The weekends are very bad. I get restless. With nothing to do I usually resort to drinking. Drinking used to open up a world of possibility. Now it just is a distraction to kill a few hours. When I drink my guard starts to come down. I want to connect with someone, flirt or more. Sex itself is not necessarily the only outcome. Often it is not. But talking with someone about sex is alluring. It creates a Chenicak rush

This weekend there is football. I usually have some drinks so I assume I will again.

I was thinking I would be tempted to reach out to people but I think I am more inclined to want to date someone. I am a secretive person. I hide what I am doing all the time. I’m even if it isn’t lurid. Not hiding shit is starting to feel liberating. I spent so much time loving the wife of someone else. We were each other’s secrets. That was powerful but after a while it became a burden not a blessing.

When you are bored in your marriage and wanting something new discovering somebody, being validated is intoxicating. it was this beautiful gift only her and I shared. But toward the end I became more frustrated we couldn’t share it. Then her his I and found out and she disappeared.

I go over my thoughts about that all the time. Is she indifferent and I didn’t mean much to her? Is she heartbroken like I am? Is she mad thinking I got away with no consequence while she is bearing the burden herself?

When I think she is heartbroken my resolve is strong to wait no matter how long. Same with if she is mad. But when I imagine her forgetting me or indifferent to what we were I collapse inside.

I won’t reach out to someone tonight, tomorrow or this weekend. Simply because I don’t want to be secretive any more. And I don’t want shallow or superficial. If I am going to have sex with someone again it is going to be because I have feelings for them and I want to express them. I would date someone.

That means actually getting a divorce and releasing my wife and letting go of the WIL.

Even if I could escape and find somewhere to go. Someplace safe or easier my arrogance would soon have me looking to risk again

After seminary I returned to my hometown. I started working part tome and doing another clinical education at the state hospital. That became my first job. I had met my wife at a mutual friends wedding in Santa Barbara California. She lived in Los Angeles county. I was still in paradise. We communicated over phone and long distance. We got engaged, she wa able to move to wyoming with her California job and salary. After four months I got my job ar the hospital. We got married. With both our salaries and little financial obligations we were doing good the fist years of our marriage.

I went to seminary in Berkeley California. Did my pastoral internship in paradise California. My cross cultural experience as they called it in the Navajo nation in rock point Arizona. I completed my clinical pastoral education at at Mark’s hospital in Salt Lake City utah.

After four years I graduated with a masters in divinity, an mdiv and no call. The lierrhan church was not interested in me or my attitude. That is a story for another time

Midland senior year. Common area. A professor I took classes from in New Testament Greek and logic tells me there is a representative from his seminary on campus.

A couple years ago my sophomore year I thought about the ministry but never seriously. My dad was a Lutheran minister. Church was always there. I more or less went. Habit more than passion.

I was 22. A senior in college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Seminary was four more years of school. Better than nothing. I signed up

My dad was excited. I was going to be his legacy. He spent the summer making me go up in his study for hours reading books. I resented him for it. But something happened during that time.

I became confident. Confeodnet that I was the best seminarian. That how I looked at life, theology, ministry was best. My dad always seemed right. He was always respected. I had a floating arrongance I embraced.

I wish I could find a narrative I liked. It is hard to get excited playing the role of a 48 soon to be 49 year old man. Not many great options

My best isn’t good enough. I have tried and failed. But I can’t give up. I don’t know what surrender looks like. I don’t know how to rearrange my life and do something else. Ibiilt this life in California on the notion I was or would grow to be a strong hospice executive.

Fuck at this rate I am going to have 15 jobs in fifteen years. The nimbers are staggering

I feel like I am getting my narrative back. That I am owning me again. I long for rebirth. I love Dana point but I need a new perspective

I lost my virginity when I was 18. Or the first time I had sexual intercourse with a woman was 18. I was a senior in high school. She was a class mate and a co worker. We were doing dishes in the back of a pizza parlor. talking about sex. We were friends and I asked her how she thought I would be. She offered to find out.

I had a couple girlfriends in high school but no sex. In college I had my first girlfriend that we regularly had sex.

I had another girlfriend in seminary before I met my wife. All told there were a handful of other women that didn’t amount to much. A couple one nighters, Some petting, groping oral sex

Am I a resourceful survivor doing what it takes? or am I a fail clown beating his head against the wall?

I am the bad guy in this story. You will not think highly of me when you are finished. You will sympathize with the people I hurt and bemoan the way I acted. I dully acknowledge I am embarrassed and apologize to the people I hurt. Most notably my wife who put up with more than she should. The husband of the woman I love. I apologize to everyone this story will shock came from me. The people that will be uncomfortable by my behavior and revelations.