The Statute of Limitations

I don't think they knew we were sleeping together. At the time. I'm pretty sure they all know now. It came out eventually. Mostly because I told. The statute of limitations on that little secret wore out pretty quick. At that point, I felt it was okay to talk about it. After all, I was done and so was she. Plus, by the time I told, she was divorced. It wasn't that I was so proud of what I'd done that I had to shout it from the roof tops, but when our 'friendship' came up in conversation I didn't shy away from the truth. For the most part, I'm all about the truth. As long as it's not going to get me killed. This is why I waited until I felt it was safe. Now, I have been known to keep other secrets for years. I usually say it's 'their story' to tell, but I only ever half believe it. It's usually because a few remnants of love remain. It's not that I'm afraid to piss them off because I still hold out hope. I just retain a modicum of respect for the women I have loved.

Well, one of them. Her secret I keep. I've thought long and hard over the years about the statute of limitations on that one. It's been almost a decade. I used to say I'd give her ten years to come clean, then it would become mine again. Truly, I think all the key 'players' have an idea about what went on between us, but I still don't feel right 'outing' her. Once upon a time she lived the 'lifestyle'. With me. Sure, it was barely a nano-second and on the grander scheme of things, it shouldn't matter. Unless you're from a traditional kind of family and worry about disappointment and/or judgement. That's why I believe her truth should come from her. I admit it should have come long ago, but there's nothing I can do about that.

All I know is that I'm tired of carrying this particular cross. I used to lie about it until I realized that 'our story', our truth', was integral in explaining who I am and why. I started telling a sort of half truth that allowed me to express the essence of 'us' all the while keeping her identity hidden. To 99.9% of the people I've told the story to, she remains nameless and faceless. For some reason, I think she deserves that. Don't ask me to explain why because I really don't have a clue.

As we get closer to the decade mark, I'll have a decision to make. As a writer, I have an inordinate amount of power. I could tell everything. EVERYTHING. Of course, I never name names without permission and I know she would never give me permission. One day I might tell our story in its entirety. It's actually a pretty cool story, even though the middle part got a little ugly. Still, 'we', our beginning, middle, end, and aftermath, explain a lot about me. She was a turning point, a fork in the road. Our first 'hello' was the first day of the rest of my life. Without her, I wouldn't be where I am today. Maybe that's why I continue to keep her secret. She's THAT important.

So will I ever tell the whole story? I like to think I will, but then again... Our secret is the only thing she and I still share. We know something no one knows. It's ours. Ours. As much as I hate it, I like the way that sounds. Ours. If I tell, then we'll lose that. Eh... I suppose only time will tell.

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