Submissive Without Sanctuary: The Lost Boy

I'd be lying if I said that my current state of mind was based solely off of him and her...there is another contributing factor to my melt...I guess I need names here...The Lost Boy. While he sure as hell is no boy, the term is rather fitting.

How did the lost boy find his way into my world? I picked his resume for my husband two years ago. Out of hundreds. And he was/is the One. Not from his resume, but from who he is. He was one of three people I told I was quitting the day I walked into the office and said "fuck you, I'm out". I will never forget his response...He looked at me and said, "No, don't quit! You can't leave me all alone here!" I cried on my way out of that room, I think I hid it well, but it almost kept me from quitting. Ultimately, I did walk out the door that day, because of the soul sucking cunt. I'll never forget the tone of his voice in that moment, and I'll never again do anything to cause it. Fucking ever.
He was there for me, one of only two who would look me in the eyes at work when my husband was fired. He was there for my husband when I was fucking him over with the soul sucking cunt. Because he needed someone, and I said, "call the Lost Boy" The loyal One. And my husband let him in. ALL the way in. He then proceeded to use the Lost Boy to push her out of my head. And it worked. One day I woke up, looked at her from the outside in, and knew that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. So I begged my husband for out, but he was already too far in...But I digress.

Any secret of who I am, every fucking trauma, how I feel, or what I am really like, which I have not spilled to him, has been told to the Lost Boy by my husband. He may not understand me, but he knows more about me than any other human being on the face of this planet besides my husband.

My husband pushed him. Into my mind, as somewhere I could go, as a shelter to run to, as a comparison of understanding in truly loving outside of our marriage. He has been generous with his allowances of the relationship I could have with the Lost Boy, but the truth is, those allowances are not so difficult to make when you know that they will not be--my feelings do not determine the route which Lost Boy and I take our relationship, Lost Boy does, and it is clear that anything beyond a friend who is your 2 am phone call because you trust them more than anyone in this world, is unacceptable. I'll take that for the enormous and unparalleled blessing that it is. But that enormous and unparalleled blessing does not dissipate the ache.
Yea, I fell. I fell fucking hard. But ultimately, I couldn't/can't run there. I figured this out in the depths of falling apart. And it has made the crash that much harder.

I told him my truth as it applies to him. And he stepped back. Way back. I can respect that. He's got a girl who he thinks is The One, and I'm not looking to be the soul sucking cunt in anyone elses life, especially his. The offer will always stand--me. However he wants, anything he wants, whenever he wants it.
So what he accepts is that married woman who makes dinner once a week, who he refuses to be alone with, who updates his resume and fiercely advocates for just how damn good he is at what he does, who will do anything for his girl because she is his, who will patch his brother up at two in the morning, pack lunch, and say, "Hey, I had a bad dream, please be careful out there".

The crash was hard. Really fucking hard. I spent a lot of time not accepting when my husband told me where to go for comfort. When I decided to go...I discovered that a major miscalculation had been made, and there was nothing to grab on to. I'm not gonna lie--it hurts. And I'm fucking lonely. And I do respect the Lost Boy's reasoning. He deserves his One, and I NEED to be good for his life, so I'll avoid fucking that up, in any way, at all costs. The way I see it, there's two real quick ways for me to make it to the top of his shit list--fuck with his relationship with his girl, or fuck my husband over.

Have I mentioned that I really have turned into an alcoholic? Yea...The girl who had never done anything more than take a handful of mushrooms really did live on blow for months and now polishes off a fifth of tequila a week. I'm a fucking mess and I know it. Some days I have a problem with that. Every now and then I have the desire to change it. For the most part, I can't see beyond surviving the miraculous appearance of next months rent. I make sure my kids are good. And they are. My eldest is turning into one hell of an awesome human being with a shining 4.0, and my youngest has the best grades in his inner city elementary school. Apparently grades don't top off at 100...

But this was about Lost Boy. The boy whose not a boy, who wanders through my dreams and makes my stupid heart skip a beat every time he smiles at me. The one I'll never taste.

It is terrifying because it's true...

It is what it is, and this truth isn't going anywhere, regardless of circumstances.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't resent the fact that my husband pushed him into my mind so hard, yelled at me that I had him to go to, and told me Lost Boy was how I was to survive him and the soul sucking cunt. Because I no longer belonged to just him, I belonged to the Lost Boy too.

Because the truth is, Lost Boy doesn't feel as I do, and one cannot belong to someone who does not want them to belong.