"Good men don't need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many." - The Doctor,
A Good Man Goes To War
Being a pseudepigraphal internet personality comes with its blessings and curses. One of those curses is that you are often flattened out into 2 dimensions or narrowed to the black and white universe of pixels and fonts.
I'm a white hat. A white knight. A generally good and moral guy. At least, in my experience, that's how people tend to think about me. In a lot of ways I hope that's who I am as a character but also in real life.
Moral. Good. Upstanding. All those things that sound nice when people describe you. Humble too. It's my greatest quality.
The problem with that flattening out of identity is that it doesn't really give you a clear picture of who I am. I like doing the right thing. I try to do the right thing.
That doesn't mean that I always do - or that I don't get tempted.
A few days ago - I was tempted.
As I wrote before I've got a good marriage. Wiklets aplenty. I have no reason to complain, or to look elsewhere, or to sign up for an Ashley Madison account. It's built right into my moral code of honour: don't commit adultery. Heck, it's even Biblical.
Then there's Vicki.
She's married too. Husband's a great guy. Fantastic kids. Their whole family is our whole family's best friends. And she and I are great friends. We have pretty much everything in common. Life experiences. Likes. Dislikes. Political ideologies. Taste in music. It would disturb many of you to know that there is another me out there with ovaries and not quite as great a backside.
But we're just friends.
To which many columnists will write: there's no such thing as just friends between men and women. Emotional affairs and all. Frankly I think most of that "relationship advice" is just pandering to the insecurities that men and women have in their relationships and said articles are clickbait that generate far more revenue than the opinions are worth.
Because Vicki and I are great friends - but she's nowhere close to the bond that Mrs. Wikky and I share. We can talk 90s grunge music while reminiscing about band camp - but that's where it ends.
Here's the thing. The other night we're attending a function together. She and hers. Me and mine. It's getting late and both of our spouses decided to call it a night. Vicki and I weren't tired so we stayed up - sat on the beach - watched the stars.
Beautiful. The moonlight on her face. A few glasses of some very good red wine in our bellies. Temptation. Blood boiling temptation.
I leaned in. Said goodnight. And went back to my room.
Here's the question: would I yield?
Absolutely yes. Of course I would. I am not a paragon of virtue. I would hope that after all of these years that nobody would consider me to be one. Vicki was tempted too. We've had this conversation before. Great friends with so much in common and my impeccable ass? She would too.
But we don't. And we won't.
There is no game being played here. No coy dance of moths hovering too close to the flame just waiting for the fire to erupt. We have a rule. Not with each other ever.
I sure wanted to though.
That's a part of who I am too. I'm not a good man.
- W
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