*Present day*
Like Clarke Kent or Peter Parker, I seem to have developed a secret identity. On the surface, I'm a hard working wife and mother, but behind the scenes I'm... something... to a prison inmate. I haven't yet quite figured out what I am to Eden, or what Eden is to me, and I don't think I will know until he's released.
Like Clarke Kent or Peter Parker, I seem to have developed a secret identity. On the surface, I'm a hard working wife and mother, but behind the scenes I'm... something... to a prison inmate. I haven't yet quite figured out what I am to Eden, or what Eden is to me, and I don't think I will know until he's released.
It's been surprisingly easy, I'm shocked at my ability to hide the evidence, to lead two lives. But I am a communicator, I like to talk things out, and the lack of talking has resulted in a plethora of thoughts invading my mind. It's difficult to focus on anything else with so many questions flying left and right, knowing that only time will reveal the answers.
When you've been with someone so long it can be difficult to talk to others about your relationship, everyone knows you as one half of a couple, rather than as an individual. I don't want anyone to feel like they have to choose a side, I don't want to impart the responsibility of my secrets onto a mutual friend or a family member. This is my burden, and mine alone.
Michael the Archangel swooped down from the clouds, taking me by surprise. Humorous, intelligent and easy to talk to, Michael is like a more sensitive version of Han Solo. An impartial party, completely objective because of the fact that he doesn't know Adam or Eden (in fact he hardly knows me), he has quickly become my confidante, my counsellor. We've only met in person once and already I've revealed my secret identity, and although this makes me feel incredibly vulnerable, I'm also feeling relieved. Michael's unbiased point of view and thought provoking comments are helping me find clarity. Michael need only to ask me how I am and I'll completely divulge my truths, eager to hear his wise words. But at what cost?
I can't help but fear that I'm adding another dimension to the saga that is my life. Could my act of opening up to someone who is practically a stranger, and a married man at that, be just another step in my downward spiral? What is it that makes someone turn to an online friend before turning to a real life one?
But the strangest thing of all is my imagination. Whilst I'm prepared to accept that Eden, on his fifth stint in prison, is a sweet, loving and perfectly safe man, a small part of me has toyed with the idea that Michael is possibly a deranged serial killer who hunts down vulnerable young women on the internet, taking his time to woo them with his witticisms and charm, perhaps seeking to secure an invitation to discuss my troubles over wine, at which point he'll cut me up into small pieces and dispose of my body bit by bit across the west Australian coast line...
Or perhaps he's just a nice guy...
Or perhaps he's just a nice guy...