It had been three weeks since her last confession. She didn't quite know what to say or how to say it. The church was eerily quiet at 10 am, that Tuesday morning. She was supposed to be at work but that was the last thing on her mind. There were frantic thoughts of remorse, guilt and disbelief that she was actually in this situation. Her options were flight, confession or pretentious existence, she chose to confess to the Lord first.
Theirs was a magical union, where everyone who knew them, knew that they were meant to be. It had been nine years since that day when she had professed her undying love and eternal fidelity to him in this very church. The last three years though, had made the memory of that day a little faint, as she found it increasingly difficult to stay connected to him. She had a job that took her away from him at least twice every month and he had a job that he was almost entirely married to.
And then there was him. They spent many late nights working on challenging projects where they challenged each other intellectually and shared each others pain and joy. They had spent every hour of every day for the two weeks that they were away together on a recent project from which she had returned just three days ago. At the end of the two weeks, she didn't know how to end it and she didn't know how to come back and tell him about it. Somehow she thought making a confession might help, help bring the strength she needed to confess to him. But she still hadn't ended it, so was she really confessing her guilt or seeking permission to let go?
Theirs was a magical union, where everyone who knew them, knew that they were meant to be. It had been nine years since that day when she had professed her undying love and eternal fidelity to him in this very church. The last three years though, had made the memory of that day a little faint, as she found it increasingly difficult to stay connected to him. She had a job that took her away from him at least twice every month and he had a job that he was almost entirely married to.
And then there was him. They spent many late nights working on challenging projects where they challenged each other intellectually and shared each others pain and joy. They had spent every hour of every day for the two weeks that they were away together on a recent project from which she had returned just three days ago. At the end of the two weeks, she didn't know how to end it and she didn't know how to come back and tell him about it. Somehow she thought making a confession might help, help bring the strength she needed to confess to him. But she still hadn't ended it, so was she really confessing her guilt or seeking permission to let go?
