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New Year’s Eve and the Tales You Weave

You called.  I answered.  Twenty-three minutes.  

In just 23 minutes, you wove a tale so mind-boggling and unbelievable I almost believed it.  Perhaps I believed some of it.  Perhaps some of it is even true.  Interestingly enough, even though I didn’t believe half of what you had to say, hearing your voice and talking to you made me feel better.  Damn you!

The conversation wrapped up because she came home.  You whispered you love me as you hung up to greet her.  I’m seriously doubting your sanity.

I listened.  I talked.  It was a surprisingly normal conversation despite what has gone down between us.  You explained — a monstrous tale I can’t begin to repeat right now — and apologized.  You never meant to hurt me.

You explained the nasty text you sent me.   You had panicked.  You thought The Wife and I were in cahoots and plotting against you.  You had to make it look like you were breaking it off with me and taking up for her.

Well played.

At this point, the truth regarding the drama is a bit beside the point.  Irrelevant in the grand scheme.

This is what I know.  When the going got tough, when you were confronted with evidence of your cheating ways, your first instinct was to protect your OWN ass.  Not mine.  Not even hers — although at least when I thought you were taking up for her I thought you were being honorable.  I thought you really loved her.  Do you even realized you just admitted to being a complete and utter dog?

Or maybe you’re just telling me you said that.  Maybe at the time you were taking up for her.  But to woo me back you have to tell me you said it for her benefit, in case she saw the text.  So that she would know you were ditching me for her.

You were, dumbass.  And I’m going to make sure you live with that decision.

After the Christmas Day text there were others.  You miss me.  Love me.  Want me back.  Mine said I wanted us to sit down and end this relationship face-to-face, like grownups, instead of by text like we’re in high school.  You said, “Sounds good.”  You were to get back to me on the day and time.

I didn’t hear from you for two days. Ironically, right after I returned from an impromptu “girl trip” because I was so depressed over the Christmas Day Debacle (I had a meltdown in the middle of my Christmas party because you texted me.  Yeah, that was a good time).

It seriously makes me wonder if you have my house bugged.  I even asked you.  You didn’t answer.

But the text when I returned from my trip was a continuation of the “let’s break up like grownups” conversation.  It said:

“By the way, I am not breaking anything off.  We just need to talk about where we are and what you want and what is best for both of us.  I love you and care about you very much.  Always have, always will.  I miss you…more than you know.”

Not fair, sir.  Not fair at all.

We are going to talk in person this week.  I have a lot to say, and you’re going to listen.  Here is a preview:

Why would you want to continue this affair?  She is obviously closing in more than ever.  Do you want to get caught?

Even more importantly, why would I want to continue? What do you have to offer me?  A legitimate relationship? A commitment? I don’t think so.  We can’t even have a “normal” affair because you don’t have enough time to spare.  I can find someone to screw me a couple of hours a week.  I don’t need it to be someone who is ripping my heart out.

You’ve chosen to stay with her.  Go love her.  Love her the way you love me.  Let her love you the way I do.

I used to think it wouldn’t be fair to myself or another man if I got involved with someone I didn’t feel as strongly about as you.  Now I realize that settling on being your “other” is what is “settling.” Choosing to be with someone I don’t care about as much as you isn’t “settling.”  Unless settling is being with someone who thinks I’m worth it.

Being your mistress is settling.

A new year is upon us.  Go home and fall in love with your wife.

I’m going to find someone else to love.

My heart is with you.  Always.  Damn it.

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Be Careful What You Wish

On Christmas Eve I looked into the sky at the star I wished upon so many times over the past four years.  When I first fell in love with you, I wished that you loved me, too.

That one was granted.

Within the past year or so, I wished that you would choose to be with me.  And while that seemed like it would be granted eventually — or at least you seemed to dangle that possibility often — it didn’t happen.

Then The Wife found out (or at least strongly suspected) about our affair.  You dumped me.  I wished you would come back to me.  You did.  I was back to wishing you would choose to be with me all of the time.

I set a deadline in my mind:  Christmas.  I told you I wanted to spend Christmas with you — but I didn’t tell you that was the deadline.  I began wishing that you would be with me for Christmas.

Then the wife was onto you again.  You accused me of revealing the affair to her.  You said some very horrible, nasty things by text message.  You said to never contact you again.  That changed the way I looked at the stars.  I wasn’t sure what to wish for anymore.  Sometimes I wished you would be happy. Sometimes I wished you would come to your senses.  Sometimes I didn’t wish at all.

On Christmas Eve  I looked at the star, shrugged, said, “This is stupid, it’ s too late now.”  But I wished the I-wish-you-were-with-me-for-Christmas wish.

I entertain on Christmas Day.  It was the afternoon and my FWB arrived early so that we could have a romp before the guests arrived.  We were in the bedroom starting to undress one another when my phone, on the kitchen counter, made a noise.  He looked at me and said, “That was an email or text or something.”

I said, “Yes, it was a text.  And that text tone belongs to only one person.”   I powered on, although it was difficult to concentrate.  Finally, as we are making the last-minute preparations for the party, I looked at my phone.  I read the text.  I threw my phone on the counter.  He poured me a glass of bourbon and handed it to me.

Your text said:

“Merry Christmas! Hope you are doing well.  I am sorry about everything.  I miss you and love you … always.”

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Cards on the table

It’s been nearly a week since I’ve heard from you.  I’m not surprised.  It’s the new normal for us, and our affair.  What’s left of it.

I saw you last week.  We had a lovely time, as always.  The sex was amazing, the conversation good.  We caught up.

It wasn’t my intention to discuss our relationship and I’m not sure how it really came up.  I think you brought it up in the context of how you can’t text me when you’re home.  The Wife questions your phone usage, even when you go to the bathroom.  It’s interesting how she thinks that controlling your phone usage at home will keep you from contacting me.  I even told you about a blog I read that is based entirely upon a woman’s concern about her husband texting another woman.

Tidbits of the conversation include me telling you that you’re going to lose me and you saying you know that, but you’re trying to hang on for as long as you can.  I tell you that if  you miss me, it’s your own damn fault.  I reiterate that you are welcome in my life.  We discuss my upcoming business trip — which you surprisingly remembered — and how you are trying to finagle a way to go with me.  I tell you again that I would like to spend Christmas with you.

I tell you that the only reason I keep seeing you is because I love you.  I point out that if I wanted a booty call, I could have one — without having to take time off work, for longer than a few hours and that other men would buy dinner or pay the bar tab.

You repeat how you can’t leave The Wife.  You describe her worsening physical condition.  The way you do it troubles me.  There’s more disdain than sympathy or empathy.  You aren’t making fun of her, but the attitude is so odd it bothers me.

While we had some semi-serious conversation, it wasn’t uncomfortable.  We enjoyed one another.

I had been home working a couple of hours when you texted.  It’s very unusual for you to text so soon after seeing me.

“Thanks for seeing me and spending time with me! You are much more than a booty call for me. I know it’s frustrating for you — and for me — but unless the situation changes I can’t (won’t) walk away and hurt people here.  Just wouldn’t be able to live with myself.  It doesn’t change the way I feel about you … Just what I am willing and able to do with the cards on the table. I love you.”

What was that about?  Guilt?  And guilt over what?  Cheating or using me?  Or both?  I do think you’ve grown some balls to finally acknowledge that it’s a choice and that you won’t leave.  No more stringing me along.  Shoving me solidly into FWB territory.

My answer:

“I love you, too.  Thank you for being honest with me.  I appreciate it very much.  I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or you felt pressure.  Didn’t mean to.  I know where I stand with you and I appreciate your candor.  You would rather lose me than your marriage and everything it means to you.  Fair trade.  I love you lots.  Always.  Have a wonderful Thanksgiving with your family! I hope to see you again soon!”

Wondering what had prompted the text — why you felt a need to state your position — I picked up the phone and called you.  It was near the end of the workday but you were still at your desk.  You said you weren’t upset with me, that I hadn’t made you uncomfortable.  We had a short conversation and I reiterated that I know where I stand.  I said, “I know I will never wake up with you on Christmas morning.”  You said “Never say never.  It could happen.”  I told you that was completely unfair for you to say.

That’s the condensed version of our last day and conversation together.  I’ve not heard from you since, and I didn’t reach out.  You told me when your flights were, but I didn’t even put it in flight tracker.  You went to see your parents and I went to see mine.  I didn’t expect to hear from you while you were gone.  Although typically I would — prior to your D-Day, of course.

If your goal was to make me want to be done with you, mission accomplished.

My heart is with you.  Always.

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It is what it is

I was supposed to see you tomorrow,  since it’s a holiday, but had decided to tell you I couldn’t make it.  But you beat me to it.  I hate it when that happens.

This evening I received a text:

“I’ve got issues tomorrow. YD thought I had the day off, so she wants to go [do a fun activity]. I’m pretty sure her mother put her up to that, so I couldn’t really get out of it. I’m sorry.  Can we do something [the next day] instead? I could probably come early tomorrow for a couple of hours. [The next day] p.m. would be less of a hassle…I love you. Truly.”

No, “Hi, how are you?” or any pleasantries.  Just “I’ve got issues.” My, how our relationship has changed.  And you told me you actually had some work to do tomorrow, despite the fact it’s a holiday.  You’re not telling YD that.  Geez, I hate to be jealous of a teenage girl.  But I’d like to do stuff like that, too.

My reply:

“I go to [a town a couple hours west of here] [the day you suggested,] back [the next day].  Working from home Friday. [Fun activity] sounds fun.  Good weather.  Thanks for letting me know.”

Your response:

“I am sorry, Sweetheart.  I am sure it is a ploy to keep any eye on me.  I was really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow and I am very disappointed, too.”

Maybe it isn’t a ploy.  Maybe the kid really wants to go do that fun activity and really wants to spend time with you.  My response:

“It is what it is.  I’m not surprised.  Let me know when you have time.  I love you more than you will ever know.”

Readers are probably saying, “What the hell? Why did you go to the love stuff? You were doing so well!”  Because I do love him and I’m not going to keep from saying it just because of the screwed up situation.  You need to tell people you love them when you have a chance.  I also added that I can’t do tomorrow morning because I was pretty sick over the weekend and went to urgent care and my followup is tomorrow morning.  Which is true.  I was terribly ill.  I thought I might not even feel like going out to see you, but I’m doing much better now.

Surprisingly, I got another text from you:

“Thanks for that.  I feel really bad about this and I know I am not giving you anywhere near what you need.  Sorry you were sick – hope you are feeling better…”

So I asked “Thanks for what?”  and noted that I’m not giving you what you need, either.  I did go mushy:

“But I am willing.  Anytime.  All the time.  You know how I feel about you.”

Because it’s true, and I hope it registers that YOU are the one choosing for us not to be together.

“Thanks for sort of letting me off the hook by saying you had an appt. in the morning.  You could have said a lot of other things to make me feel even worse for breaking yet ANOTHER date, but you didn’t.  That’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

Now I’m sure some readers will have a field day translating that.  Does he love me because I’m a pushover?  I’m nice.  So sue me.

“I couldn’t do that to you, even if I should…You have my heart.  But I was really looking forward to being in your arms.”

And you said:

“I was really looking forward to being in yours, too.  I really need you.  More than you know.  Much more.”

I found that interesting.  You’ve only said you need me about three times in four years, and most of it was recent.  Maybe in the beginning you said it once.

I responded that I’m here if you need me. All the time. I’d move mountains to be with you if I could.  But you won’t.  I didn’t say that part.  But it’s true.

I’m not always going to be here.  I will eventually move on.

It is what it is.

My heart is with you.  Always.

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Breaking the silence

Ironically, the day I woke up having dreamed you called me, I heard from you.

I was sitting on the beach with my friends, half asleep, drinking Vitamin Water and vodka.  I know, it’s strange.  It’s our beach drink.  Hydration and a buzz all in one healthy bottle.

My phone was in the pocket of my cooler when I heard the annoying telegraph sound that indicates I have a text message.  My eyes are blurry as I squint in the sun at the screen.  I see your first name, which is the same as one of my best friends.  Then I see your last name.  It’s YOU.  My heart skips a beat and my throat tightens as I swipe the screen and touch the message.

RF-Text-08-31-13-cropped-redacted

I started crying right there on the beach.  This confused my friend, who doesn’t really know about you.  I had finally told her that I was seeing a guy who worked for a company that is based in the state to the north.  Which is true.  I failed to mention you live here and work in your company’s local office.  I never said you were married, or how long I had been seeing you.  I just told her you had decided to reconcile with your wife.  She said, “That’s why I don’t date guys ’til their divorce is final.”

I was glad to hear from you and to know you were safe.  Happy to know you love me and miss me.  Incensed that you would act like it had just been a couple of days since I heard from you, and that you acted like nothing had changed between us.

Trying to keep my emotions under control was hard.  We went to eat at the pub near the beach.  We drank more.  I passed out on the beach.  My friend took my photo – it is pretty hilarious.  If we were still together, I would send it to you.  Then I came home and crawled into my bed, sand and all, covered up and went to sleep.

I didn’t answer until the next day.  I had to think about it.  And I realized you really were worried about how I felt.  Because I’m overly-verbose, my reply won’t fit into one screen shot and I don’t feel like photoshopping it.  Here’s how I replied:

“It’s so good to hear from you.  Thank you for the msg. & for acknowledging my feelings.  Not hearing from you for 12 days was torture.  I’ve been very worried & I’m glad you are safe and well.  You said you were done with us & I’ve been painfully struggling with losing you while trying to respect your decision.  I miss you more than I can express.  My heart is with you & I love you completely.  Always.”

A friend verbally beat me upside the head for the loving you completely line.  But it’s true.  You know that.

My heart is yours.  Always.