Tag Archive | text

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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Trying to move on

It’s one of those nights that I have to resist the urge to text you or call your voicemail. Not because your last text said “don’t ever call me again,” but because I shouldn’t have anything to say. Closure is overrated.

Christmas is approaching. This is the weekend you asked if I would be around. I’m not. Annual pre-holiday trip to visit the family since I want to be home for Christmas. The Wife was taking YD to her home state to visit relatives. You were going with her next weekend to pick her up. Or something like that. Who knows what’s true.

Are you and The Wife planning on snuggling at home while the kid is away? I’m betting I don’t get one of those “I wish you were here” texts this year. In my mind I fantasize that you will show up on my doorstep on Christmas Day bearing flowers and gifts and begging my forgiveness. You know I wanted to spend Christmas with you. You told me it couldn’t happen.

But we were going to see each other. Are you thinking of that? Or are you still pissed at me? You say you don’t hold grudges. If that is true, which I doubt, then you will eventually reach out even if you believe I outed our affair to your wife. Funny thing is, of all the people in this triangle, YOU are the one with the resources to find that information. You have dozens of really smart computer geeks working for you. Surely you could have them investigate without revealing why. Do you want to know who did it? If its not me, is that even worse?

You know it is. There are several scenarios. It could mean someone else close to you or the wife knows about us. Or someone I know. I’ve been pursued by a guy who works at the agency with which your agency contracts. He would love to know who you are. Maybe he figured it out. My FWB is a computer geek. He has the know-how to do it and not get caught. Whether he has motivation is something else. No one person in my life has the knowledge of your identity, the motivation and the know-how. There my ex. If he knew who you are there would be no doubt. He would just call The Wife up and spill it.  He wouldn’t bother with an email.

Then there is the wife. She told you before that someone was calling her. We both thought she made that up. What about this?

Did you see the email you think is from me? Can you prove it exists? Or were all the threats of PIs and cops (did it threaten her?) a big bluff?

Why do I even care? Because I can’t believe you would just dump me via text message, regardless of how scared and angry you are.

You said you will never forgive me. Fine. Grow some balls, man up, and tell me to my face, you bastard. Tell me you hate me. You never want to see me again. Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m vile, despicable and cruel, like you did in the text message. You can’t do it. You’re a coward, hiding behind the iPhone. You aren’t afraid of me. You’re afraid of how you feel. You’re afraid you will look at me and want me. You’re afraid I did it. And you’re more afraid I didn’t. You should be, you arrogant son of a bitch.

The Price I’ve Paid to Love You

Today I had to drive to our state’s largest city to have my car serviced.  It’s something I have to endure to enjoy German engineering.

To get there, I have to travel a very congested interstate highway.  I pass the exit to your house and your office (also the exit to the hotel where we met for four years).

I also passed near the office for the man my ex-husband thinks is you.  Remember him? The guy that got thrown under the bus in your place?  He got accused of being with me at a local hotel.  Apparently he either had a good alibi or his wife forgave him — I have searched divorce filings for his county and he’s not listed.  He was a cheater and had sent me naughty messages, so his hands weren’t entirely clean.  But he didn’t deserve to take the fall for you.  Or maybe you didn’t deserve to have someone else take the fall for you.

While your nasty text message to me went on about how hurt your wife is about our affair, I’m sure you weren’t thinking that my ex-husband was just as hurt, perhaps more.  He left the state.  He told all of my relatives and friends I’m a cheater.  He posted it on Facebook.  You have repeatedly said The Wife is a good person.  Well, The Ex is a good person, too, despite his faults.

After the D-Day when my husband discovered our affair, I stayed with him over a year.  Fifteen months, to be exact.  Mainly because if I didn’t he told me he would hunt you down and destroy your life.  By this time he had figured out that Mr. Cheater wasn’t you.  So he just thought I was a whore for screwing two married guys while I was married.  He berated me on a daily basis for over a year.  It was a nightmare.  I put up with it because I was afraid of how he would react — I didn’t want him hunting you down like he did the wrong guy.

And then there is the financial aspect of it all.  I absorbed negative equity in the house.  I gave up any rights to his retirement benefits.  He gets half my defined pension benefit when I retire.  He got half my 401(K).  I paid him nearly $50,000 just to keep him quiet – $44,513.90 to be exact.  I just checked.  He was paid out a mere 12 days ago.

So when you think that I “outed” you to your wife, remember this:  I have paid a high price to protect you and to love you.

My heart is with you.  Always.  I wish I could take it back.

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Get in line

Since you’ve made it clear that your mind is made up about staying in your marriage, yet you want to continue to see me, it’s time that I stop favoring you.  I’ve joked that you are “grandfathered in,” since I refuse to date married guys.

Henceforth, let it be known that you will be subjected to the same rules and criteria as any other guy trying to get in my pants.  Here they are:

1.  Texts that don’t contain a question will not be answered.  And the question must be about my general well-being or something else, not “Are you horny?”

2. No last-minute hookups.  If I’m not important enough to plan ahead for, you’re not important enough.

3.  No 2-hour meetings.  I know a whole night isn’t generally possible, but no brief booty calls.

4.  If we’re going to be Friends With Benefits, we have to be friends.  That means conversations about life, family, friends, activities.  On the phone.

5.  If I only hear from you when you want to get laid, you’re not going to get laid (by me, anyway).

6.  You have to call me if you want to see me.  None of this texting stuff without talking.

7.  There will be a delay between the time I hear from you and the time I respond.

I’m prepared to not answer your text or phone call if they don’t meet my criteria.  Eventually I will answer because I think it’s rude not to respond.  But I will tell you why I didn’t.

I remember you telling me about a woman you dated between marriages who stopped answering your calls or texts.  You drove to her house — over an hour away — to see what was wrong.  She dumped you.

That could happen again.

My heart 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 Message

vm iconThis evening I was wrapping up a long work day by shopping for sexy high-heeled shoes to go with my Halloween costume when a strange sound began emitting from the pocket of my suit.  It was my phone.  I had forgotten that I had changed your ring tone to Sci-Fi, which actually sounds very creepy.  Puzzled about what the sound could be, I pulled my phone from my pocket…and saw your face looking at me and your name flashing on the screen.

I put the phone back in my pocket and kept shopping.

Eventually I heard the “bleep” noise indicating I had a voice message.  I listened to the message — which was 1:47 long — nearly 2 minutes.

You sounded a bit hoarse, maybe a little stressed.  As you got rolling, though, you seemed your cheerful self.  The message, with my commentary inserted:

“Hey [MyName], (throat clearing) it’s [YourName]. (serious tone) umm I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to call you this week, or, uh, well I guess don’t know what else I would have done, called you this week (small nervous laugh).”

Bullshit.  You could have called me if you wanted.  But you didn’t.

“It’s been busy.  I was in [Corporate Headquarters City] yesterday,”

Yes, I know you were there.  You go there the same time every month.  It’s a three-hour drive each way.  You had six whole hours you could have called me (unless you had an employee going with you — which is rare).  And you usually stay with friends and you always texted me from there.  If you stayed in a hotel you had even more time to call or text.  So don’t give me the ‘I was busy and traveling’ excuse.

“and of course the government shutdown ending, and uh, it’s been a busy few days. “

The shutdown ended the day I last talked to you.  A full week ago.  Again, bullshit.

“But um, anyway, I can’t do lunch on Friday,

I texted you about lunch tomorrow LAST FRIDAY and you never responded!  You had texted me that even though you were playing golf in my town, you couldn’t see me because you had to take people and equipment back to your office.  That was bullshit, too.  You drive a sports car.  You can’t really haul more than one adult in it.  Granted, the trunk is big, but I bet you have employees with SUVs and minivans who can haul stuff.

“but I may be able to do dinner or you know, meet you at [bookstore with a coffee shop where I waited hours for you exactly a week ago] or something Friday evening.

You want to do dinner?!  WTF?!  Where is The Wife? What about not wanting to be seen in public with me, especially in the evening?  Do you have to transport Youngest Daughter somewhere? What’s the deal?

“Umm, if you’re up for that, so umm, I’m gonna be, I’m over here in [nearby large city] actually, I’ve got the [event for non-profit where you serve on board of directors] tonight,

Yes, I checked out your story.  Yes, the organization did have an event tonight.  It ended at 8:30 p.m., according to their Facebook page.

“and then in the morning I’m [volunteering at a local place] at 7:45, then I’ve got to get to work and uh I actually [detailed explanation about something work-related that only rocket scientists would understand] so I’ve got to fart around with that and [accomplish a necessary task] then I have a 9:30, a 10 and uh a 10:45 meeting and then I’ve got lunch tomorrow as well, so I won’t be in the office probably til 1 in the afternoon and stuff,

I didn’t know you volunteered there.  Very admirable.  I’m kind of surprised.  This is the first inner-city volunteer work I’ve known you to do.

“um, but if you leave me a message or shoot me a, yeah probably the best thing is just to leave me a message on the phone here and I’ll get with ya, and umm we’ll figure something out.  If you want to, otherwise you know we can put it off til later or whatever you’d like to do, so, anyway, I hope you’re doing well.  I miss ya.  OK, I’ll talk to ya soon.  Bye.”

Hmmm, I wonder why no text messages?  You’ve been calling/texting me on your work cell, which you are careful to keep on Do Not Disturb when you are home.  At least you realized I might not want to see you.  I wonder what you want?  Maybe you’re going to tell me now that you can’t see me anymore.  Duh.

I took my time coming home and dragging my purchases and luggage in the house (I spent last night in the city adjacent to the city where you said you were when you called).

I sat down with an index card and I began to scribble out my script.  I knew you were at an event and wouldn’t answer the phone, so I was writing my voicemail script.  After a few drafts and a practice session, I was ready.  I pushed Call Back on my voicemail menu, smiled and put on my best upbeat voice as the call went straight to voicemail:

“Hi, it’s [MyName].  Sorry I missed your call.  I went to [city near where you are right now] last night because we had an event there today and I just got home.  It was good to hear your voice.  I’ve been concerned about you and wondered if you got [your medical test results] back yet.  Sis had a patient with [a problem similar to yours] and it was very bad.  You know how I worry.  I can’t do lunch tomorrow, now, either.  When you didn’t respond after several days I made other plans.  But I might be able to do dinner or something.  Let me know when and where you have in mind, and I’ll see what I can do.  I’m home all evening this evening, so you can give me a call when you get out of [the event you're attending], maybe on your drive home.  It’s been a long day so I’m just gonna take a bubble bath and curl up with the cat and watch a movie or something.  I miss you too and it will be good to talk to you.  I hope to hear from you soon.”

That took me about a minute to deliver, 47 seconds shorter than yours.

It’s two hours past the event end time.  I really am exhausted.  I did take a bath.  No movie, just blogging.

I’m going to sleep.  And if I don’t hear from you tomorrow, I won’t be surprised.

My heart is with you.  Always.

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The End, Part 2

The last few days have been so difficult I struggle to describe them.

Seven weeks and three days after the last time we were together, we were together again.  Yes, this is where Ms. Beautiful Mess and Mr. Affair Advice verbally slap me around.  That’s OK, it was worth it.

It was wonderful.  Beautiful.  I have never felt more loved, cherished, and yes, wanted.  All of the feeling was still there, plus more.  We connected on every level.

And while I had promised myself not to talk about our relationship, I did.  You continued to waffle and waiver.  Wanting to be with me.  Feeling obligated to stay in the marriage.

We spent time together in a hotel near your house. The Wife was out of town.  Youngest Daughter was at an evening activity.  You couldn’t spend the night, but you came back the next morning before work.  Before you left for work, I handed you a sheet of paper with a list.  It was basically the list included in my blog post My promises to you.

That night you sent me a text:

“Those were beautiful things you wrote to me. Thank you.  You are a great friend and a terrific lover.  I just don’t know what to do with you :) I am not sure I can do the things that will make you happy.”

I replied:

“It’s how I feel.  Thank you for being honest.  What things don’t you think you can do?”

“You are an amazing man.  I’m certain that you are capable of making a woman that you love very happy.  If you don’t feel that way about me, thank you for letting me know.  I will gracefully step out of you life.  I will always love you.”

“I will always remember how you held me and kissed me this morning.  The way you looked at me with those beautiful eyes of yours.  It was amazing and I had never felt more loved.  I will treasure that memory forever. Thank you.”

I also left a rambling message on your work voicemail.

You didn’t reply until almost 10:30 a.m. the next day, saying you got my messages by had been busy and you had gone to bed after sending me the note.  “I’m not saying that I don’t want to see you again.  Just being honest about where I’m at with everything.  Hadn’t given it a lot of serious thought lately, but you got me thinking about it yesterday.”  You went on to say you had a lunch meeting and couldn’t get away from the office any other time.  There is a government shutdown, after all.

By this time, I was a basket case.  You had brought me back into full-press limbo.  I was working from home due to a doctor appointment.  I wrote my talking points.  You called me.  We talked for an hour.

Ironically, in these last few days and weeks of our relationship, we’ve become even closer, even though we haven’t seen one another.  And I’ve never felt more convinced of your love for me and your desire to truly be with me.

You reiterated your struggles and how you wrestle with leaving. How you can’t leave while she thinks you’re cheating.  How you can’t leave while Youngest Daughter is still home.  That’s four more years.  I was incredulous.  You had to go to your lunch meeting and asked me to call you back.

But you didn’t answer.  You left the office.  I spiraled into a web of anxiety worse than any I can recall.  By this point, I just wanted you to cut me loose.

Finally, you called me back around 8 p.m.  You had to take Youngest Daughter to an event and it took longer than anticipated.  The Wife was running an errand, too.  We talked for another hour.

And during that hour,  all of the frustration and resentment for The Wife and your marriage came spewing forth.  You had never been so specific.  You are in agony.

Finally, after much conversation about why you think we are meant to be, about how we are so good together and how we would have a successful relationship, you let me go.  You told me to move on, and to enjoy myself, because it’s unfair to ask me to wait when you don’t know how long I will be waiting. I had to make you do it, make you say it.  But you did it, for me.

The reasons are all fodder for another post.  But you made me feel better.  You were loving and kind.  Sad.  Upset.  You didn’t want to do it.  But you did it because you wanted to “do right” by me.

You didn’t want to give up hope, either.  But I know that you don’t have a plan, or an exit strategy.  You’re waiting for things to blow over, for the end to come due to other issues.  So it’s best that I move on — because you don’t even have a fantasy about how you are getting out of your marriage.  You may never do it.

I really don’t know how I can go on.  I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you.  You should be here.  You belong here.

Pain of leaving vs. staying

Recently I was discussing the contents of my tortured soul with one of my female friends, the one you have met.  (I call her Sis, even though she’s not my biological sister.  We’re more like soul sisters). I was telling her the latest news about our phone conversation and how you keep waivering between wanting to leave your marriage and feeling you have to stay.

My friends who know of the situation are aghast that I’m not pissed off at you, and completely befuddled at why you don’t leave The Wife and jump at the chance to be with me (they’re MY friends — so they all think I’m great, or at least more than adequate).  And when I say I get it, that I understand, they look at me like I have three heads.

Except this one.  She knows that the chances are slim that you and I will end up together and she knows why.  And like Mr. Affair Advice, she says it doesn’t have anything to do with me.

“The pain of staying has to outweigh the pain of leaving,” Sis explained.

You see, she stayed in a terrible marriage for many, many years.  There was abuse and general disrespect.  Finally she had enough and she left.  She suffered financial ruin, had to relocate her children, her family disowned her, her church kicked her out.  And she didn’t cheat.  She just wasn’t taking it anymore.

She explained that happiness and pleasure aren’t enough to lure you away from your bad marriage.  It’s the pain that will make you leave.  And staying has to be more hurtful that leaving.  And leaving is very, very hard.

Sis always knew that she would be happier if she left her husband.  She had traveled and experienced enough of the world to know that if she could get away, her life would be better.  But leaving him would wreak havoc with her family.  It would uproot her children, distress her mother (who disowned her), disturb her friends (who sided with him) and devastate her financially.  Eventually, staying became worse than all of that. She packed up and fled.

Tonight I was texting Sis — I’m traveling and you and I are in the same general area.  She warned me not to call, text or attend the event you are attending.  I promised I wouldn’t.  I’m having difficulty not giving in to your overtures to get back together and start sneaking around again.

“The pain of staying has to be worse than the pain of leaving…Don’t make it easy,” my very smart older Sis typed.

Sigh.  She’s right.

You have to do this on your own.  I can’t be there to offer comfort and shelter from the storm that is your marriage.  I did that for more than half of your relationship with The Wife.  We discussed that the last time we talked — your short courtship and quick trip to the altar means you and I were having an affair for more than half of the time you’ve even known The Wife. I made it easy for you to stay — to “have your cake and eat it, too.”  Being without me is painful.  It increases the pain of staying.  But that’s not why I’m not getting back with you — it’s not a strategy to “win” you.  It’s a strategy to preserve my sense of self-respect.

You are a strong, powerful man.  You can do what needs to be done — whether it’s fixing your marriage or getting out of it with dignity.  I’m not helping.

If I encourage you to leave her, then I become the reason.  And if I’m the reason, you will blame me when the going gets tough. When there are bitter arguments, or you have to write large checks, or you feel guilty.  Or your family and friends look down on you.

The pain of staying vs. the pain of leaving.  I know it well.  I stayed in my marriage for about 5 years too long.  Three of those years, I was with you.  I endured all kinds of things because I was too scared to leave.  We were separated multiple times and I kept taking him back.

No matter what happens between you and me, I will never regret leaving my marriage.  It was the right thing to do.  The pain of leaving wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain of staying.

Which will be more painful for you?

 

 

 

Throwback Thursday: Can you read my mind?*

This note was written before we broke up.

I’m wondering if you can read my mind. Maybe we do have a psychic connection. There have been several times over the course of our relationship when I was thinking of calling it quits and you somehow always made me change my mind. Sometimes I hear from you when I’m thinking of you and wondering what you’re doing.

We didn’t see each other this week. We both were terribly busy, but I would have found a way if you had time. There were lots of yearning “I miss you” texts.

I had a date on Wednesday. You texted me at times you usually do not. At 7:30 pm when you were going on a run. I didn’t answer. Again when you returned from the run. I answered hours later with a simple “I love you.”

You told me Friday that you were going on a weekend fishing trip. You didn’t say it was with The Wife and your family, but it was implied. If it were with you guy friends you would have said so. Plus, you doesn’t do a lot of guy things. Plus it’s Father’s Day weekend. I’m guessing the trip was a gift.

I was going to my mom’s on Friday evening. As I was driving down the highway I realized I was near the area where you are spending the weekend. I even asked my GPS to route me there, just to see how far away you were. The GPS told me 20 miles, and directed me to get off the next exit. I put the GPS back on course to my mom’s and was fantasizing about you when I got a text.

It was you.

Did you make it to [state where Mom lives]? Got to [lake] just fine. Nice Lakehouse. Fishing tomorrow. Love you.”

That was very uncanny. I wrote back telling you which exit I had just passed, said it sounded like a nice place, told you to have fun and that I love you. When I arrived at my mother’s four hours later, I considered texting you to let you know. Then I thought better of it. I’ve not heard from you and didn’t expect I would.

If this trip really was a gift, I think she did a good job. I’m sure it was. If it wasn’t you would have told me sooner and would have said who you were going with. I’m certain you would have more fun if I were there.

As much as I want to spend that kind of time with you I can’t really be jealous or resentful. It is what it is.

My heart is with you.  Always.