Dancing with a Rogue Valkyrie

Dancing with a Rogue Valkyrie

She has awoken something in me, a flame I thought had extinguished nearly a decade ago. Now, I find myself checking my phone, secretly hoping for a message from her. I scour every platform with a frequency that borders on obsession. When that notification bubble appears next to her name, it sends a thrill through me, a rush of excitement I haven’t felt in so long.

But like all forbidden fruit, the allure does not come without consequences. Adam and Eve did not consider the repercussions of their actions; similarly, I stand on the precipice of decision. Pursuing this could be the sweetest fruit I’ve ever tasted, but it will undoubtedly cause pain. It would hurt one of my children for reasons only they understand, likely strain the relationship with my other child due to the ensuing tension, and it could mark the end of a long-standing relationship—a marriage.

Beyond that, it could ruin a friendship that means the world to me—not merely for the reasons outlined here but because the dynamic might never be the same. I cherish this friendship for the advice, support, and conversations we share. Would it be worth jeopardizing all of this?

I am torn. She deserves better, yet the heart often craves what it cannot have—the allure of the forbidden fruit. Is it worth all of that? I’m not sure.

Yet, every morning when I wake, the first thing I do is check. Before I sleep at night, I check again. The feelings she stirs within me are indescribable, a torrent of emotions that words can barely capture.

She is young, beautiful, and intelligent, with a mind that dances to its unique rhythm—neurospicy—a term that captures her brilliant uniqueness. And she’s spicy in more ways than one, her personality infused with an intensity that’s as alluring as rare. Her dorky smile and the humour we share as fellow band geeks strike a chord in me. These resonate deep within, playing a melody that echoes the youthful excitement of first loves and new beginnings.

Each interaction with her is a note in an unfolding symphony that I’m fearful yet eager to complete.

People indeed do the strangest things when emotional dysregulation is at play. Am I simply infatuated, driven by desires as I’ve watched the intimate love in my marriage fade over more than a decade? From a woman whom I still love and adore, the mother and nurturer of our children—I love her deeply. Yet, the stark realization dawns that while I love her, I am no longer in love.

This revelation hangs heavy, like a silent confession that refuses to be spoken. My heart straddles two worlds—one filled with familiar affection and shared histories and another ignited by the spark of someone new, stirring desires I thought were long extinguished. The contrast is stark, the emotions overwhelming. As I navigate these turbulent waters, the essence of my feelings and the pathways they might lead me down remain shrouded in uncertainty and the bittersweet tang of forbidden possibilities.

Destroy two decades on a “maybe, baby”? The thought alone sends a chill through my spine. She is young, with an entire world of life ahead of her—opportunities to explore, dreams to chase, and experiences to savour. And there I stand, caught between a fading past and an uncertain future, aware that I can’t venture into this lightly. I can’t indulge in a “maybe.” My heart yearns for certainty, for a “forever after,” even as reality whispers that such promises are rarely within our grasp.

The stakes are immense, not just a fleeting adventure but potentially reshaping the course of several lives. As I contemplate this, I realize the decision’s gravity. It’s not merely about what I desire but also what is fair and right for everyone involved. The allure of new love is intoxicating, yet the foundation of a life built together over decades cannot be disregarded lightly. In this moment of introspection, I seek a path that honours both the past’s deep connections and the future’s uncharted possibilities.

What if the feelings are not mutual? What if my mind is so intoxicated by her essence that I’m merely adrift in a flawed dream? The uncertainty casts shadows over every moment of elation, adding a haunting echo to each beat of my heart.

What if… What next… When?

Such questions linger in the quiet hours as I lay awake at night, her image flickering behind closed eyes. The thrill of her smile and the spark of her laughter continue to dance through my thoughts, yet doubt whispers with a cold breath, questioning the reality of my feelings. Am I alone in this emotional whirlwind, or is there a chance she feels the same magnetic pull?

The fear of unrequited affection looms large, making the stakes high and perilous. To reveal my heart could mean stepping into an abyss, risking isolation and despair. Yet, to conceal these feelings is to live in the shadow of what could have been—a perpetual limbo of yearning and regret.

What if… What next… When?

These words become a mantra, cycling through my mind as I decide whether to confess the depth of my feelings. The timing must be right, yet when is the right time for such revelations? The courage to speak the truth is a blade honed by both fear and desire, ready to cut through the silence or to be sheathed forever in the scabbard of my soul.