A Forbidden Relationship

I'm not Catholic, nor can I comprehend why some may feel it's necessary to purge themselves to a nondescript person who hides behind a little black curtain. My desire to confess stems merely from a need to sift through the ashes and a morbid fascination to record one of the biggest mistakes of my life. By doing so, I lessen the chance of this ever happening again. A fool I am not.

In the beginning...

The cyber world that I once knew had begun to lose its newness and with each passing day of another hit-and-run sexual encounter, I'd begun to get extremely jaded. I'm not sure what needs all my exploits fulfilled in me, but I do know I craved the attention. And men always seem to respond best to the sex. My husband's acceptance of online play, rather than real-life friendships (platonic even), had me hunched over a computer screen for human interaction more often than I care to admit. As long as I was available to my spouse when he was home, my online stuff was never mentioned. A sort of "Don't Ask; Don't Tell" understanding.

When I met Austin, I was at a point in my life where I wanted more. Not only was I craving attention and love, but I wanted a confidant, a best friend. I needed someone to care for me even when sex wasn't being offered in exchange for his time. My "regulars" berated me heavily for my disappearance, I recall. But, truth be known, my "needing more" conversation probably scared the hell out of them. They eventually all drifted into oblivion.

I remember the day Austin sent me that first instant message, I was chatting with another. But something in Austin's manner gave me pause. I usually blew off men approaching me in the cyber realm, as I preferred to be the instigator (after I'd had time to determine whether or not he had a personality beyond that of "wanna cyber, baby?"). I think the thing that impressed me most about Austin was that he was the first person to ever contact me via an erotic writing website that holds my more explicit ramblings. I'd gotten numerous emails, but never had anyone bothered to locate me via chat. I was intrigued by Austin's originality from the very first. He was also clueless to my physical appearance other than a cropped-off digital image of my eyes, which earned him bonus points.

After regretfully confessing to Austin that his timing wasn't convenient (simultaneously chatting with multiples has never been my thing), I promised to contact him at another time. (He confided in me later that he was certain I was just "blowing him off.")

Whatever free time I may have, I want to give to you, my sweet Kim, for you are the nectar that brings warmth and joy to my heart.

--Austin, Dec 28, 2003.

Let there be light...

From the get-go, Austin made me feel special. His time and attention he donated to me without reservation. I also discovered that Austin was a single college professor. He was younger than my usual and claimed to be a 36 year-old virgin who was saving himself for marriage. In short, he was nothing like my stereotypical cyber fling. Plus, his background information seemed preposterous to me, as I couldn't imagine anyone saving himself for marriage in the year 2004. But I liked him, nonetheless.

My usual strong, reserved, controlling persona seemed to take flight when I was with Austin. The ways in which he spoiled and catered to my every whim, from babying the attention-starved child to satisfying the sexually aggressive femme fatale, still astound me. I'll never meet another man like Austin. Never. Some people just seem to click perfectly. And Austin and I did.

After only days into the cyber friendship, he began showering me with emails. His writing was romantically whimsical. He always began my letters with "My dearest Kim" and closed them with "Until I see you again, know that you occupy my thoughts, dreams, and fantasies. I remain, affectionately yours, Austin." I thought then that his words were glib and seductive, hypnotic even. However, they did amuse me and make me feel all gooey inside. Still, I hung back, unwilling to trust his intentions. He was a man, after all. I rarely even bothered to send him a response, lest I seem overly eager.

Suddenly, for every moment my husband left me alone, I always had another eagerly waiting in the shadows. Austin soon purchased a webcam after I sulked about not being able to "see" him. Something about camming together just makes chatting all the more real for me. Late at night while suffering from insomnia, as I often do, he would leave his cam on so that I could watch him as he slept or waken him if I needed someone to talk with. Just so I wouldn't have to be alone. Secretly, by this time, I was smitten with him. But I kept my feelings to myself.

Austin's birthday arrived several weeks into our knowing each other. Faced with the complicated dilemma of deciding on a gift for someone who meant so much to me in so short a time, I was flattered when Austin claimed to not want or need anything other than time that we could spend together (in the cyber world, of course). However, on the flip side, he was adamant about wanting to purchase something for me. He gave me some hobbit yarn about birthdays are meant for giving to others. (This was a new philosophy to me and one I wasn't too comfortable with.) I wasn't used to accepting monetary gifts from online playmates and the thought of doing so made me wonder if I would be in debt to Austin. I couldn't imagine someone buying me something for no other reason than the pleasure of it.

My first gift from Austin was a source of constant teasing and bickering for us. I refused; he offered. I grew suspicious; he got more understanding. Finally, he exerted a bit of his professional control and said, "I'm getting the gift. Which do you want?"

My eroscillator arrived a scant few weeks later.

Of course, you already know that you have that power over my will, which is a fortress that crumbles like a sand castle when overrun by the wave of your beauty and charm and that sweet sultry voice -- oh, how it melts my heart and drains all my strength.

--Austin, Dec 20, 2003.

And darkness was upon the face of the deep...

I couldn't understand how someone as charming and romantic as Austin could be single. I wondered if the women who came in contact with him were completely clueless. I was also under the impression that, perhaps, he was a smidgeon shy and had a hard time expressing himself in the romantic department in real life. He often spoke of his Vietnamese descent, too, and didn't consider himself very attractive. When he chatted with me, however, his skin had a glow that was dazzling and he had the most beautiful lips and smile I've ever seen. When I told him this, he grinned in that charming way of his and blushed. I know it's naïve of me to admit, but I saw our friendship being so long term that I'd eventually have to cope with his marrying one day. The thought of that unnerved me.

The only fault I ever found with him was that his apartment was drab and needed an interior decorator in the worst possible way. He also lacked imagination when it came to his attire and seemed to have a fondness for the professionalism of black and white. (When he bothered to wear clothing, that is. Most often I viewed Austin in a t-shirt and boxers. Or without any clothing at all. But that came much later, after he lost his obsessive shyness over his exposed masculinity.)

One day, over the phone, I was teasing Austin in my usual style about his sensible wardrobe when he interrupted me.

"I need to tell you something," he confided, "And I don't know quite how to do so."

I was still smirking into the phone, not at all concerned about any life-altering revelation until he got very serious and quiet. His words stumbled over each other and his breathing even seemed strangely erratic to me. He had never been at a loss for words before, and in fact, had one of the most extensive vocabularies of anyone I'd ever known. Yet, for once, Austin seemed speechless and uncertain. I could hear the sound of his mouth as it opened, closed, and opened again in the seashell silence of the phone. Suddenly, whatever Austin had to confess was a very big deal, and I was perplexed. My first inclination was to assume that Austin had homosexual tendencies, as that seemed about the worst confession a man can give a woman who's romantically interested in him.

However, I never once saw the foreshadowing of the truth. I have no idea why not: Single; virgin; black-and-white attire; drab, small cell-like apartment; plenty of time on his hands... The hints speak volumes to me now.

Austin's secret was that he was a practicing Catholic Priest.

My first impression was one of disdain and disgust. Not only in Austin, but also in myself. I pictured the lightning overhead and felt my face grow very hot. My heart sank, as I realized what a terrible crime I had committed. My silence unnerved Austin and he began to apologize profusely. His behavior was born out of need, he explained. He wasn't allowed to express himself sexually, and he didn't entirely agree with that aspect of his religion.

I only knew what my Father, the ordained Church of God minister, had taught me about right and wrong. I was ignorant to the Catholic beliefs, but I had enough remorse to know being with a Priest was very wrong. I also felt the need to cover myself. Although I was fully clothed at the time of Austin's revelation, I somehow needed to shield myself from him to appease my guilt over the nasty sins I had committed.

"Oh, my God," I remember whispering, "I'm going straight to Hell."

Austin's voice was sympathetic and soothing as he explained to me that I had done nothing wrong. He took full responsibility for my guilt, and his sweet way of tending to my embarrassment was strangely endearing. His voice became husky with the restraint of unleashed tears, and I didn't doubt his sincerity over his concern at hurting me.

He asked me then if I wanted to break things off. He said he'd understand if I never wanted to speak to him again. Only I couldn't imagine facing a day without him. I just needed time to think. Time to absorb the shock of his scandalous secret.

During our time together it is as if nothing else exists. We are in our own little world where you are the object of all my thoughts and affections. You fulfill the emptiness within me and I neither need nor want anything else but to be with you at that time.

--Austin, Dec 19, 2003.

And they were both naked and were not ashamed...

For several days, I had a hard time speaking to Austin after his "coming out." I couldn't get past the significance of Austin's "formal" occupation. I couldn't, for the life of me, imagine him as the normal guy and seductive lover I'd come to know. I think I was somewhat intimidated by him. The first time Austin tried to get intimate with me after I knew his truth, my webcam was turned off to hide my shame and tears.

"Kim," he pleaded with me, ever in tune with my feelings, "Can't you please just see me as a man again? Forget about the part of me that's a Priest. Forget I ever told you."

Oh, how I wanted to forget. "But why did you tell me?" I wanted to know, "Why, Austin?"

His explanation was that I'd gotten too close to him. And while he'd had cyber relationships before, they'd always consisted of brief interludes that didn't require a need for detail. I had gotten curious and began asking questions that he had a hard time avoiding.

I knew what I was doing in cyberdom as a married woman was wrong according to my strict religious upbringing. But since my spouse could cope with it and seemed to have no problem with other men entertaining me (online, that is) when he wasn't available, I'd come to terms with my tendency to play. However, I still wasn't to the point where I could comfortably have a relationship with a Priest, for God's sake.

As I watched Austin on his cam that day, I was amazed to see his inner turmoil. I could tell, even across our technological boundaries, that he was hurting right along with me. His facial expressions proved him to be just as vulnerable as I, and I thought for a moment his tears would fall along with my own. I resolved then to get over my hang-ups. I would make our friendship work, no matter the consequences. I couldn't stand to see him hurting.

We began to refer to his priesthood as the "black-and-white thing" in an effort to make it seem less important, less real. Austin never again spoke to me about his religion, and because he wasn't free to discuss that aspect of him, I sometimes had problems with the one-sidedness of our relationship. Just asking him a simple, "What did you do today?" wasn't always appropriate. His way of communicating with me centered mostly upon the moment itself. Or previous moments we'd spent together. We discussed the goings-on in my life extensively.

For Christmas, Austin presented me with a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret. His gifts were always extravagant, and I was still uncertain that he should buy me things. It just seemed so improper, I guess. Plus, I never wanted Austin to look back one day and think I had used him. My refusals were always met with his insistence.

I am so weak when I am with you because your intoxicating beauty turns my willpower and my body into putty in your hands.

--Austin, Dec 24, 2003.

Now the serpent...

Trouble began in my real-life around about this time. I'd begun to feel more ignored than ever by my spouse. I felt he often took advantage of my not having my own income to treat me with little regard. I began to need Austin for more than a cyber boyfriend. I needed his help with my marital dilemmas. I sought his advice and comfort. I didn't feel I was the happy-go-lucky girl he'd previously known. My depression hit like a hurricane after my ten-year anniversary went virtually unnoticed. And then, my husband's jealous outrage at a friend's housewarming left me in shambles emotionally.

One night, revealing my distress to Austin led to a heart-to-heart conversation in which he confessed his own guilt over our relationship. He had to struggle daily with convictions of his own, he admitted.

That's when I hit rock bottom. I couldn't bear to think that Austin was having doubts where we were concerned. I'm not sure what I expected out of the relationship. But I did know I expected him to always be there for me. He had once told me he was prepared to meet his maker with the feelings he had for me. Yet, when I needed him the most, he seemed to need to bail. Being that my competition was spiritual, I felt too insignificant to do anything other than let him go.

"Are you allowed girl friends?" I asked.

"Yes, even close ones," he replied.

I knew then that our relationship would be different. However, no man had ever made me feel as important or as special as Austin. I simply assumed the sexual aspect would be eliminated. And that, I could handle.

Sadly, our next chat seemed stilted and professional. For some reason, I had a hard time drawing him out. Already, I'd begun feeling him drift away. When he promised he'd see me the following day, I hoped things would improve.

The next day, Austin never appeared online. I immediately knew something was wrong. He'd never before missed an appointment with me.

And then I received the email that wounded me deeply:

My dear Kim,

I did something today that I have not done in a long time; I went to confession. That used to be a weekly part of my spiritual life, which, obviously, I have neglected for quite some time. I also made a holy hour today, which -- if you do not know since you are not Catholic -- is essentially an hour of prayer in church with Jesus. Both these gave me some moral clarity and some clarity of thought.

I tried to think of what advice I give people when they come to me with the same moral dilemma. Unfortunately, it is a common situation and, being a priest, people often come to me seeking counsel. I respect and believe in the sacrament of Holy Matrimony and the divine graces that xome with that sacrament, so I truly believe that when people allow God iinto their lives and into their marriages, He can heal their wounds and fulfill their needs.

I really do not know if I could sustain a platonic friendship with you, Kim; and I am not sure that that is what you are looking for. You told me early in our relationship that you did not know exactly what you were looking for until you met me. I think you realize now that you are looking for someone to fill the voids -- sexual, emotional, psychological, intellectual, etc. -- that are present in your marriage. When I realized it, I truly wanted to be that person for you, however, I know -- and have always known, but ignored it -- that it was inappropriate for me to be that person. That belongs in a conjugal relationship, where the spouses can be a source of grace for each other and in instrument of the Holy Spirit, Who, ultimately, fills all our voids.

You often complimented me, Kim, on my charity and generosity. Those qualities are a part of me because of my faith. God, Who is love, demonstrated for us upon the cross what it means to love someone. It means sacrifice, giving of oneself, even unto death. I did not sacrifice for you, Kim, I was selfish in my actions for bringing you into an immoral relationship, one that we both realized was immoral from the beginning.

You also spoke of the fact that you do not have any religious convictions, but my convictions would not allow me to exclude that from any real friendships that I have. It is so much a part of me that I had to fight it constantly in my conversations with you. I do not think that it is something you want to hear or with which you are too uncomfortable. Even this letter may be too "religious" for you.

I also struggled with the fact that I saw your husband making efforts to win your heart, but I think your relationship with me prevented you from seeing it. While he may not be perfect -- who of us is? -- he seems to be a man who works very hard, sacrificing weekends and holidays, to support his family. He also appears to be making an effort to spend more time with you since he sees you slipping away. That seems to be an indication that he really loves you, even if he has problems expressing it. I think he wants your marriage to work and for you two to be happy, but he does not know how to do it. Only you can teach him that, if you have the patience for it.

What I did with you was very wrong, Kim. I gave in to my loneliness and in the process gave my heart to someone whom I should not have. In doing so, I grew to care for you very deeply and also to hurt you very deeply, for which I shall spend many years in prayer and fasting. All I can offer you now are my prayers and sacrifices, my daily mmortifications. The feelings I have for you are not healthy for a priest. I find myself thinking more of you than of God. My feelings for you will never go away, but I have to learn to express them sacrificially as Christ did, through the prayer and fasting that I shall do for you. Only in that spiritual realm can I be united with you.

I know you feel like I am making you sacrifice here and not me. However, as you pointed out, it would only get harder, not easier. Your husband should be your best friend, your confidant, the person whom you run to with all your good news, not I. I can only see myself as a hindrance to the happiness of your marriage. You have every right to be angry with me, but I hope that one day you might be able to think fondly of me. I shall pray every day for your happiness and for your happy marriage.

I do not know what more to say, except that I am truly sorry, Kim. Sincerely yours in Christ,