I Don't Want Your Confession

"I haven't asked you for a confession and I don't want one."

"I mean, I understand, but it's important that I come clean with you."

"Jack. Please listen. I want our relationship to work. i think it can work. I'm moving forward and I just need to have this behind us."

"Yes! Exactly! This will bring closure for us."

"It's already closed for me Jack. I don't need a confession or anything else from you. It's already closed."

This was the preamble to my confession. I truly love Jennifer and I'd made a mistake. Well, in truth, I'd made a few mistakes and I needed to lift the pressure....the burden from my shoulders.

It was also important to me that Jennifer hear me say the things I needed to say. This would show her that I was genuinely sorry for what I did. I had remorse. It would set the tone for me to be a better man.

It would help us move on and have a life together.

I reached across the table and pressed my hands around hers.

"Jennifer..." I began.

"Jack, please don't."

But my resolve was firm. I was contrite. I wanted Jennifer to feel my contrition.

"Jennifer. I cheated on you. I cheated on you with Meredith."

Jennifer exhaled and lowered her head. I could feel her sadness. I think her hands actually felt colder. I had expected this.

"Please know that I'm so very, very sorry. It was selfish and you deserve better than that from me."

"Jack...I don't..." Jennifer kept her head down. Her voice had no resolve in it.

But I was resolved.

"There's more."

Jennifer frowned and looked up at me. She stared at me.

"More?"

"There was another..."

"No, Jack. Please. I don't want to hear this."

"Please Jennifer. Let me continue. There was another time."

She withdrew her hands from mine. She inhaled deeply and exhaled and stood up.

"No, Jack. I'm not going to listen to this. I'm leaving."

I was truly astonished. I blurted out.

"Jennifer!" She turned away and started walking. I jumped up and went after her, reaching out and taking her hand. This time I spoke softly, pleading.

"Jen. Please." Resolve had abandoned me. Now it resided in Jennifer - in her eyes.

She did not yank her hand away from me in anger. She reached down with her other hand and slid my hand off hers.

She shook her head.

"No, Jack. No."

That was the last time I saw Jennifer.

As it turns out, my grand confession didn't show her any of those things I'd hoped it would and it certainly didn't help us move on. I was so intent on unburdening myself that I didn't head what Jennifer was trying to tell me.

I don't know if we'd still be together if I hadn't told her. Probably not. It was a time when I lacked the self-awareness to truly share myself with Jennifer. I was too focused on doing what I thought was best for us without considering what she needed.

Confessions, when done properly, can be powerful and healing. But if they are done improperly, as an exercise in vanity and selfishness, can have the opposite effect.

I was telling Jennifer what she already suspected. She hadn't known, but she had suspected. She was trying live with that. The vision of my indiscretion was sufficently blurred. She was aware of it, but not only on our periphery.

I had brought it clearly into focus and put it squarely between us. Now, all that's left for us to do is turn, and walk away from it.