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" Surprising myself, maybe most of all, I stood up and followed him. I made the decision before I made it. I made it with everything I was. I let my towel fall to the floor. And I reached for him.  Two things I am starting to learn to be true:  1. No matter what realizations we think we have reached, no emotion is really the final one. 2. Things that seemed perfectly clear in the dark of the night look a whole lot different at the beginning of a new day.  This is not to say that I regret being with Doug the other night \u2014 or not totally, at least \u2014 but, if I&amp;#039;m being honest with myself, it does mean that I was glad he wasn&amp;#039;t there when I woke up the next morning. In fact, I woke up in a panic \u2014 the way we wake up sometimes and know that something is wrong before we even know what is wrong. It was almost like I was seventeen again, and about to get caught for doing something bad. What had I done that was bad? Doug and I had been making love for so many years \u2014 throughout so many different stages of our lives \u2014 that physically it felt so good and right to be together.  But something felt off, too. Maybe because we weren&amp;#039;t seventeen anymore. Maybe because nothing in my life seemed like something I could count on. I had been learning too much upsetting information about the people closest to me.  But I decided not to run with my concern. After my initial &amp;quot;morning after&amp;quot; anxiety, I decided to just name it as anxiety and let it go. The back and forth, the back and forth. Something in me had reached for Doug. I decided to go with that instinct despite my trepidation. After everything \u2014 after all the ways I tried to be there for everyone else \u2014 didn&amp;#039;t I deserve some un-thought-about happiness for myself?  So, the last few days, I quelled all of my anxiety \u2014 the best I could \u2014 and just let things settle between us. We had a couple of nice dinners and went for a long walk on Michigan Avenue yesterday, and last night we went out to this great new restaurant I was dying to try near the James Hotel.  Over coffee and a delicious sea-salt chocolate torte, I suggested that we figure out a plan for what was coming next for us.  &amp;quot;You know,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Let&amp;#039;s make some rules.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Rules?&amp;quot; he said, and smiled. &amp;quot;Okay, what kind? And how many?&amp;quot;  I told him that I didn&amp;#039;t want to say anything yet about what was going on between us. &amp;quot;I just think we need to get comfortable with everything before we tell Jackson and Jed and Abby and make a big thing\u2026. I want us to be comfortable\u2026&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I am comfortable with everything,&amp;quot; Doug said.  I was silent at first. &amp;quot;Well, maybe I&amp;#039;m not.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Okay, okay.&amp;quot; He raised his hands in mock surrender. &amp;quot;If that&amp;#039;s what you want, we&amp;#039;ll keep it quiet for awhile.&amp;quot;  I smiled, grateful. And then I also told him that he needed to tell me about any CIA activity, any active missions he was on.  This was when his face clouded over.  &amp;quot;Is that a problem?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Liz\u2026we&amp;#039;re not married.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;So?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;So I&amp;#039;m not allowed to tell you what is going on with that aspect of my work unless we are married.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;But you told me you aren&amp;#039;t active.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m not, but if that changed, I couldn&amp;#039;t tell you.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Then don&amp;#039;t change it,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Is there a chance that could change?&amp;quot;  He was quiet.  &amp;quot;Doug, I can&amp;#039;t be with you if you are doing such dangerous work. With all the losses I&amp;#039;ve had this year, I can&amp;#039;t really handle another one so well.&amp;quot;  He nodded. &amp;quot;Fair enough. I get that.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Promise me.&amp;quot;  He looked right at me. &amp;quot;I promise,&amp;quot; he said.  That made me feel better. Maybe it would be okay, after all. Maybe we would be able to work this all out.  He leaned across the table and squeezed my hand. &amp;quot;We&amp;#039;re supposed to be enjoying this, though,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;Can we make it a final rule that we are going to try?&amp;quot;  I squeezed his hand back and reached for the rest of the chocolate torte. &amp;quot;Yes.&amp;quot; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/a2132/diary-e-091807/>