Too much of anything is a bad thing

Is there such a thing as too much honesty? Apparently yes. And I've got a bad case of it.

Remember how I was wondering whether I should tell The Man about this blog? Everyone told me not to. And what did I do? Did I listen to the advice from people so clearly better equipped to handle their lives? No. I told him. Luckily I had the brain to wait until after the second bottle of rosé. Which means that he probably doesn't remember a thing.

I've never cheated on him. Well, I've never cheated on anyone to be precise.Never even seriously thought of it, even though the situation has been everything but easy. Never until now. With The Manager. Not that the option ever even came up.I was professional all the way. Just not the kind of professional I would have wanted to be...

Perhaps because I'm such a Victorian prude with views on sex that are clearly more out of date than the milk that's lurking in my fridge I see that as a violation of something so profoundly intimate. I'm not sure if I could ever forgive someone for doing that to me- I'd be so hurt on such a fundamental level. The Man has always stated he's less black and white in that aspect and that he could see past that (well, the way he never used me dumping him for Junior against me is a testament to his maturity and integrity) but I'm sure he'd be hurt too, should I go all Kristen Stewart on his sorry ass. 

But lately I've got thinking about it. Perhaps there are more reasons for cheating than just a desire to be with someone other than your partner. What if the reason you cheat is wanting the other person to be your partner? Seriously, over those past days with the band, looking at The Manager I could barely contain myself. From behind he looked so much like The Man and it took every ounce of my sleep-deprived, over-worked, separation anxiety-ridden strength to stop myself from walking over to him, wrapping my arms around him and stroking his hair the way I would have done with The Man. My whole body ached for a touch.

And did I feel compelled to share this with The Man? Yes. 

I'm not just a groupie- I'm an idiot.