Truth

Thank you for reminding me so pointedly that a relationship without truthfulness on the part of both parties lacks a fundamental tenet. Without total and frank disclosure, trust is a concept fervently cherished, painstakingly constructed on a bedrock of suppressed half-truths and glossed over distractions that one hopes will disappear with the passage of time.

Thank you for galvanising me into action, into confessing one's infidelity and abject wretchedness fuelled by lust of the flesh and a mind that has been quick to act, worry about the consequences later.

Yes what a tangled web we weave when we first learn to deceive. The need to carry on some lies hanging on in perpetuity. Love without Truth is flawed, that truism I agree with and is something I've struggled with for so long. Hoping that by focusing on the genuine affection and love I held that miraculously some form of self penitence could be achieved, the wrongs wrought absolved by the strength and genuinity of Love coupled with the steadfast determination never to repeat it again.

But yes I see it now, not so as debasing the notion of Love, wielding it like some common catchphrase to encompass a casual concoction of companionship, sex and convenience. Perhaps once I would have, maybe once I even did, but not now. And to perceive as you would from a bystander's viewpoint, coming to such a stand with such nonchalance that love is simply a school girl's dream, a fantasy of convenience and romance, ignores the fact that I really love him. Simple as that. Sure my past actions probably throw a dubious light on my declaration, and natural cynic that you(Kate) are, are undoubtedly justified in coming to such a conclusion. But we humans are complex creatures and relationships are complex interactions that defy logic and reason. Why we act the way we do. Can you seriously say that you've never lied to someone you love or matters incredibly much to you yourself?

But I digress and my intention is not to justify for I stand before you, Sean, incredibly damned and broken. Without truth, continuing this desperate attempt to gloss over damning infidelity by focusing solely on the present, all the while looking into your eyes, haunted by the very realisation that I have not been giving you the truth. Dark secrets that threaten to burst forth from their shallow grave. Without truth, continuing this gaily disguised charade of one, is a one sided and extremely selfish affair that does you no justice. How can I expect the same from you when I cannot even confess what I've done.

Those terrible deeds of infidelity that gnaw inside and remind that whatever you have given to me 100%, I cheated on in those times. And returning it 110% now, not out of guilt, but of genuine realisation that I was always running from my heart, that the love I have for you is real, attempting to make up for the past; Is no form of self-penitence, no justice to you, for only with Truth may I possibly be absolved. By you and only you.

"Give me sometime to digest this. It's too sudden." The pain and anger you no doubt feel. Justified in every way. I want to say: Should you so decide it unforgivable, so terribly despicable and say goodbye I will understand. But I can't. Even though I do understand the wretchedness you feel, the hurt I've caused, the beast I am, I still don't know what i'll do without you. Ironic isn't it, this inability, this refusal to let go still stems from that selfish need of needing you. But It takes two to clap, I'll wait, I'll do anything I can but if you want nothing more to do with me. I'll understand. Maybe accept eventually. But not now, should I plead for forgiveness? I don't even have the right to do so. Tell me.

To the one whose tongue of acid that shocks and bites. Words are immaterial. Love can be love by any other name, it's the substance not the form. A carnation will never be a rose, that is obvious but its beauty lies not in its imitability but in its very essence..of being a carnation. I don't prophesy, Love is no Oracle but a constant journey. We cannot predict the future but we can face it together. And when the constantly cultivated evolution blossoms, the journey is that much better.

Confessing brings crushing relief, bitter with the tinge of betrayal and wretchedness, sweet with the knowledge of coming clean, the purging of unsavoury debris. Don't let go. I'll be waiting.

$173 has been banked into your account via cheque, Kate. ($39 for the bus ride which leaves $79 for Annie and $94 for you.)