Conflicts

"What is on your heart?" she asked me.

"You know... I have said it clearly and plainly," I replied.

"Tell me again," she prompted.

"I want to win your heart. I want to be with you. I want to be your husband," I said. "I want to love you, and be loved by you. I want us to be in a committed relationship."

"Committment? How dare you ask me for committment?" she said angrily. "You certainly weren't committed to me when you fell in love with her."

"I know I made terrible mistakes. And for three months I've been completely different, haven't I?"

"Three months is nothing," she replied.

She paused, then continued, "I'm going to New York for a month. I will go and experience all the life I want to. No rules, no limits. Maybe I'll get it out of my system and not need that anymore when I come back. But there are no promises."

"I don't regret sleeping with other men while we were separated," she continued. "I have no regrets. I needed that. I needed to live. And I need to live some more."

I ached silently. How would I deal with her having sex in her wild experimentation? How could I live with myself while she behaved in ways that are completely alien to me? How could I have any self-respect if I sit here, patiently waiting, while she fornicated at will?

She went on. "I'm not stupid. I'm not foolish. But you have no rights to anything with me. None. Zero."

In all of my errors, I never ever slept with anyone else. I am here, humbled, kneeling at her feet, begging to be hers. I have poured my life out before her for three months.

And she is reserving the right to have casual sex with other people, and I have to accept it and not judge it in any way.

I don't know if I can live with that.