The Irishman is still interested.
He wrote this morning.
Five little lines that
said what was needed.
"please don't take periods of silence as negative"
sighs of relief and
little floods of joy.
i should turn away
and i can't.
And there was another returnee. Remember the guy with the disabled wife? I had a good feeling about him but hadn't heard for a couple of days. Well, he wrote again this morning, too. He's into control more than pain, and this afternoon gave me a sample. Nothing big, and no pressure, but oh my goodness it felt good!
He's Irish, too, of course. But I think I'll call him the husband. Because he is that, a husband, who is wisely doing what he needs to do to keep his marriage going under difficult circumstances. He lives a little closer to me than the Irishman, and has the advantage of not being a cheater, although he still does need to be respectfully subtle about his activities.
But maybe I should call him Control Man.
He offers delicious control. Stabilizing, twitch-inducing, and very satisfying.
The Irishman offers passion and pain and joy.
I see no need to choose.