Listening for Your Stories of Love
June 17, 2011 10:03 AM Subscribe
Are there those out there in the e-community who would be willing to share their stories of love lost/found, promises made/kept/broken, relationships abandoned/nurtured, difficult choices avoided/made and lived through, from which I/we could draw wisdom and inspiration? I thank you for reading my story, and listen forward to hearing yours.
Dear Collective Wisdom,
My Story:
About two years ago my then-seven-year-old second marriage began to falter, slowly at first, but the downward momentum increased. For a variety of reasons, we grew farther apart as time passed, ending up in summer 2010 at a place where things were—at best—merely occasionally comfortable. At its worst, I was very unhappy even being in the house, and my wife was uncomfortable having me there, frequently expressing her thoughts that I was an undesirable person. Also in the house are her two sons, both teenagers, and there were difficulties on that front (funny how that always seems to happen with teenagers who aren’t cryogenically frozen!). She suggested I take a long (3-4 week) trip to see my parents and pursue my creative work.
My wife is a good person and partner: Warm, funny and fun, gracious (but not elegant), attractive (but not sexy to me), thoughtful, intelligent (but not intellectual), curious (but not always accepting of aesthetic challenges), caring, supportive, engaged with her community. After years of feeling that she could assemble a similar kind of list about me, the compliments faded, and more and more were replaced by negative feedback about who I am. I suppose I began to become that person she saw, through that strange kind of feedback loop that such deep relationships can create. We no longer connected as well on so many levels, and the chasm of our differences seemed to grow, if not in size, in importance. She later admitted that one reason she suggested that I take such a long stay away is that she needed a break from me.
As fate would have it, earlier in the summer I met a woman who almost immediately began to move me very deeply; indeed, I began to fall in love. We share(ed) many common interests and backgrounds as academic-trained musicians. Swept up in a powerful wave of resonance with this beautiful, fiercely intelligent, deeply humorous, warm and funny, secure and grounded, probing and reflective, profoundly musical and aesthetically attuned woman, I crossed a line I had never crossed with a spouse before: I had an affair. Then I made what I suppose is the classic error: I confessed the affair to my wife rather soon afterwards, feeling that honesty was more important than the pain I imagined this would cause. We hacked it around during several very difficult weeks. Later that summer, during my long stay away, I felt that I needed to go see the other woman in her own city (we had met in yet a third state), to “make her real” and see whether my heart was simply overcome with the giddiness of infatuation. The quick visit was filled with anxiety for me (on top of the thrill), and did serve to make her a bit more realistic and true-to-life, but my basic feelings of attraction to this woman were unswayed. Yet the surrounding facts danced uneasily through my mind: Hurting my wife, abandoning stepchildren I had known for nine years, surrendering the known for the “danger” of the unknown, destabilizing my life, risking a future filled with regret (which cut both ways, of course), the unforeseen difficulties of navigating a relationship with someone significantly chronologically younger (which was never a source of male pride for me, but actually of trepidation), etc.
*** Skip to below if you don’t care to read all of this detail ***
In August I moved out of my house at my wife’s request and into an apartment in the downtown of our city. In many ways I was excited to take this step and discover that my ability to take risks had not vanished with age. But I found myself becoming overwrought with sadness when my wife drove off after declaring that we were done. She came back, though, and we continued to see one another several times a week over dinner at the house. I decided in mid-September that I should cancel a planned trip to see the other woman, discerning somewhere in my gut that I had to disentangle my navigation of our failing marriage from any attempt at fostering a budding relationship with another. That was a tough call to make, but I did feel some relief afterwards. The evening that I would have been stepping off the plane and greeting her, though, I wept and sobbed with a depth I had not experienced in many years.
Shortly after that I fell into deep depression. I spent much of the fall numb even to beauty of any kind, and drifted through daily life like a ghost. My wife offered support, which I welcomed as much as anyone depressed can welcome anything. I was diagnosed with mild-to-moderate major depressive disorder (meaning, in short, that it’s chronic, if episodic, and not necessarily linked to external events). On suspicion that it’s connected to my mild seizure disorder, I was prescribed a new medicine, which has worked wonders over the winter and spring.
In late January I wrote to the other woman and told her that I needed to “let her go” so that I could learn once and for all whether my feelings and relationship with my wife had any hope of surviving, whether she and I could learn once again to find delight in life together, and whether we had really explored things properly before we decided to call it quits. And I knew I could not do that while keeping another woman “in the wings” (let alone it being a very sh---y and manipulative thing to try to do!). Pressing send on that letter was one of the toughest moments of my life! We have had no form of communication since.
Having made it through the spring in fairly good form, living back at the house wife my wife and step kids, I nevertheless noticed that my thoughts were frequently occupied with the other woman, but figured that was natural given the power of the experience. I kept that to myself, though, and was nonetheless committed to determine whether my marriage still had enough root structure to survive, and I figured that with time the power of the memories would fade. We spent lots of time talking head-on about the issues we face, and also carved out as best we could time for fun activities together. Our relationship was caring and affectionate, but rarely sexual.
Then earlier this month I travelled to see old friends who happen to live in the same state in which I had met my new love. I found the experience staggeringly powerful. At the airport, my head snapped involuntarily around to every person to see whether it was she, and my thoughts were taken over by memories of and hopes for seeing and being with her. One evening, my friend said that when his wife of 32+ years walks into the room, it still lights up for him. This caused me to leave the room sobbing spontaneously.
While I was away, my wife felt very “distanced” from me, despite our talking almost every day on the phone, and daily by text, and my trying mightily to avoid giving any sign of distress. My homecoming was anything but a celebration. I was determined not to expose my thoughts, since our outward, mutual focus needs to be the pain and mistrust she is rightly feeling, yet when she questioned me repeatedly I admitted vaguely that the cyclical return to (nearly) the same place and time of year brought back memories more powerfully than I had expected. She took this very badly.
Yesterday, after a tough week together, my wife requested that I move back to the downtown apartment, where now I sit writing this set of confessions. She seems, at least at this moment, to have lost all faith that there’s hope for us.
*** Resume reading if you skipped the middle portion ***
Many Questions:
Clearly I have not let go of the other woman, or at least of the idea(l)s she represents. But more than that, I miss her, or at least as much of her as I know. I wonder what my life would be if she were in it. We resonate(d), and I ask myself: Would that resonance have a profoundly positive influence on my life? Would I be happier and more in the creative flow in that resonant space? Would I be a better partner for it? At the very least, should I take the risk and find out if she is still willing to explore the relationship to learn whether or not it’s got a long-term future?
If I do not pursue that relationship, or if she is no longer interested, can I ever truly let go of the other woman, or will she always be there, wending through my being like some glorious contrapuntal thread? Is it right for me (and I have no religious convictions of any kind) to end my marriage to seek greater happiness from without, when in fact that may be a misdirected path? Is it right for me to stay in a marriage that seems not to offer either of us enough sustenance? Can I rebuild trust with my wife, and build on the solid base we have from the past and forge a good future, if not an “ideal” one? Is it right for me to stay with my wife when she doesn’t have “all of me?” If I do stay with her, is it out of wisdom and hope, or bad faith covering up a fear of risk?
Things I Know About Myself:
1. I feel strongly bound to honor my promises if they don’t expose me to harm or destruction (no doubt because the abandonment of such deeply encoded behaviors runs counter to our “ethical” instincts as a social species).
2. I am loath to cause pain in another living being. (I have been known to pull off the road to rescue a mosquito from my windshield.)
3. I take my responsibilities as “caretaker/tender” (not to be read in a conservative sense of the man as provider) in my many roles in life very seriously, and don’t like to walk away from difficulty.
4. I draw energy and inspiration from being surrounded by fellow creative artists and intellectuals, and the thought of having a life partner who is both is very powerful (especially since so much of my life as a musician is spent alone in composing and practicing).
5. I am energized by being with others who engage in life in a deeply aesthetic way, and celebrate our all-too-human acts of seducing ourselves to embracing life through the frames we construct.
6. I am moving towards a career shift, away from teaching full-time and towards having creative work more central to my work days/nights, despite my practical fears (see below).
7. As a performing musician I love taking risks (I am an improviser) when the “safety-net” of supportive colleagues is there.
8. The thought of having instability of income or medical insurance scares me.
9. I have absorbed the common “wisdom” that it’s next to impossible to “make it” (as in a living) as a creative artist.
10. I enjoy being able to afford a quality of life that allows me to have good aesthetic experiences (good coffee, interesting foods, dining out, fine wine and liquor, concert tickets, CDs and books, etc.).
11. My pattern of behavior throughout my adult life would suggest that I desire being in a good partnership to being alone, despite the appeal the latter often holds for me as an artist who can be rather self-absorbed with his time.
12. I never wanted to be a father, and I fear that a new (and younger) partner would want to have children.
13. I feel somewhat trapped in my current life situation, but probably foist too much of the responsibility for that on my wife and stepchildren, and not enough on my own inertia and fear(s).
14. I do not want to waste my or another’s time clinging to a relationship out of Sartrian bad faith rather than nurturing one in genuine caring, commitment, and acceptance.
Dear Collective Wisdom,
My Story:
About two years ago my then-seven-year-old second marriage began to falter, slowly at first, but the downward momentum increased. For a variety of reasons, we grew farther apart as time passed, ending up in summer 2010 at a place where things were—at best—merely occasionally comfortable. At its worst, I was very unhappy even being in the house, and my wife was uncomfortable having me there, frequently expressing her thoughts that I was an undesirable person. Also in the house are her two sons, both teenagers, and there were difficulties on that front (funny how that always seems to happen with teenagers who aren’t cryogenically frozen!). She suggested I take a long (3-4 week) trip to see my parents and pursue my creative work.
My wife is a good person and partner: Warm, funny and fun, gracious (but not elegant), attractive (but not sexy to me), thoughtful, intelligent (but not intellectual), curious (but not always accepting of aesthetic challenges), caring, supportive, engaged with her community. After years of feeling that she could assemble a similar kind of list about me, the compliments faded, and more and more were replaced by negative feedback about who I am. I suppose I began to become that person she saw, through that strange kind of feedback loop that such deep relationships can create. We no longer connected as well on so many levels, and the chasm of our differences seemed to grow, if not in size, in importance. She later admitted that one reason she suggested that I take such a long stay away is that she needed a break from me.
As fate would have it, earlier in the summer I met a woman who almost immediately began to move me very deeply; indeed, I began to fall in love. We share(ed) many common interests and backgrounds as academic-trained musicians. Swept up in a powerful wave of resonance with this beautiful, fiercely intelligent, deeply humorous, warm and funny, secure and grounded, probing and reflective, profoundly musical and aesthetically attuned woman, I crossed a line I had never crossed with a spouse before: I had an affair. Then I made what I suppose is the classic error: I confessed the affair to my wife rather soon afterwards, feeling that honesty was more important than the pain I imagined this would cause. We hacked it around during several very difficult weeks. Later that summer, during my long stay away, I felt that I needed to go see the other woman in her own city (we had met in yet a third state), to “make her real” and see whether my heart was simply overcome with the giddiness of infatuation. The quick visit was filled with anxiety for me (on top of the thrill), and did serve to make her a bit more realistic and true-to-life, but my basic feelings of attraction to this woman were unswayed. Yet the surrounding facts danced uneasily through my mind: Hurting my wife, abandoning stepchildren I had known for nine years, surrendering the known for the “danger” of the unknown, destabilizing my life, risking a future filled with regret (which cut both ways, of course), the unforeseen difficulties of navigating a relationship with someone significantly chronologically younger (which was never a source of male pride for me, but actually of trepidation), etc.
*** Skip to below if you don’t care to read all of this detail ***
In August I moved out of my house at my wife’s request and into an apartment in the downtown of our city. In many ways I was excited to take this step and discover that my ability to take risks had not vanished with age. But I found myself becoming overwrought with sadness when my wife drove off after declaring that we were done. She came back, though, and we continued to see one another several times a week over dinner at the house. I decided in mid-September that I should cancel a planned trip to see the other woman, discerning somewhere in my gut that I had to disentangle my navigation of our failing marriage from any attempt at fostering a budding relationship with another. That was a tough call to make, but I did feel some relief afterwards. The evening that I would have been stepping off the plane and greeting her, though, I wept and sobbed with a depth I had not experienced in many years.
Shortly after that I fell into deep depression. I spent much of the fall numb even to beauty of any kind, and drifted through daily life like a ghost. My wife offered support, which I welcomed as much as anyone depressed can welcome anything. I was diagnosed with mild-to-moderate major depressive disorder (meaning, in short, that it’s chronic, if episodic, and not necessarily linked to external events). On suspicion that it’s connected to my mild seizure disorder, I was prescribed a new medicine, which has worked wonders over the winter and spring.
In late January I wrote to the other woman and told her that I needed to “let her go” so that I could learn once and for all whether my feelings and relationship with my wife had any hope of surviving, whether she and I could learn once again to find delight in life together, and whether we had really explored things properly before we decided to call it quits. And I knew I could not do that while keeping another woman “in the wings” (let alone it being a very sh---y and manipulative thing to try to do!). Pressing send on that letter was one of the toughest moments of my life! We have had no form of communication since.
Having made it through the spring in fairly good form, living back at the house wife my wife and step kids, I nevertheless noticed that my thoughts were frequently occupied with the other woman, but figured that was natural given the power of the experience. I kept that to myself, though, and was nonetheless committed to determine whether my marriage still had enough root structure to survive, and I figured that with time the power of the memories would fade. We spent lots of time talking head-on about the issues we face, and also carved out as best we could time for fun activities together. Our relationship was caring and affectionate, but rarely sexual.
Then earlier this month I travelled to see old friends who happen to live in the same state in which I had met my new love. I found the experience staggeringly powerful. At the airport, my head snapped involuntarily around to every person to see whether it was she, and my thoughts were taken over by memories of and hopes for seeing and being with her. One evening, my friend said that when his wife of 32+ years walks into the room, it still lights up for him. This caused me to leave the room sobbing spontaneously.
While I was away, my wife felt very “distanced” from me, despite our talking almost every day on the phone, and daily by text, and my trying mightily to avoid giving any sign of distress. My homecoming was anything but a celebration. I was determined not to expose my thoughts, since our outward, mutual focus needs to be the pain and mistrust she is rightly feeling, yet when she questioned me repeatedly I admitted vaguely that the cyclical return to (nearly) the same place and time of year brought back memories more powerfully than I had expected. She took this very badly.
Yesterday, after a tough week together, my wife requested that I move back to the downtown apartment, where now I sit writing this set of confessions. She seems, at least at this moment, to have lost all faith that there’s hope for us.
*** Resume reading if you skipped the middle portion ***
Many Questions:
Clearly I have not let go of the other woman, or at least of the idea(l)s she represents. But more than that, I miss her, or at least as much of her as I know. I wonder what my life would be if she were in it. We resonate(d), and I ask myself: Would that resonance have a profoundly positive influence on my life? Would I be happier and more in the creative flow in that resonant space? Would I be a better partner for it? At the very least, should I take the risk and find out if she is still willing to explore the relationship to learn whether or not it’s got a long-term future?
If I do not pursue that relationship, or if she is no longer interested, can I ever truly let go of the other woman, or will she always be there, wending through my being like some glorious contrapuntal thread? Is it right for me (and I have no religious convictions of any kind) to end my marriage to seek greater happiness from without, when in fact that may be a misdirected path? Is it right for me to stay in a marriage that seems not to offer either of us enough sustenance? Can I rebuild trust with my wife, and build on the solid base we have from the past and forge a good future, if not an “ideal” one? Is it right for me to stay with my wife when she doesn’t have “all of me?” If I do stay with her, is it out of wisdom and hope, or bad faith covering up a fear of risk?
Things I Know About Myself:
1. I feel strongly bound to honor my promises if they don’t expose me to harm or destruction (no doubt because the abandonment of such deeply encoded behaviors runs counter to our “ethical” instincts as a social species).
2. I am loath to cause pain in another living being. (I have been known to pull off the road to rescue a mosquito from my windshield.)
3. I take my responsibilities as “caretaker/tender” (not to be read in a conservative sense of the man as provider) in my many roles in life very seriously, and don’t like to walk away from difficulty.
4. I draw energy and inspiration from being surrounded by fellow creative artists and intellectuals, and the thought of having a life partner who is both is very powerful (especially since so much of my life as a musician is spent alone in composing and practicing).
5. I am energized by being with others who engage in life in a deeply aesthetic way, and celebrate our all-too-human acts of seducing ourselves to embracing life through the frames we construct.
6. I am moving towards a career shift, away from teaching full-time and towards having creative work more central to my work days/nights, despite my practical fears (see below).
7. As a performing musician I love taking risks (I am an improviser) when the “safety-net” of supportive colleagues is there.
8. The thought of having instability of income or medical insurance scares me.
9. I have absorbed the common “wisdom” that it’s next to impossible to “make it” (as in a living) as a creative artist.
10. I enjoy being able to afford a quality of life that allows me to have good aesthetic experiences (good coffee, interesting foods, dining out, fine wine and liquor, concert tickets, CDs and books, etc.).
11. My pattern of behavior throughout my adult life would suggest that I desire being in a good partnership to being alone, despite the appeal the latter often holds for me as an artist who can be rather self-absorbed with his time.
12. I never wanted to be a father, and I fear that a new (and younger) partner would want to have children.
13. I feel somewhat trapped in my current life situation, but probably foist too much of the responsibility for that on my wife and stepchildren, and not enough on my own inertia and fear(s).
14. I do not want to waste my or another’s time clinging to a relationship out of Sartrian bad faith rather than nurturing one in genuine caring, commitment, and acceptance.
This post was deleted for the following reason: Not at all what askme is for. -- cortex
The wall of text and detail here makes it difficult to answer your question, but I will say this:
The thought of having instability of income or medical insurance scares me... I enjoy being able to afford a quality of life that allows me to have good aesthetic experiences (good coffee, interesting foods, dining out, fine wine and liquor, concert tickets, CDs and books, etc.).
These are very, very bad reasons to stay in a relationship. M
My pattern of behavior throughout my adult life would suggest that I desire being in a good partnership to being alone, despite the appeal the latter often holds for me as an artist who can be rather self-absorbed with his time.
This is also a very, very bad reason to stay in a relationship. Just as nobody wants to feel used for money, material goods or lifestyle, nobody wants to feel like Generic Girlfriend Figure #42. It's very selfish and self-absorbed and fulfilling for nobody.
What you need, I think, is time on your own, and given how much overthinking is apparent from your question, possibly also therapy.
posted by mippy at 10:19 AM on June 17, 2011
The thought of having instability of income or medical insurance scares me... I enjoy being able to afford a quality of life that allows me to have good aesthetic experiences (good coffee, interesting foods, dining out, fine wine and liquor, concert tickets, CDs and books, etc.).
These are very, very bad reasons to stay in a relationship. M
My pattern of behavior throughout my adult life would suggest that I desire being in a good partnership to being alone, despite the appeal the latter often holds for me as an artist who can be rather self-absorbed with his time.
This is also a very, very bad reason to stay in a relationship. Just as nobody wants to feel used for money, material goods or lifestyle, nobody wants to feel like Generic Girlfriend Figure #42. It's very selfish and self-absorbed and fulfilling for nobody.
What you need, I think, is time on your own, and given how much overthinking is apparent from your question, possibly also therapy.
posted by mippy at 10:19 AM on June 17, 2011
This isn't, and can't be about the other woman. You need to decide if you want to be with your wife, completely separate from other romantic concepts. If you want to be with her, then be with her for real. Go to couples counseling and individual counseling, make the commitment. If you don't want to be with her, then break up with her for real. Do not contact the other woman unless you have filed legal divorce paperwork. Only then would that be a mature, appropriate action to take, otherwise you are treating both your wife and the other woman with disdain.
posted by brainmouse at 10:21 AM on June 17, 2011
posted by brainmouse at 10:21 AM on June 17, 2011
Can I rebuild trust with my wife, and build on the solid base we have from the past and forge a good future, if not an “ideal” one? Is it right for me to stay with my wife when she doesn’t have “all of me?”
No.
I know this isn't very in the spirit of AskMe, but your question makes you come across as rather pretentious and self-absorbed. This may be the product of thinking too much about things, but it also suggests that you need to spend time outwith a relationship.
posted by mippy at 10:22 AM on June 17, 2011 [3 favorites]
No.
I know this isn't very in the spirit of AskMe, but your question makes you come across as rather pretentious and self-absorbed. This may be the product of thinking too much about things, but it also suggests that you need to spend time outwith a relationship.
posted by mippy at 10:22 AM on June 17, 2011 [3 favorites]
Everyone who has been involved in a long-term relationship has faced periods when things are not so good. When you wonder why you don't feel the same anymore, feel trapped or whatever. It's human and it's also human to wonder if the grass isn't maybe greener elsewhere. Your description of this, though, is somehow really off-putting to me. You are overly romanticising normal relationship growing pains. You are treating your wife with great disrespect and you seem to be sort of enjoying the drama of your current position.
Between relatives, friends and myself in similar situations, some decided to stay married, some decided to end things. I don't think that it's really relevant to your situation. Set some clear benchmarks, rules and goals for your life that you and your wife agree on. If you are separated, exactly how long will that last? Will you and your wife talk during that time? Have dates/romantic contact with one another? Will you see other people? Will you seek couples counseling during that time? Will you seek individual therapy during that time? What happens at the end of the separation?
This situation is simply not fair to anyone else involved, not your wife, not your stepchildren not you potential partner and not even you.
posted by goggie at 10:23 AM on June 17, 2011
Between relatives, friends and myself in similar situations, some decided to stay married, some decided to end things. I don't think that it's really relevant to your situation. Set some clear benchmarks, rules and goals for your life that you and your wife agree on. If you are separated, exactly how long will that last? Will you and your wife talk during that time? Have dates/romantic contact with one another? Will you see other people? Will you seek couples counseling during that time? Will you seek individual therapy during that time? What happens at the end of the separation?
This situation is simply not fair to anyone else involved, not your wife, not your stepchildren not you potential partner and not even you.
posted by goggie at 10:23 AM on June 17, 2011
Your post is full of archetypal statements about what kind of a person you are, or what qualities you possess... all of which is deeply undermined by the story as it fills out around the facts of the matter. All of these attributes that you assign to yourself, your wife, you affair, and your situation are about as unhelpful as cracking open the horoscopes and checking to see what the stars say you should do. To boot, your post itself is evidence that you have highly romanticized the entire situation. Since that's not working for you, let's examine the facts.
Fact: You committed to a marriage. You don't say what that commitment entailed, and I am going to guess that you're statistically unlikely to know what that commitment entailed because we, as a society, are pretty stupid and don't spell these things out.
Fact: You had an affair, which was seemingly in contradiction to that commitment.
Fact: You ended the contact with your affair in order to understand your commitment to your wife.
All the rest of your navel gazing about your relationship with yourself, your wife, your phantom lover, your music, and the universe is NOT PRODUCTIVE. The only way you will answer your questions about commitment is to talk to your wife and ascertain what she wants and needs from you, and to pay her back in kind by sharing with her what you want and need from her.
None of us can answer that for you or your wife. And if you can't answer that, then you need to get yourself into therapy and figure that out post-haste or else you're doing yourself and your wife a disservice by putting the cart nine years ahead of the horse.
posted by jph at 10:30 AM on June 17, 2011 [1 favorite]
Fact: You committed to a marriage. You don't say what that commitment entailed, and I am going to guess that you're statistically unlikely to know what that commitment entailed because we, as a society, are pretty stupid and don't spell these things out.
Fact: You had an affair, which was seemingly in contradiction to that commitment.
Fact: You ended the contact with your affair in order to understand your commitment to your wife.
All the rest of your navel gazing about your relationship with yourself, your wife, your phantom lover, your music, and the universe is NOT PRODUCTIVE. The only way you will answer your questions about commitment is to talk to your wife and ascertain what she wants and needs from you, and to pay her back in kind by sharing with her what you want and need from her.
None of us can answer that for you or your wife. And if you can't answer that, then you need to get yourself into therapy and figure that out post-haste or else you're doing yourself and your wife a disservice by putting the cart nine years ahead of the horse.
posted by jph at 10:30 AM on June 17, 2011 [1 favorite]
That may be the longest askme I've ever read.
This may be the shortest answer I've ever given, but I think it will help you profoundly in your relationships:
IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU.
posted by Sublimity at 10:30 AM on June 17, 2011 [14 favorites]
This may be the shortest answer I've ever given, but I think it will help you profoundly in your relationships:
IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU.
posted by Sublimity at 10:30 AM on June 17, 2011 [14 favorites]
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Just to be clear: Is your wife financially supporting you? In that wall of text I somehow couldn't find clear mention of that, but something like that seems to be there between the lines.
If so, and that's factoring in, that's a pretty despicable reason to stay married (and still have affairs)
posted by Nixy at 10:18 AM on June 17, 2011