And as for my marriage, pictures are all that remain. They are a reminder of a once marveled at beauty encased in loneliness and sadness. Sometimes, perhaps most times, we have to lie to ourselves in order to just survive. Eventually, some of us are faced with the reality of the lies we have convinced ourselves of. I'm not saddened by the loss of ten years of a pretty much one sided relationship. Loneliness is one of the reasons to have started this blog so long ago. A reprieve from the pain and anger, yet as I would post some of our story, I never questioned why. I never asked myself why it took me seven years to marry John. I think I was afraid of the answers and so just avoided it altogether. John and I were one of those couples that made everything look perfect and easy, but the reality was far more harsh. When I told him I was leaving him, it was the result of his request for another person to come into our marriage bed. I figure it this way, if he has to resort to another lover, right in front of me, then chances are pretty good that we were over before then anyway. The person he asked about finally, he attempted to manipulate me into thinking that that this would be a great idea because I already really liked her, more than as just a friend. This was his suggestion, and after thinking long and hard about his inference, I realized that indeed he was right. I did not wish to have a threesome with them though. The thought of him even touching her made me feel ill, still does. I didn't just have a crush on her. In fact, I knew already that I was in love with her. She is sitting behind me in our rented house, working on her own class work right now, as I write this. I have never felt so enamored with another human being or such a need to be with them, not even necessarily touching, but in proximity. I wish to shield her from the harshness of such a blatantly materialistic, racist, and bigoted world.  I have never wished for such before, except for with my children. So, I'm not sure if one could call me a lesbian, but I know with every fiber of my being, I will never lie with another man. I cried during coitus with every man I have been with, at some time or another. No more. It was past time I stopped lying to myself. And my life is better. Even with all of my gardens remaining open to me only in pictures, even if my fourth marriage just went up in the endless flames of lies and deception. Life is good.