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I woke up last night to a God awful dream. Bryan had come to me, like Steve did to Miranda and politely admitted to having an affair. But, not just any affair. The Affair. An affair with his X. You know the one.

First off Bryan would never have an affair. And to be fair, I’m big on reversing the senario- it always puts things into perspective. For example, I know I have no worries with an X because they are X’s for a reason. That usually works. 

{Edited to include:} In all honesty, I think everyone at one time or another thinks of their X. But, that’s it, its more of a fleeting thought and something you know is better left in the past. Because, ultimately you are two different people now.

The whole time Bryan and I have been together, I have never been paranoid. Well, minus the time I was five months pregnant with Garrett.

Oh, yeah that time. (Insert story of someone (I shant mention names) who works with Bryan- telling 5 month old pregnant woman that her husband thinks (said person) is a MILF.) First off, I find the very term ‘MILF’ unappealing, sexist, and crude. Call me a puritian if you will. But, it floats around way too freely these days. Not the point. This was something that infuriated me and changed my whole demeanor concerning our relationship. I went from easy going to crazy psychoatic lady within days. ‘Everything’s okay, Brook….you can calm back down that was almost a year ago.’ Even now, thinking of this scenario sends my blood boiling and causes me to find tons of insecurities in myself.

See thing is, Bryan’s job takes him away from me for very, very, long periods. We also work in seperate time zones. I am out the door by 9 a.m., he watches Baby G and then I am home by 2-3 p.m. and he leaves for work, only to arrive around 11 or so. We are akin to passing ships in the night and my day is much the way Becky describes her present life. 

We rarely get to hang out anymore. I mean, who has the time and wouldn’t blogging be more interesting. Kidding.

All this makes for a good soap opera, if you let it.

Seriously, Wednesdays are special nights. Bryan has inventory and if he doesn’t get home by midnight- I admit my radar starts going off and I think the unthinkable, even though I know without a doubt that he would never do anything. Thing is, that self-proclaimed MILF might do something. Not Bryan.

Last night, I simply called to say I was worried and went on to bed. Bryan arrived close to twenty minutes later and soon followed to bed. I woke up at 2 a.m. shouting- NO! NO! NO! By the time I had realized it was a dream, I was considering continuing my yelling simply because I felt the need for consoling. True story. I guess my reasons for posting this isn’t for sympathy, but rather to point out my reation wasn’t sadness as I had thought (as in when I witnessed Steve confess this same crime to Miranda)…it was shame and pure madness that he had respected me so little.

And, that got me to thinking…is infidelity actually about the sexual or rather that need for connection that gets lost in relationships over the years through marriage, family  and kids, bills and debt, goals and dreams? Or are we all a bunch of savages?

How do you cope with keeping the insecurities tucked ‘far, far, away’?

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