I was about to lambaste and point out the weakness and frailty of the human with too much power of the latest ex-governor of New York for being such an idiot and getting himself involved in a web spun by the spider who promises paradise for such a small fee. I was angry at Mr. Spitzer for what he did to himself, his family and the state of NY. My wife, who can see the title of each of the emotions written across my forehead, talked some sense to me and reminded me of a quite recent event of a very close friend, a person I hold very dear, who became emotionally involved with a seventeen year-old. They did not have sex. The fact is, from the night ‘something’ came over him when they encountered each other, he did not see her again. Now, there’s nothing bad about getting emotionally involved with a girl at seventeen but my friend was in his mid sixties.

What he explained to me through his tears after some weeks, having become wrapped inside this twisted emotional affair, was a girl he had known since she was twelve, more than five years on that particular evening, showed up across the street from where he parked his car to go to the bank. He recognized her. She ran across the street to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck. He embraced her as the friend she had been for more than the five years they had known each other. It had been more than two years since the last time he saw her. He gave her a peck on the cheek, then they parted and she shared many facts of her recent past with her friend. There had been some changes in their email addresses and they brought each other up to date. They didn’t talk very long; he needed to take care of some business at the ATM and needed to get home. They parted, each mentioning that one loved the other and always would. They were friends… he thought.

At home with his wife, nothing was out of place. He felt alright, everything went as it had done for some time; the two laughed, joked about this and that, kissed, hugged and at the appropriate time they went to bed. They lay beside each other talking about this and that and finally sleep came upon both. It was when he awoke the next morning, that he realized the world as he had known it, had changed overnight. It was as if something had gotten into his head and rearranged his thinking, his memories, his priorities and all the accessories. Everything was different. When morning came and he woke, he was deeply, incredibly, unbelievably and insanely in love with a seventeen year-old girl.

This man, my friend in his mid-sixties, could not think of any thing or any one else but this seventeen year-old girl. Within the first two weeks of this trance-like behavior, he had been in contact with her by email. He began to imagine all kinds of scenarios with her. He could hear her voice talking to him. They had arranged to meet at a local mall. He was ecstatic. He counted the hours and nothing else seemed to matter to him. If I had to describe him, I would have said he had passed from this world into another. Talking with him was a new experience. He still had his logic, memory, ability to argue; in short, every faculty I had known him to have. What was different was his motivation. His priorities. Everything he did was for her. His wife was a person… some other person. He stopped physically loving her. He had trouble kissing her good bye for the day. When he took her to work, he could not kiss her lips; he pecked her on the cheek. Of course, she noticed the changes in him, but could not understand why he was different. She called me one afternoon while her husband was working and spoke to me for quite some time about her man’s actions and behavior. I knew what was going on but could not reveal to her a secret he confided in me. I wanted to, God knows how much I wanted to tell her. I just couldn’t. I listened to her tears and desperation with my heart breaking.

As often as my friend and I talked, he cried and could not explain what had happened to him. We explored every facet, every aspect, every idea, everything we could find online and everything we could think between the two of us. We are both rather intelligent people, yet there was no explanation for what happened to him. He had done a good job of hiding the girl from his wife. He may not have been able to hide his emotions and the odd behavior that evidenced the change of heart and mind he went through. But in his insanity, he forgot to cover all the paths he walked.

One Saturday afternoon his wife discovered the emails he shared with his seventeen year-old long distance lover. She went ballistic; when he got back to the house she was in tears and was packing his suitcases; she wanted him out of the house, right damned now. She confronted him with his lover and wanted an explanation. What could he tell her? The whole thing didn’t make any sense to him, how could he tell his wife what happened? She was desperate to save her marriage and at the same time, felt betrayed and double-crossed. She loved her husband but could not understand what this was he accepted in his life. During the confrontation she asked him in anger, “What does she mean to you?” When he related this episode to me, he said the only thing he could say to her was, “Everything.” It came out as natural as the sun rising in the east. His wife cried and wailed. He said she leaned up against the wall and slowly sank to the floor. He let her cry and sat down on the edge of the bed. The feelings for her that burned inside him had been covered with something he could not reach through to touch his loving wife. He was in his own anguish.

As we talked about each event that occurred in his every day life, I could see him sinking. Each day I said so long to him, I really didn’t know if I would see him the next day. I had no idea what was happening between him and his wife. I wanted to call… I wanted to talk to her and tell her I was in her corner… on her side but I knew I could not cross the threshold into their private lives. They had to work this out themselves. Even as a friend, I could do nothing for either of them… and the truth was I wanted to… so much. My agony for him was enough to keep me from raising my head above the storm. I had my own family to care for and I had to go on living each day. And the responsibilities at work felt like they were ganging up against me. I could feel myself slipping under the clouds that had shaded the road ahead of him. He would not let me rescue him; I had to rescue myself. But how does one good friend turn himself away from the friend he loves? We laughed together, cried together, talked out each other’s difficulties and found solutions to the impossible situations we both faced. Now, I felt I had to let him do what seemed good to him.

Exactly eleven weeks to the day he awakened to find himself in another world, he and his wife were talking sensibly, he said. It was the first time since he found himself lost. She was asking him questions and for the first time since the fog wrapped his good sense in a haze, he could talk to her without feeling like she was about to plunge a knife through his heart. It was the next day I saw him in the morning. He looked entirely different; he looked new; he looked like the weight of three worlds had been lifted from his shoulders. His face was bright; his eyes were shining. I asked him to tell me what happened. He told me of the conversation he’d had with his wife the afternoon before and how he felt the yoke of burden that he could not identify slide off his shoulders.

Maybe, just maybe, the same thing, or something like it, happened to Mr. Spitzer. We don’t know now and perhaps we never will. But it’s possible; just possible that a fog wrapped itself around the governor’s good sense and he had a lot more to lose. With the experienced my good, close friend went through, I know now that there are possibilities that I as a human being cannot fathom. When it comes to Eliot Spitzer, I believe he deserves the benefit of the doubt. I also believe he needs our forgiveness.