Tag Archive | notes

Letting my guard down

I spent an incredible weekend with an amazing man.  A man better than I deserve — although he doesn’t understand why I say that.

Saturday was filled with anxiety.  I had flashbacks of you, and they stung.

I remembered last Valentine’s Day — eating fast food and meeting you at a hotel the night before you flew off on an excursion with your brother.  I dressed up — you didn’t really care.  I bought you gifts — you were kind of appreciative.  I still don’t think you ever listened to the CD of music I made you.

This Valentine’s Day, the man in my life came to my house the night before.  I took Valentine’s Day off work.  We slept in, ate chocolate-covered strawberries for breakfast.  Took a walk.  Had a great dinner.  Saw a movie.  Came home and cuddled.

Faced with the reality of someone who wants to be with me, juxtapositioned with the memories of a love that I believed in so much, but was never this good…haunted me.

Damn you!

I can’t believe it’s real.  I can’t believe something this good can happen to me.

Trusting him with my heart?  Still not happening.  I beat myself up over it.  How in the world could I have believed that what you and I had was real…and can’t believe that what I have with HIM is real?  He’s here.  All the time.  He’s never given me reason to doubt how he feels about me.  But I question it.  All the time.  To a destructive level.

I pray to God (very unusual) every day (highly unusual) not to let me mess this up.  It’s not often you get more than one bite at the apple, and I don’t want to let this one go.

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All’s well that ends well

My intention was to break up with you gently.

The doorbell rang.  Although I was standing by the door, I waited to open it.

You were standing there in a long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans.  You needed a haircut and you had facial hair.  You looked a bit worn, but utterly delicious.

You wrapped me in your arms and I was powerless.  You held me and squeezed me hard, told me how much you missed me.  You apologized and said you never meant to hurt me.  You also said I was never, ever a piece on the side to you.

I offered you a drink.  You said you would have one if I was.  I remembered I hadn’t eaten, so I decided it wasn’t such a good idea.  I directed you to the sofa.  You complimented my holiday decor.

You started the conversation.  It seemed a bit rehearsed.  How we never meant to fell in love.  How great we are together and it’s because we love each other.  It’s not just about sex.

I know you live in your head and don’t let many people in.  Close friends are few in your life.  You’re an introvert.  A loner. I believe you when you say I know you better than anyone.

You told me the story of your latest drama, how you thought The Wife and I were working together.  We discussed possibilities, I asked questions.  You apologized for saying horrible things to me.

I told you that when you took up for her, I knew that you loved her and not me.  You said you had to do it in case she was seeing the texts.  I didn’t buy your story.

I asked what you want from me and you said you didn’t know.  I said after four years you ought to know.  You said you want to be with me but can’t think of a graceful way to get out of the marriage.  Plus there is YD.

I said you had made plans for your future and they were with her and did not include me.  You said that’s not necessarily true.  I called bullshit.

You said I’m the love of your life.  You want to keep me in your life, even if we just stay friends.  You need me.  You need me to love you and you want to love me forever.

It was entirely unfair.

You made me completely forget what I was saying.  I was under your spell.  I had to pull out my index cards with my talking points.  You laughed.

You disagreed without being argumentative.

You discussed her worsening disability and how she won’t be able to work much longer and that driving is becoming difficult for her.  I’m not sure I believed that.

I discussed how we can’t even have a “normal” affair because you can’t take time away.

You tried to tell me to hold on.  That soon she would be so severely disabled she would be homebound or in a nursing home.  I cut you off.  I told you that was too terrible to think about and I refuse to talk about it.

We made love.  It was wonderful.

Damn you.  You have my heart.  Always.

 

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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Throwback Thursday: This Love*

*This note was written before The Breakup

I’m completely in love with you.  I love you without limits.  I’ve never felt this way before, and I intend to celebrate it.  No more being sad because we can’t be together.  No more complaining because I don’t get enough time.

My love for you is the most amazing feeling in the world.  I’m going to keep it.  Cherish it.  Savor it.  Bask in it and wallow in it.

It’s real, it’s incredible and it’s meant to be.

I love you and I’m not going anywhere.  You make me happy and I make you happy.

The Wife can have the time, house, the money, the vacations, the grandchildren.

Would I like those things? Sure.  But I’ve got the love.

That’s worth everything.

My heart is with you.  Always.

 

A Christmas Note*

*This note was written before The Breakup.

The following is the content of the letter I gave you in a Christmas card.

12/18/12

Dear [Your Name]:

Loving you is an incredible gift.  I’m in awe of the intensity of my feelings for you.

My love for you has changed my life.  It has forced me to be honest with myself and examine the contents of my own heart.  It has challenged my own view of what love is  supposed to be and what it means to my life.

My heart is yours.  I give it freely.  Completely. Always.  Thank you for accepting my love without question.

Your love is safe with me.  You can count on me to love you unconditionally.  My life is open to you and you can have as large a role as you want to have.

Being with you is a priority because happiness is a priority to me.  There’s nothing I would rather do than spend as much time as possible making you happy and showing what my love can do for you.

Feel my love.  Know it’s yours.  No one has ever captured my heart the way you have.  And no one else can have my heart as long as I’m in love with you.

All of My Love,

[My Name]

The readers might be wondering if you gave me anything for Christmas.  You did bring me a card.  It was a card from boxed greeting cards, possibly the ones you sent to friends and family or gave to colleagues.

You wrote a short note:

Sweetheart,

I know this card is not very romantic, but I want you to know that I love you and appreciate you very much.

You’re the best!

Love,

Me

It upset me.  I read it after you were gone and I didn’t acknowledge it via text.  You didn’t acknowledge mine, either. You had to hurry off because Son2 was coming to dinner.  I’m the best.  You didn’t sign your name.  You didn’t bother to go to the store to buy a card or pick one up, say, when you bought one for The Wife.

I hope you had a merry Christmas with the your family.

My heart is with you.  Always.

Throwback Thursday: Reconnecting*

*This note was written before The Breakup.

I saw you today.  It was a surprise.  I was supposed to see you tomorrow.  But right after we made plans for tomorrow, you  called me to say you had a meeting canceled and you were available today if I could make it.  I had lots to do, and plenty of reasons to say no, but I didn’t.

For the first time since The Meltdown, we really connected.  It was all you — you went there, not me.  You told me repeatedly how much you love me.  You looked me in the eye constantly.  Those big blue eyes melt my heart.  You held me close and were loving and gentle.  It was extremely good.  And the sex was amazing as usual — but your timing was absolutely perfect.  I don’t know how you do it.

And you slept.  A lot.  Soundly.  I did too — I was tired.  But you were out for a long time.  I sense you’re not sleeping well and when I commented on it you didn’t acknowledge it.

You held me and stroked me and told me how much you want to be with me.  How you’re working on spending “lots” more time with me and how you want us to go away together.  I’ve heard this before, and I’m sure you mean it when you say it.  It just never happens.

Tonight I got a text:

“Thank you for making the trip today!  You were — as always — awesome.  I needed you today.  I love you very much.

You rarely use the word need, and never in this context.  It’s usually more about wanting.

Why are you steering us back down the emotional path?  It’s great as just sex.

Did you sense I was mad that you went to headquarters last week and didn’t tell me ahead of time?  And then stayed there the entire holiday weekend with friends?  The Family went up, which doesn’t make much sense from a logistical perspective.

I don’t know why I even bother going out with other men.  None are of your caliber.  Sexy, smart, successful.  You’re the benchmark, and it’s a high bar to surpass.

I’m puzzled.  Pleased.

And it happens just as I was drafting the breakup letter.  Can you read my mind?

My heart is yours. Always.

Getting social!

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It’s time to take this blog to the next level…via Facebookand Twitter.

The social media sites for this blog won’t just be about my relationship with my Lost Lover.  Let’s encourage people everywhere who have lost a love to post about it.  Spread the word…please go to the Facebook page and like it, then share it with your friends.  If you tweet, or even if you don’t, go to Twitter and follow the feed.  Retweet the tweets to spread the word!

 

The No Crying (or Blogging) at Work Rule

I’m breaking some rules today.

You and I have discussed my strict “no crying at work” rule.  This rule was decreed many years ago when I worked in an all-female office.  We emphasized that to be taken seriously as professionals we couldn’t cry at work.  I’ve modified that to “no crying in front of coworkers).  I have cried a few times.  But only twice in front of colleagues.

After your very nasty, threatening text on Saturday, I freaked out.  You probably figured that out when you listened to my  frantic voicemail message.  Yeah, if I could take that back, I would.  After that, I tried to access my work computer.  Guess what? When accessing the corporate network my computer died.  Just konked out.  Wouldn’t restart.

Freaked out even more, I placed a frantic call to my company’s IT department.  They kind of laughed at the prospect of a hacker accessing the network and I had to ask for a supervisor.  After pulling my battery, the kind supervisor walked me through some steps to prevent any misuse of my laptop.  He also put in a ticket to send out a technician to look at my computer and they made note that I had reported that someone had received emails purportedly from me.

Because you didn’t tell me which email account the alleged threatening emails came from, I notified my internet service provider.  The representative laughed at me all the way from India.  He told me that no one could access my email account from their network (yeah, right), but that ANYONE could hack into my computer from anywhere.  That was comforting.

I also had emailed my boss and the office manager notifying them of the helpdesk ticket and noting that it related to a “sensitive personal issue.”  My boss didn’t reply nor ask, being the gentleman he is, and not wanting to get involved in potential drama.  The office manager, being a woman about my age, did ask.

I shut her office door.  Told her I would tell the boss only if necessary.  She promised confidentiality.  I told her the story. I didn’t break down and cry while recounting the story of our relationship (the G-rated version), but I did well up.  As I am now as I write this.  At work.  Sigh.

She offered some possible scenarios and also offered to call the police.  She asked for your name (she’s also in charge of security and safety for our office) I gave it to her. I told her the police would only make it worse.  And while you were very harsh and it could be construed as threatening, I’m not afraid of you physically.  As for The Wife, your comment that “you better hope she doesn’t find you” (or something similar — it’s still too painful to read your message again), could be interpreted as a threat against my personal safety.  She is not the first to suggest that a restraining order against The Wife might be necessary.  However, I think it would make it worse.

So I’m not doing it.

Let’s face it.  What’s the worst she could do, kill me?  Would that be justifiable homicide? Would I deserve it?  The answer is yes to all of the above.

I will take my chances.

My heart — which is breaking 1,000 times over — is with 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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The Next Time You Say You Miss Me…

“Don’t be flattered that he misses you. He should miss you. You are deeply missable. However, he’s still the same person who just broke up with you. Remember, the only reason he can miss you is because he’s choosing, every day, not to be with you.”

― Greg BehrendtHe’s Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this line from the book He’s Just Not That Into You, especially when you tell me you miss me.  What you said about needing me made me think about it even more.  On my morning walk, which you could have been part of if you were here (or I could walk while you run), I gave serious thought to what I should say next time you say you miss me.

Here it is:

I miss you, too.  More than you can ever imagine.  My heart, body and soul crave you every minute of every day.  Please remember that the only reason you miss me is because you choose NOT to be with me.  I try to accept it. You’ve weighed the “regret factor,” you made your choice, and you’re not going to change your mind.   We both need to learn to live with your decision.  I love you more than anything, but I can’t always be here for you if it’s going to be this way.  You can have ALL of me ANYTIME you want.  There will be a time when I won’t do it anymore. So, please don’t forget that you miss me because you choose to MISS me rather than HAVE me. My heart is with you.

That’s going to piss you off.  But I don’t care.  OK, that’s a lie, of course I care.  I don’t really want you to be mad at me, but you will get over it, because you know it’s true.  You’ve made the decision you feel is right for YOU, not necessarily what is better for The Wife, YD, me or anyone else.  Playing faithful husband and thinking you’re “being good” because you don’t text me at night or on weekends when she’s home isn’t working on your marriage.  Only seeing me when she’s out of town also isn’t being faithful.

What you’re doing to her is called False Recovery in infidelity lingo.  You’re faking it.  Maybe you mean it sometimes, but you always end up coming back to me.

The holidays are coming up.  You always miss me and are thankful for me on Thanksgiving.  You always wish we were together on Christmas.  We could be.  The only reason we aren’t is because YOU choose for us not to be. So don’t go whining about how much you miss me and how miserable you are.  You could change it.  You won’t.

I’m going to move on and I’m going to be happy one day.  You’re still going to be miserable.  And missing me.  Some women would take satisfaction in that.  I don’t.  I just think it’s sad.

My heart is with you.  Always.

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