Habit

I felt like I had a glorious secret, and the thought of it excited me.
No one had to know but me.
It felt clandestine, these meetings that I know signed on for. It brought me joy, but I knew the joy was fleeting and soon would end. But that was part of the excitement. I only had so much time to feel the rush in my veins.
I felt I was betraying a trust, but in the end it didn't matter. Those ties no longer existed, I no longer had an alliance there that I treasured. It was broken and rejected. I knew in my head this person would be deeply hurt by my actions, and that caused a tear or two to blossom in my eyes. But the pain passed. They had burned their bridge already, with no hope of coming back across the chasm. And knowing of my actions, I don't think I could rightfully allow them to even begin to cross. I felt I had betrayed them, even though by right, I really hadn't.
My heart was too full to accept any emotion. I had shut the doors and closed up shop. These meetings were all I could accept. The hurt was too deep, and too many doors were shut to do anything else.
Just as I had made a choice to let these people into my life, I made a choice to live in secrecy, and in that secrecy I couldn't accept anyone into my life. I couldn't trust, I couldn't love. I had cut the head off of the snake by undertaking this endeavor. I couldn't go back to those lives.
They were dead to me, alternate universes I couldn't travel to without wormholes.
A wormhole didn't seem very likely.
"Hands, touching hands. Reaching out, touching me, touching you. Sweet Caroline, good times never seemed so good. I've been inclined to believe they never would."
~ Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond