Last night I had a dream. For the first time since I met Debs, I dreamt of liking another woman — even kissing her — without feeling guilty. Until now, even something as innocuous as dreaming of another woman would leave me feeling incredibly guilty, both in the dream and after I woke.

I’m the type of guy that devotes himself to one woman. Monogamy and trust are the building blocks of a relationship, and those needs easily override any internal “male” programming to spread my genetic code as far and wide as possible. While I could never quite explain the intense and arguably irrational guilt caused by a simple dream, it always served as a reminder of my attachment to Debs.

That attachment hasn’t been there for some time now, but waking up this morning was the first time that I felt truly comfortable with what that really means: I’m a single guy now. It’s not that I haven’t known and accepted this as my reality until now, but now I find it somewhat comfortable.

Even if one’s reality isn’t wonderful, it’s nice to be comfortable with it.