I never thought it would be possible to be in love with anyone but my husband. Yet, that is the only way I know to describe how I feel about Clay.

At 37, I have been in love enough times to know what it feels like. I tried for a long time to explain it, to figure it out. I kept asking myself,"Why? Why do I feel this way?"

I gave up. I can't answer that question. I only know how I feel.

I have no illusions about it. I know that Clay doesn't know me, and I don't really know him. Though, it's certainly not from lack of trying. I have spent so much time trying to figure him out. And, on an individual basis, he has no idea that I exist, really.

Doesn't matter. My feelings are as deep and as real as they can be, under the circumstances. I love him. I admire him. I appreciate his talent. I appreciate his looks. But, most of all, I appreciate his heart.

I care for him as I would a close friend or family member. I am concerned for his happiness. To me, he is so much more than ' just an entertainer. 'For reasons I cannot fathom, I have an emotional attachment to him.

I still maintain a pretty tight grip on reality. And, as much as I love Clay, I love my husband so much more. I know that I would give up front row seats to see Clay, just to lie in my husband's arms.

I know Clay is not perfect. I have had my share of struggles with who he is: his character and integrity. I have heard him sing at times when he wasn't at his best. I haven't enjoyed every single song I have ever heard him do. I have no trouble believing that he can lose his temper sometimes.

Still...I love him. I have accepted the feelings I have for him, and simply enjoy them for what they are.