Over the last few weeks, I’ve had a surprising number of emails and texts from older lover. This comes as some surprise, given he was evasive and non-commital to meet when I was in London over the xmas & new year period. In my mind, ever since our last meeting I had begun to let go of him as a lover. Replacing him with the economist as my primary focus and resigning myself to the idea that I may never again feel his tongue on my sex or smell his warm, intoxicating scent. And to some extent, I’ve been successful in ‘letting go’. Surprisingly so.
And then his accident. Out of the blue he wrote to me from hospital where he was being treated for a motorcycle accident. A number of emails followed and I’ve been trying to understand why he suddenly feels the need to write to me. I think he is shaken up, certainly. His stable world of husband, father of three and professional career suddenly at risk as he realises his own sense of mortality. So why write? Is it that he feels he can confess his weaknesses, his doubts, concerns to me? Is he searching for sympathy he cannot get from his daily life? Is it a cry for help or a sense of regret that we have ‘lost’ our closeness, our ability to talk, to confide in one another?
On the one hand, I feel the urge to take him in my arms, cradle his head and kiss his forehead. To be there for him. But on the other hand, I am not sure I want to place myself in a position where I am vulnerable to the disappointment of second place when he gets his life back on track. I know that as a lover, you will always come second to the wife (or husband) and children. And that is my choice. But perhaps in this instance, I will choose not to be second.