Crushes (while married) make life interesting; it's sort of treacherous and fun to be pushed to the edge of wrong and right, like my most recent one to date:
I recently went to an urgent care clinic; I have acute bronchitis. The doctor who treated me was probably twenty years older (I am 35) and damn hot: the kind of doctor, despite fever and sore throat and sputum, who makes you sit up a little straighter and suck in your stomach in the waiting room chair. So, there I was: sweaty, feverish, sallow, hacking up a lung, with this ruggedly handsome (the most incredible and steady hazel eyes, ever), silken-voiced doctor peering into my ringing ears (I hope they were clean) and flashing lights down my phlegm-coated throat. I felt an attraction, and what made it even more uncomfortable and exciting, was that I felt a sense of mutual attraction?! When the clinic called to follow up on my progress, the nurse immediately turned my antibiotic questions to the same doctor, who made matters worse and better by giving a slightly awkward phone consultation, which proceeded with him saying, "Feel free to call and check in anytime", which ultimately ended after a few awkward attempts (on my behalf).
I'll just put it out there and say that I have a very difficult and complex marriage: we've been through pretty much, everything, and have since retreated to the plateaus and plains of neutrality and banality, which is where we are safe and yet, stagnant.
Regardless of my own circumstances, I have always questioned marriage and monogamy, and I come from parents who have been together almost forty years. I think it's common and quite natural for many of us to start getting winded after 7, 8, and 9 years; some of us sooner, and the lucky of us, later.
While children and responsibility keeps me (and like others) pragmatic and grounded, I often wonder if all that trumps the consuming flush one gets from the pursuit of a new love, or the inspiration one draws from the anticipation of the firsts of many things...if I knew the answer, this question would not keep reappearing in literal and figurative type across my mind's sky.
So, I guess the options are to divorce; to wholeheartedly risk all for the pursuit (without promise) of wanton happiness, or to lock-in to life commitments and crush like crazy...
The answer for me always vacillates.
