It's a blustery, stormy night outside tonight. When I opened the door to let the dog out, the wind nearly tore the door from my grasp and from its hinges.
It's appropriate somehow, as the prof and I finally discussed our current status, especially with the last 5 days of much reduced contact. The trial experiment, from her perspective, has come to an end in some ways. Sharing is not desirable, not a path to be on further, although the relationship may continue on a less intimate level.
It was a long, and adult, and intelligent conversation, and a sign that we have something to offer each other.
I do feel like a bastard, however, for the moment where she came across the blog entry regarding my sexual relations with the musician, after a lunch where the prof and I had an emotional connection. I know that I was naively oblivious to the possible interpretations of the situation, truly in the moment each time, truly true to the person I was with, but I feel like a bastard nonetheless.
Is this a cobblestone I have laid upon the path to hell?
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