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.

It is not so much that it ended. Logically I accept that. It is waking up every day anew having to relive the emotional trauma that my best days are behind me. That I had my moment, my glory. I die a thousand times. I feel the loss of her leaving and closing the curtain on that moment. I am tired of dying inside every day.

I simultaneously want to recapture that glory and hope to god I never do. I live in turmoil because that means the moment exists in someway. The torture is proof it was uniquely singular and powerful. Not just in my life but the world.

I live only in the hopes that I see her one last time and die in her arms

I covered the pan handle northern utah. An unaffiliated hospice chaplain from wyoming that got ran off from the Lutheran church making sure the spiritual needs of predominantly Mormon people were met. My territory was officially Davis, Weber and box elder counties. At times I helped cover cache, heber, summit and salt lake. I estimate in my time as a chaplain I helped over 2000 patients and families at the end of life.

I visited before they died on death calls, in homes and hospitals. Nursing abilities assisted livings. In the best neighborhood and the worst. In trailers with no heat.

I felt alive. I was in love and death was always near by reminding me it was always possible. I had purpose battling a mortal enemy

I took pride I. Telling people what I did and who I was. I guest preached at churches and taught about hospice. I was fully proud and realized

The book I poured over and read during my happy time was graham greenes the power and the glory. I guess in a lot of ways I lived the story. I related to the priest

I read it so much I know it by heart. Not much that will surprise me. Not sure why I brought this up

Am I seeking salvation?

I never got to say goodbye to her. There was no ending. I don’t think that would have mattered. It might be best. What can you say at the end that makes it alright?

Sometimes a song, a fleeting thought will punch my emotions.

I realize I have experienced a pure peer text love and that it has passed and is gone. I was watching a music video and the song, the artist who had passed away made me miss the WIL so intensely

Usually I can cope. Actually no, it happens more nights than not

It all seems so neat when I lay it out on a couple of paragraphs. There was so much turmoil. Children involved

Her husband found out much later. I don’t even know how he found out. She told me he knew. He sent me a couple of threatening text messages. She tried to call me and the. Nothing.

My wife asked me what I would do if she called or said she is leaving her husband. I finally faced reality and said I would go and be with the WIL. I left the house for a month then later my wife moved out.

I look at everything I wrote today. There is no depth or discovery. I skim thoughts and ideas for barely a minute then call it good. I am a hollow shell

When I was a chaplain I on vacation I used be excited about going back to work. I would check my messages and stay involved. I wanted to know what was going on and how things were progressing. I missed my compatriots. I longed to see friends and colleagues. I was a part of something. Believing I was the best in my field. I miss brash confidence