Simple Affair

I sit here alone at my desk and let a gentle sigh escape my lips. I wonder how I should start this because all of it has been so hard. I could just make up a bullshit tale of love and romance and being swept off their feet from the hands of their lover, but that tale is told a thousand times over. I will let you take what you will with this one, this could be a real story or just another made up mess. In the end, I will never confirm and instead let you put it together. I take a shallow breath, here it goes.
This was a year of change for me. I was making my dreams happen. I had two goals for the New Year, one to become a published author and two to become a mother. The first goal happened. I felt a flood of accomplishment when I published my first book. It is an ultimate high even if it was a solo celebration. My family and friends didn’t really get my passion for writing. I got the feeling in countless conversations that they didn’t see the hours upon hours of work in solitude and then publishing the book only to make minimal sales as something that was rewarding and would lure me to go back for more. I could never explain it to them other than it was something that made me happy and that is why I kept at it. To me, it was freeing and empowering in knowing that I could actually do it and it was even more amazing to receive some sales.
I am an author, maybe not the best one, my imposter syndrome, that shitty little voice in the back of my mind often creeps in and inserts doubt. I have to keep reminding myself why I bother, and unfortunately the second of my goals is still a work in progress. It was a hard truth to swallow. I don’t think anyone can say that they enjoy failing and especially at something that should be easy and natural. It was harder than I could have ever imagined. I would go through a series of emotions, experiencing the feelings of hope, possibility, and anticipation that it could work and then the utter disappointment, sadness, and regret of getting my hopes up in the first place the moment it was known that it didn’t work.
I know that not everything in life comes easy or even at all, though I was not going to let this be the end of the story.
I couldn’t prepare for what was about to happen. Everything that I thought I knew and that I loved would soon come into question. I am not a bad person, but I believe after you read this some of you will hate me for what I did.
My name is Jordan Connor. I've spent my entire thirty-one years of life living within the nation’s capital. I married someone that I had fallen deeply for fast, and we are going on seven years of marriage.
Josh and I started off in a lust filled relationship meeting up at the call center job that we used to both work at until we got higher paying jobs elsewhere. We soon spent our lunch breaks making his car shake and with time, love and friendship came.
Fast forward to now, we own a nice house and two cars. To everyone we lead a normal happy life. We laugh together, play together, make love twice a week and have no major worries. We fight, every couple does, and it would be weird if we didn’t. It’s not physical, it’s always a fight of words. As I write this all down at my desk, it brings my life into perspective. I have done well for myself so far. It seems like a list of accomplishments as I re-read the words and I should be happy, fulfilled, and thankful.
We married within our first year of meeting one another, I knew that starting a family would be difficult. Josh has had a bad hand dealt to him in terms of health and to make a long story short he will never father a child. When I learned this, I was a twenty-four-year-old that was completely in love with her husband to be, I had no problem with it. I wanted to enjoy my twenties, focus on myself, my friends, this marriage, and concentrate on getting myself established into a great career before even contemplating bringing a child into the mix. The plan was at thirty, we agreed, I would seek medical help in order to get pregnant.
Thirty came and went and I never so much as tried. Josh had lost his job and we ran out of money. It was crushing to put the plan on hold indefinitely, but we had no choice but to wait. Therefore, in the time being I did the things that helped cheer my spirits, I spent time with my mom and dad, spent the weekends at camp with the extended family and did a lot of reading at the beach.
Back then, I had been thinking about it, writing a story, why not, I thought. I had nothing to lose. I loved reading and I could probably write a better story than the piece of garbage that is on my bedside table. My first attempt at writing began and this newfound hobby started a chain of events.