When my husband died, my love for him remained, but I also learned to love anew.
There were times I found myself crying on my new guy's shoulder because my husband wasn't there and I missed him terribly. Confusing for me? Yes, but also for him. I don't know what he must have thought, time and time again, as he watched me cry, knowing he couldn't take that pain away.
Then, there's the fact that if my husband were here, I wouldn't be crying on his shoulder in the first place. I wouldn't be with him at all. And I sensed what a struggle that was for him, consoling me with "I'm so sorry he's gone" and at the same time knowing that he wouldn't be with me if he were. Here is this woman he loves sitting right in front of him crying over another man!
The beauty is he understands that my love didn't die with my husband ... but that's exactly where my confusion comes in. I remember the moment I became consciously aware that I was in love with two men at the same time. I felt ashamed and contemplated my guilt with a stream of questions to help rationalize it all: How can I love two men at the same time? Is this even possible? Is this wrong? Is this really love or is it just sex and a warm body? What will people think? Am I bad? I don't even know what to call this. Is there a name for this?
I knew that the thoughts in my head were going to get me nowhere fast. One by one, I began to answer my questions. So, is it really possible to love 2 men at the same time?
Well, I'm feeling it, so it must be possible, right? Well, almost. We can tell our minds a lot of crap that we want to believe because it satisfies us in some way even if it keeps us "LAQing." I had to dig deeper.
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