Well, it's pretty bad when the prompts you made up yourself just don't so a thing for you. I went off elsewhere to find a story spark. It came from a mixed proverb:

Discretion is not gold. (and this little 10-minute diatribe is in absolutely no way autobiographical, thank goodness!!! I got worked up emotionally just doing the piece.)

Discretion is not gold. Or golden. It's a hold-out, a cheat. He thinks if he's "discreet" then I should turn a blind eye and not raise a fuss. He can think again.

Then I whither from my boldness and think about all the changes ahead and I back track a few steps. What if I let him go on thinking he has the best of both worlds. What if I go ahead and let him support me and the kids and go have a treat on the side the way he does? I get to keep my life, my house, my comforts, my children. Somewhere out there is a soulmate for me who is willing to share maybe?

Yeah, right. I can't get out of the house. I'm stuck here with children and dishes and his mother with Alzheimers. He has to work. Has to bring home the bacon. My job is to raise kids and be a caregiver. It's not fair!

So how could I be discreet? How can I turn straw into gold? I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I'm hurt and confused and so very angry and that's not a good combination for making sound decisions.

I have to find someone to talk with. Someone who knows neither of us yet wouldn't mind me spilling my guts and then could give some objective advice. Please God, please. I am a wreck. I can't eat, can't sleep, can't mother, which is worst of all. What do these kids deserve? An honest father and a broken family? Or a "complete" family--speaking in terms of appearances, of course--and a dishonest father?

How on earth did this happen? Where did we stop being friends and lovers? I don't know that we did. He always is attentive to me and cares for his kids. Saturday mornings are his time to make chocolate chip pancakes and take them to the park.

To the park.
Saturday mornings.
Did he meet her there with my children while I washed socks? Was he practicing for being a part-time Dad? Is he planning on not being discreet sometime soon? How will I handle that?

I will soak him for every penny he owns. Make him pay for breaking his vow to me. This is not fair. So not fair!

Or should I call up Miss Discreet and give her an ultimatum? How do I preserve any dignity and grace? If I stand up and fight, I'm clingy and desperate. If I let go, I'm a quitter. If I cause a scene I'm being childish. If I'm discreet.....

Discretion is not gold. It does not pay for the errors of fathers on sons and daughters and wives. It cannot put together a life that is rent, a heart that is torn between self-care and survival. I just don't think I can take one more minute. Are you listening? Not another minute....I have to talk to someone.

Knock. Knock.