Confession

So guess who talked to who today? Don, my husband of 18 years, talked to Joe, the man I was in love with two years ago. Don needed Acura advice for my sister's car and called Joe to get it. Don doesn't know anything about me and Joe. I told Joe things would stay that way.

I have no need for confession. I believe in my grandmother's advice, that while confession may be good for the soul it's bad for relationships. The last time I talked to Joe, a year ago now, I told him I wouldn't ever tell. I consider the whole thing to be a secret that belongs to the both of us, not just to me. Also, I was concerned about just this type of eventuality -- that the two of them would have contact through their work. I didn't want them to be uncomfortable in each other's presence.

I qualified my promise, though. I won't tell until I'm sixty. I reserve the right to say anything to anybody when I'm sixty. So when that year rolls around, maybe then I'll tell Don, "I kissed Joe the year my mother died." But I won't say anything till then.

Now perhaps Joe knows I've kept my word thus far.