexist and it was making me miserable.  If I had not loved her, or if we had
not been married, I might have just ditched the whole shebang.  I was deluding
myself, though.  I had to do something.  Destroying the marriage, through infidelity was and option, a last resort, but still an option.  My teeth clenched together.  What was I thinking.  Divorce, because I'm too chickenshit to tell the woman I love, and adore that I'm lonely?  Not only was it silly, it was downright
patronising.
<br><br>
The microwave let out a beep.  I stood, just for a second, wondering, and then
remembering that I had been waiting for the meatloaf to reheat.  I shuffled
over to the counter, pushed the latch and placed the back of my hand on the
steaming meatloaf.  Warm, but not hot.  I pulled the container out quickly,
feeling the stored heat in the plastic container, before dropping it carefully
on the counter.  I went to the silverware drawer, grabbed a fork.  I went to
the shelf above the toaster and grabbed a plate to place the bowl onto.
<br>
<br>
I shuffled off to the dinette, and sat down at the small table.  I was three
bites into the first slice of meatloaf when I looked up and saw Keri standing
in front of me.  She asked why I was down here, eating, alone.  I swallowed.
I started to create yet another lie, another half truth to add to the pile.
This time though, I just couldn't.  The lies and the silence and the
everything had grown to big.  I reached far down into my soul, and found what
I had lost years ago.  Courage to let it all out.
<br>
<br>
"We need to talk, about us, about everything."  I expected anger, or worse.
Instead she nodded, sat down, and we began.