Danger
Dan, Brenna, Shawna, Eric and Marian, March 1999 at Lake Fletcher
Tomorrow afternoon I'll meet my ex for coffee. Not my ex-wife. The Ex. All exes since were attempts to exorcise my longing.
I first saw Dan one evening in November 1996. Approaching a meeting room, I glimpsed him passing the doorway. My jaw dropped. I don't know what it was, but I got stung, and the pang has never left. He was an ex-preacher. Maybe he needed my adoration and I needed his charisma. He moved in with me that New Year's Eve.
I was not responsible enough for him. Ironically, his hero was Patsy Stone. He was only cruel when he left, but we broke up three times. Maybe he thought I would shape up. Maybe he couldn't stay away. Finally I decided it was over.
Since April 1999 we have exchanged email occasionally. He dropped by once, four years ago in June.
Why am I putting myself through this?
Because I want to. Like an ex-smoker who still craves a puff 20 years later. My mind can't let go of the memory of being penetrated that way and utterly absorbed. If he took the lid off the well, I might fall in. Believing he will not, I go.