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Lost In The Wild


LostInTheWild

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Congratulations on the call back.

You're doing well. The future is once again yours...

Told you that recently laid glow would help with interviewers.;)

Face sitting couldn't hurt either.... (just kidding)

Its totally all YOU and about your capabilities.

 

Keep your focus and good things will come.

Don't fret so much with the actions of the EMT. There's often a lot of early push and pull with these guys.

Whether you have a future with him or not, he did serve a purpose. Showed you could make a connection with a guy and have sober afternoon fun plus he did fix that pesky flushing issue.....

Continued good luck Wild One....

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LostInTheWild

I woke up today wanting to make things interesting. I knew that today would be a painful day because I would call my mother and ask her to go to lunch with me. And I wanted to ask about my childhood before it completely vanishes from her memory. Most of it, I can't remember, only flashbacks of being hit, yelled at...but I do have one good memory. My dad let me roll the window up and down and up and down, over and over in our Thunderbird until it got stuck and started doing it by itself. It was so funny even he laughed. Oh, and another...dad was speeding with mom and me in the car on an icy road, the car did a complete 360...they were terrified but I said, "Daddy, do it again!" It was fun.

 

So many things got swept under the rug when I was a child. My parents remember things my mind has no access to. As my therapist explained to me, a lot of my childhood memories are lost because I had no words for what was happening with my limited vocabulary and nobody explained what was happening. Also, my well-oiled defense mechanism...suppression, emotional as well as memory.

 

Mom pulled up and I hopped in her car. We greeted each other and I started right away, "Mom, I was in a foster home, but I don't know what happened." And she looked at me like she didn't want to discuss it all. "Well, yeah, me and your dad were having problems," she said. "I know that, it's obvious, but how long was I there and HOW did I get there?" I clarified for a more detailed response.

 

"You were about 6. I went into the hospital (she is schizophrenic) and your dad was off with his new girlfriend and they couldn't get in contact with him, so they put you there. It was only for a couple of days," she explained. "HOW LONG?!" I shouted. "Three or four days. Then they got a hold of your dad and he got you out. You ate deer meat there. I thought you remembered this."

 

"And what happened after that?" I asked. "Your dad came to get you, but when I got out of the hospital, you were alone. Your dad had you going to school by yourself, and staying home by yourself. He had to work," she said, staring at the red light. My cheeks burned with rage and hurt. "Why the **** did he leave me like that?" I tried to not let my voice shake. "LITW, he had to work," she defended. "How did I eat?! Who fed me?" I shrieked. "I honestly don't know," she whispered. "Couldn't he have gotten a babysitter??? I was six years old!" I cried. "I don't know," my mom said.

 

"Don't dwell on this, LITW. It's the past," my mom encouraged. "Mom this is why I'm SO ****ED UP! I'm in therapy because of this abusive home I came from and all you're doing is making excuses for this. It is NOT OKAY! I want my life to be normal!!!" I said, clearly disturbed. She went quiet.

 

We arrived, ordered, and sat down with our food. "So when is your next therapy session?" she asked nonchalantly, and way too loud. "Mom, shhh...I go every week," I hushed. "When I got out of the hospital, you wanted to go play at the neighbor's house all the time and never wanted to come home. I had to come and get you and hold you down to restrain you because you fought me. You were such a rebellious child," she admitted. "Mom, I'm asking you questions about my childhood, not how I inconvenienced you. I want to know about what happened to me. Obviously, I didn't want to be in that house. And you blame me for being this way?" I responded. She ignored me and continued, "Your dad moved these people into our house and I wasn't even welcome there either, so I was gone most of the time, but I came back to get you. At first he wouldn't let me take you," she paused, "but I did it, I got you out. You told me that the woman he moved in wouldn't give you water. She wouldn't get out of bed to help you get water...and nobody else would either," she said.

 

Anyway, I didn't get much further with her than that. She told me about my teenage years, and how rebellious she thought I was. She told me she thought I was a smart child, but my last year of high school was the worst. "Yeah, and I still remember dad beating me when I was 16, choking me when I was 17...do you blame me?" I asked. "Well, you never listened," she defended. "Mom, you chose to stay with a man who beat me and you. You could have given me a better life than that, but you stayed and you don't even love him now, yet you're still with him and he's still bad," I said. "Well, he's actually been better these last few weeks," she defended. "Until he's not, right?" I asked sarcastically. "LITW, I don't believe in psychology, I just deal with things," she admitted. "Mom, psychology is SCIENCE..." I said, annoyed.

 

My mother is not well. She looked like she wanted to cry and said, "My vision is getting better and I know you won't believe me but..." she hesitated..."I think someone planted something on me. I didn't have these problems with dizziness and vision until I got out of the military," she said, looking into my eyes. Instead of getting angry at her latest hallucination, I paused..."Mom, maybe you're right." And I quickly thought about trying to contact her doctor, but I know there isn't much I can do. I've already tried in the past to intervene, but nobody can help unless she wants it. And dad won't do anything. I can only imagine the pain of living with this disease...I mean I have, but not directly. Always feeling like you're crazy and nobody will believe you. So we talked about it and I said, "Yeah, that doesn't sound right, mom. It probably didn't happen that way..." And she looked relieved. She is not going to get easier to deal with if she gets dementia. I need a good job to make sure she gets excellent care when I can no longer be there to help her.

 

So I'm happy I did this today because we actually got along for once, after all of this was said and done. And now I have some holes filled for me that I can take with me and hopefully repair my subconscious. And maybe, I can let go of my anger, towards her and my father, and for the way my life turned out.

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LostInTheWild

Oh, when the cold wind blows,

I feel it to the bone.

Oh, when you say you know,

I feel I'm not alone...

 

And even though I may return,

To empty places on my own,

Where I remember everything you want me to forget.

And you provide the parachute,

When I am falling like a stone.

And I remember there's a life that I have not lived yet.

 

You and I,

Truth and lies,

I've been fooling myself too long.

You and I,

Breaking ties,

How could we be so right and so wrong?

 

I hear the words you say,

Your mouth against my skin,

My world just falls away,

You light me from within.

And even though I may return,

To empty places on my own,

Where I remember everything you want me to forget.

And you provide the parachute,

When I am falling like a stone.

And I remember there's a life that I have not lived yet.

You and I,

Truth and lies,

I've been fooling myself too long.

You and I,

Breaking ties,

How could we be so right and so wrong?

 

Truth and lies...

 

Breaking ties...

You and I,

Truth and lies,

I've been fooling myself too long.

You and I,

Breaking ties,

How could we be so right and so wrong?

 

 

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LostInTheWild
Why do the people who do the hurting always say that??!!

 

**** if I know. My parents act like nothing ever happened. But if I go over there to visit, there's always tension. Ugh...

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Why do the people who do the hurting always say that??!!

 

Because for them it was a fleeting moment ...and didn't leave a scar on them ... the razor never feels the hurt ... the tornado never feels the whirling ... It just does what it does ...but leaves a trail of damage.

 

I'm so sorry LITW ... I have 2 children (12/14) and I know how scared they would get when they were younger if I was 5 min late picking them up from a birthday party ... or school. Didn't happen often but the few times left me feeling for their little anxious hearts so I tried to be on time all the time. They are still at home and in school ... They can spot my car from a block away when picking them up from school or anywhere ... They look intently ... Watching for me ... I am their beacon.

 

Memories like the above you might not have access to ... But they are there ... Because all the kids at their school are like this ... They've grown up with parents that are and have been present. When you're mom went away for a while you must have been so very scared. I'm so sorry this happened. You didn't deserve that. Reading your story makes me want to reach out and give you a great big momma bear hug.

 

I've only read part of your thread here ... You're very articulate and expressive and I've come to know you through your thoughts. I hope you can parent that scared child in you and let her know she was valued and loved ... Cry for her ... Hold her. She must have been so very confused ... I think she tried to give herself a safe place at the neighbors ... She was doing what her parents couldn't /wouldn't ... Yet was torn from the safe haven she had found. How hard that must have been for her. Thank you for sharing ... i hope and pray you continue to work through this and come out happy and healthy on the other side.

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**** if I know. My parents act like nothing ever happened. But if I go over there to visit, there's always tension. Ugh...

 

Believe in yourself and your experience ... You don't need their validation of your experience. That's one thing I've learned in my 40s. In your 50s i guess you really don't give a shyt anymore

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LostInTheWild

Okay, I got a bad feeling. A really bad feeling again.

 

Guess what guys? GUESS WHAT? GUESS WHAT I JUST FOUND OUT?!

 

I'm going to have to start running intensive background checks on people...

 

I tried but I couldn't find the EMT...

 

I tried again tonight, but this time I reversed his ****ing phone number and I found out he lied about his last name. What does that tell you?

 

That's right. I ****ing love Facebook. HE'S MARRIED.

 

AND HIS WIFE IS PREGNANT...39 WEEKS PREGNANT!!! And she's a god-fearing woman!!!!!!

 

WHAT THE **** DO I DO? I'm going to hell and my friends are all asleep. I'm freaking the **** out. WTF. WTF? WTF????

 

So I'm browsing around trying to find evidence this isn't true...I'm not seeing anything saying it's not the truth.

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Why are you freaking out? You knew you were only there for sex, there were no talks about being progressive together. Now that you are armed with this knowledge, are you going to continue with the fooling around or cut him out. From your other thread, you said he was a dick, only difference is that now you have proof. Was that not what you were,looking for?

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BrokenManAgain
WHAT THE **** DO I DO? I'm going to hell and my friends are all asleep. I'm freaking the **** out. WTF. WTF? WTF????

 

So I'm browsing around trying to find evidence this isn't true...I'm not seeing anything saying it's not the truth.

FIRST OFF, CALM THE HELL DOWN! NOTHING YOU CAN DO IN THE NEXT 24 HOURS ARE GOING TO CHANAGE THINGS!

 

THIS IS THE FIRST THING! NOTHING YOU ARE GOING TO DO IN THE NEXT 24 HOURS ARE GOING TO CHANGE THINGS.

 

Now, decide what you need to change things in the next 72 hours.

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Why are you freaking out? You knew you were only there for sex, there were no talks about being progressive together. Now that you are armed with this knowledge, are you going to continue with the fooling around or cut him out. From your other thread, you said he was a dick, only difference is that now you have proof. Was that not what you were,looking for?

 

We did have talks about being progressive together and taking it slow to "see where things go."

 

I'm freaking out because I don't deal with married men. And no, obviously I won't be seeing him again. This goes against my beliefs.

 

This explains the anxiety.

 

And for the record...I'm pissed—not hurt.

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BrokenManAgain
we did have talks about being progressive together and taking it slow to "see where things go."

 

i'm freaking out because i don't deal with married men. And no, obviously i won't be seeing him again. This goes against my beliefs.

 

This explains the anxiety.

first off, you've made a decision that you will put your entire life behind!

 

Never mind your anxiety! You know what you must do! You will not deal with a married man, espeically one who lied to you!!!

 

Congratulations, your path is now clear!

 

Move forth!

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LostInTheWild
first off, you've made a decision that you will put your entire life behind!

 

Never mind your anxiety! You know what you must do! You will not deal with a married man, espeically one who lied to you!!!

 

Congratulations, your path is now clear!

 

Move forth!

 

Yup, I'm happy about that. No more worrying or wondering.

 

And guys...I didn't give a blow-by-blow account of our conversations here, but rest assured I did question everything and this was not to be a strictly sexual relationship.

 

It isn't my fault, but I am very upset that I was involved in hurting her and her family.

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BrokenManAgain
It isn't my fault, but I am very upset that I was involved in hurting her and her family.
No, you revealled important info to the family. Yes, you were involved but you were also the one who stopped it.
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Because for them it was a fleeting moment ...and didn't leave a scar on them ... the razor never feels the hurt ... the tornado never feels the whirling ... It just does what it does ...but leaves a trail of damage.

 

I'm so sorry LITW ... I have 2 children (12/14) and I know how scared they would get when they were younger if I was 5 min late picking them up from a birthday party ... or school. Didn't happen often but the few times left me feeling for their little anxious hearts so I tried to be on time all the time. They are still at home and in school ... They can spot my car from a block away when picking them up from school or anywhere ... They look intently ... Watching for me ... I am their beacon.

 

Memories like the above you might not have access to ... But they are there ... Because all the kids at their school are like this ... They've grown up with parents that are and have been present. When you're mom went away for a while you must have been so very scared. I'm so sorry this happened. You didn't deserve that. Reading your story makes me want to reach out and give you a great big momma bear hug.

 

I've only read part of your thread here ... You're very articulate and expressive and I've come to know you through your thoughts. I hope you can parent that scared child in you and let her know she was valued and loved ... Cry for her ... Hold her. She must have been so very confused ... I think she tried to give herself a safe place at the neighbors ... She was doing what her parents couldn't /wouldn't ... Yet was torn from the safe haven she had found. How hard that must have been for her. Thank you for sharing ... i hope and pray you continue to work through this and come out happy and healthy on the other side.

 

Thank you so much for saying this. As an adult I know what happened to me was wrong back then. It was so wrong, but I'm still having trouble accepting that it WAS wrong. Does that make any sense? I mean my mother almost made it sound like I deserved it. Almost, by insinuating that because I was rebellious as a young child and throughout my life, I kind of had it coming.

 

I received no remorse, no apologies, nothing from her. I may have been able to deepen my love for her if she would have apologized to me. But no. My family doesn't apologize. Ever. I'm the one who has to be sorry.

 

She did tell me my dad misses me, and he misses riding bikes with me. I feel torn. Sick, almost, now knowing this on top of the falling out we had...how dare he not apologize? But I love him. It's weird.

 

So yeah, break from dating commences now. Focus on getting head straight. Then I can love again once I forgive myself and my parents and my anger.

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BrokenManAgain
Focus on getting head straight. Then I can love again once I forgive myself and my parents and my anger.
That comes later. Right now, I recommend a bottle of Lagavulen 16. It will make you feel what this freak did to you like child's play in the morning, aka a hangover.
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That comes later. Right now, I recommend a bottle of Lagavulen 16. It will make you feel what this freak did to you like child's play in the morning, aka a hangover.

 

Lmao. I'd like that but I already gave him the satisfaction. I'm done. Just going to move on now.

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LostInTheWild

Okay, here's what actually happened. Now that I'm cooled off and ready to discuss this.

 

So, I got a bad feeling. He lied about his name because when I searched him last week he didn't come up. I thought about it over and over...there were no records of this person. So, last night, I just looked up his phone number, which I had done before, however, I didn't delve into it. I didn't know what to look for. But then I found his last name, and lie after lie...

 

People are scary. They get lost in their hopeless worlds and will do anything to have a bright spot in their day. They're selfish. They have no remorse for their actions. They're brutal and will lie and lie and lie and sell their own mothers. I can't fathom this need people have to tell these tall tales, bury truths, and hide behind technology. The funny thing is, I can understand it. I can understand how we sit there and lie to ourselves that things will work if we change this or try this or go against everything we believe. I can understand it, but I'm not this way. I don't lie to people. I'll omit things, tell white lies, but never cover myself in hopes that someone will like me, accept me, or hire me. I'm very honest and straightforward.

 

I texted him a picture off her Facebook page and sent it to him and asked, "Is that you? Lmao. I guess your name is **** ******** and not **** ****. Pro tip: use a burner." A burner, for those who might not know, is an app that generates random phone numbers so that yours is never known to the other party. Duh, right? Imagine if I had never known. I would have beaten myself up over this for weeks trying to end it, going back and forth, not truly knowing what to do.

 

I think his lying was so despicable, so intricate, so mesmerizing that it warranted (drum roll, please...) telling his wife. His wife, who, by now must be laying up in bed holding their newborn child while he sows his oats. I drafted a sympathetic message to her, giving her a brief overview of what had happened, apologizing, and sent her proof. What will this accomplish? Nothing, at least, not for me. But in this world so chock-full of liars and cheats, *I* would want to know if my husband were philandering around while I suffered stretchmarks, being ignored, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong, and not being able to connect with him anymore. *I* would want to know, but would she? I don't know. I'm tired of keeping people's dirty secrets and suffering, trying to repair my feelings while jerks like this get away with it. Wives, none-the-wiser. Some wouldn't agree with this; others would, but I had to. I had to step up this time and say, "Hey, this isn't right." The last guy's wife? Still "blissfully" in love, posting pictures, thinking her husband is good, at least on Facebook (I just browsed again out of curiosity, given the situation). And, these people are partially victims of circumstance. If this were the first time this had happened to me, I might have let it ride thinking I'd dodge it the next time, but no. Fool me once...

 

I talked to my friends too, today, telling them yet another horror story of dating. They eat it up, loving the drama, but I can't tell you how tired I am. I can't tell you how tired I am of having stories like these. I just want one happy week in my life where I don't have to worry about anything and just feel loved. Just be. But it isn't so; the battles are weekly, constant, trying, and I'm still...unaccomplished in so many ways. Incomplete. Half-empty. Drained. Barren. Emotionally bereft. And cold. During a conversation with a friend I admitted, "I'm really starting to be unable to find reasons to do this anymore." And she said, "I feel like that sometimes too. I feel like I haven't gotten anything done." I explained, "Well, I have absolutely nothing to hold on to. When I get screwed. I'm screwed. I don't have anyone." She doesn't understand that. In fact, nobody does.

 

I got emotionally overwhelmed and had a good pillow-punch-cry-fest. Then my dog came over to me, knowing I was upset, wrapped herself around my neck. I sat on my bed, holding her, rocking, unable to think. This is the aftermath.

 

But how I love a good story. There is always a twist, you see. The EMT doesn't know that...I've told her. I don't think she's read that message yet as I've blocked her. Here's my revenge...I wished him well on his endeavors and all that, stayed calm like I have in the past during emotionally-charged situations (I'm good at it, but of course, I have my moments). Then he opened up...he still wants to be able to come see me once in a while. While there is no chance in hell, I've been toying with him all afternoon. He really thinks I'm still interested in seeing him with one caveat: he needs to tell me what's wrong with his marriage since "there's so much don't know..." I figure, I'll get my last story in until he actually realizes I've told her. How would that feel? I don't like being toyed with. I'll be the bad guy for a change and do something salty. Then, I'll take his complaints and be mindful of this situation should I ever get married. It'll be good, working knowledge hand-picked right from the earthy field. My future husband will be pleased as punch.

 

Okay, yeah, I do feel bad. I'm the bad guy. ETA: But my ju ju is already ****ed up anyway, once again. Bad luck for another 20 years...not like it really matters anyway because I've been unlucky for as long as I can remember (even when I think I'm winning, I'm really losing).

Edited by LostInTheWild
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"Is this who I am? Is that you?" I asked myself last night while looking into the mirror.

 

It's a rainy day. Boring, drab, and no responsibilities tying me down, yet I lay in my bed, anchored there. "To get up? Or not to get up?" I'm sick of having the answer to this question, "Get up later..." Oh, but then I never do. Instead, I reflect.

 

The interview on Monday went well on my end (I performed well), however, the owner who interviewed me, performed poorly. It isn't a company I want to work for honestly. He was...rude? I guess it can be said, as well as weird...I stepped into the office, confident, anxiety completely gone. The owner came around the corner, hand outstretched. I shook it; he looked at me displeased and said, "You're a lot younger than I thought you'd be." I shrugged. Sometimes people mistake me for being in my early twenties. I wasn't about to divulge my age to appease him.

 

We sat down at the table in a conference room. He asked why I was let go from my previous job, and I gave him the standard reason, "It wasn't a good fit and it was a risky career move," then I sprinkled in some details. He had the gall to look at me and say, "That is a well-rehearsed answer. You must have practiced that one." I explained that I actually hadn't prepared for the interview (I didn't need to; I know how to do it). Then when I answered his questions, he told me, "You're not answering my questions, I mean, you're saying a lot but you're just vague. You aren't really saying anything." Uh, try asking specific questions? Didn't really know what he was looking for, lol. But then at the end, I was rather insulted when he asked me about (he asked what my hobbies were) my blog and I told him it was about dating and interviewing...that my life was like a dramatic lifetime movie...he actually asked if he could read it!!! I said, "Uhh, well I write anonymously..." And he responded, "Okay!! You're giving me a BAD VIBE!! BAD VIBES!!!" And he started waving his hands all over the place...Needless to say it was entertaining, and it would be funny if I didn't need a ****ing job right now. I drove home that day, knowing that my life will be forever tarnished and not because of this.

 

I spend a lot of time trying to do the right thing all the time. "Is this good enough for you? How can I make this better for you? How can I make this right? How can I make this work? How can I change this for the better?" These are common thoughts I have about people, friends, family, and the like. But...man, I'm tired of being "good". The "good" person who "doesn't deserve this." It's okay, "You don't deserve this because you're a good person." "I'm so sorry this happened to you." "Something good will happen now since you've been through so much, just wait."

 

Karma...I used to believe in that, kind of. Something fun to think about when you're mad at someone or you're feeling slighted by someone. But after all of this...I can't think of anything I've done that was so terrible to warrant years-long punishment. Some situations I put myself into, some were circumstance, others were...just...**** happens. But still, I can't figure out where I've gone wrong. And I'm tired of wondering, so I'll stop asking what I did to deserve this...because that question no longer applies to me.

 

For every problem I've had in my life, where I was clear-headed and mindful, I always tried to "see" two solutions in my mind and figure out probabilities for both outcomes. I closed my eyes on Saturday night and saw two paths...One, where my moral compass shatters and evaporates. The other, I remain where I am without growth, but oh, I can always be that good person. I can always be what everyone wants me to be. But...being kind and nice and honest...where does that leave me? Holding an empty bag in which I can choose to fill with tears. The "nice" girl. The "laid-back" girl. The "friendly" girl. The "adventurous" girl. The "not-good-enough-for-later-but-good-enough-for-now" girl.

 

On Sunday, the path I had chosen had become quite clear to me. I spent a lot of time in quiet contemplation, gripping my mouth to quiet the sobs, wiping tears from my eyes, mixed in were periods of elation. The anxiety of opening up a new chapter, well, it stung my soul and tremors reverberated through my body causing it to come to life all over. It was like knowing you ran someone over, then fled. That was what this was like. This day, my path was concrete. I would know what to expect, always, in this situation.

 

I got my answers on Saturday, that I asked for. Still, it made me wonder and question everything even more. I could go off, find my own man, and for these simplistic reasons I'd have the very same thing happen to me. I could very well end up fighting with him all the time, crying all the time, and end up becoming a sack of potatoes in bed. I could try to open our marriage, to try to save it, then close it again. I could be all of those things. I could be a stressed-out mother one day. However, with the way my life has gone, I don't think I ever will be. I don't think I'll ever get married, nor would I want to after this; the guy would have to be S.S. Dreamboat 2,000 for me to consider it now. It's much better to represent the ideal woman; the one who has time to do her hair; the one who has time to do her nails; the one who has time to put lotion on every day; the one who has time to dole out blow jobs and cave into sexual fantasy; all while being "cool, calm, and adventurous".

 

And then, something snapped. I don't know what I was thinking, or what I was doing. I just did it. I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to stop feeling. I didn't want to stop at all. I selfishly craved him. I became the person I never thought I'd become. The person who is "okay" with that. I'm good at it, though, I remembered...I'm always "okay" with putting up with crap. It suits me and I wear it well.

 

Before long, we were confessing feelings, riding the high and then I dropped the bomb: I told her. He went to find her phone and deleted my message after reading it. She hadn't read it. One full day of not reading my message. The sound of my moral compass shattering echoed through my mind. This is what I've relegated myself to. Being someone's secret, whereas he isn't mine, nor is he mine to keep. It was easy, like...accidentally slicing your finger. Done. Then I cried. He wasn't mad and he wanted to continue doing whatever it was we were doing, but I only hope he's not doing it out of fear now. Fear...I have the power to tell. And I don't want it. I don't want that power.

 

I wouldn't ever want him to leave for me. That isn't how it works. For one, he's a liar (and I'm just as bad as he is now) who I just roll my eyes at now, and secondly, it's too much drama. I'm still dating other people so I can find my own jack ass that will ruin me, once again. We can then shout I received "karmic justice" where we have one particular thing I did that will come back to haunt me. Someone I can "lay claim" to and eventually have him do the same thing to me. Or, if I can't beat it, shouldn't I become it? I mean, nobody is being faithful to anyone these days, apparently not even to themselves. Words unspoken, hidden, secrecy, lies.

 

I had a therapy session where we discussed this at great length. Of course, she doesn't want to see me ruined, going down this path. But as a woman who has been married for 30 years, she said, "I know that this is something you feel you have to do. Sometimes, we find ourselves in this position of having to follow our hearts." I feel terrible...all of her hard work, seemingly undone. "Am I a bad person?" I asked her. "No. You aren't. He is responsible for causing this," she said. I don't believe her.

 

"Man, oh man, oh man," I looked into the mirror last night and whispered. I sprayed myself with perfume and tousled my hair. I put on a dress, high heels, and a sweater. "Here!" His text read. I shook my head and finished my beer. I strolled to the front door thinking, "Now, I am a mistress. I don't want this." I opened the door and slapped him.

 

He walked inside and kissed me.

Edited by LostInTheWild
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Today, my mom asked if I wanted to go to lunch with her again. I obliged and she was here to pick me up within the hour.

 

I'm lucky to have my parents here to figure out everything and to understand life better, so I'm learning to take the opportunity to ask my mom questions about the past that I never cared to know before.

 

"Mom, was dad married when you first got together?" I asked her right away. I'm sure she wonders where the hell I come up with this stuff, but I do remember he was married previously and had three children with his ex-wife, so...I was curious as to how that dynamic played out in their history. As it turns out, like usual, I got more than I bargained for.

 

She told me that my dad was married when she met him and he told her that he had many affairs previous to her. He hated his wife at the time because they never got along. So, as the fairy tale went...He had affairs with married women. He got one woman pregnant, but my mom didn't know if that baby was ever born. "He probably has kids all over the place!" she exclaimed. Then, when he fought in Vietnam, he had a Vietnamese girlfriend and she fell pregnant around the time the troops were pulled out. "She either had the baby when he was there or she was pregnant when he left," my mom explained, not really knowing. That puts my potential brothers and sisters up to about 6 or 7. I only knew of 3...

 

My oldest brother lives in Germany now, working at a wonderful place. I told her I wish I was in contact with him so I could potentially move there. She asked why I didn't ask my dad about him to see if I could contact him. "Mom, my other brother told me that **** doesn't want to see me. He doesn't like what I represent, which is his family being torn apart because of you and me. And dad always wanted to keep us separate...even now, he doesn't even like me talking to my sister."

 

"Well, he probably just doesn't want you to get hurt," she offered. "Wait, how in the hell would I get hurt?" I asked. "I don't know," she responded. "Anyway, how did dad end up with you?" I asked her. She told me he went back home (they were stationed somewhere else when they met), they got into a fight and he pulled a gun on her!!! She never asked him to leave. "Um, wow and you stayed with him?!" I shouted. She knew what he was like! Then, she started telling me he was having an affair with a married woman when he met her. "That's just the way life is, LITW," she comforted. "Well, I don't want it, mom. It's awful," I told her. "Well, there are happy moments in life. You just have to take the good with the bad." I found no comfort in those words.

 

Apparently, my mom's sister also has a tawdry history with married men as well. Hers, though, already had one foot out the door anyway, but I remember a couple of these men being present in her life when I was a child. One was in the process of getting divorced, had seven children (!!!), wound up broke and living in a dump after he and my aunt broke up (apparently he was an ******* too). The other one was separated. His wife was a doctor so he had a lot of money. They broke up because (!!!) he wouldn't let her bring a piece of crappy furniture into his house (!!!). I have to giggle at that...

 

My grandmother did the same thing as well. What I can't understand is the complexity of relationships and the drives that pull us all over the place. Even before the age of the internet, women and men were doing this at even more alarming rates than what I originally thought. I mean, I thought the advent of the information age was setting us back and dissolving our societal values. Oh, how naive I was to even think that. I knew cheating was commonplace, but not on this scale. If I even talk to a few older ladies and ask them about love, deep down, somewhere all of them still carry a torch for a past love. It's so odd and I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this.

 

Life is far more multifaceted than I...ever imagined. The older I get, the more uncivilized I realize we really are. We are animals living in a cage with a few hand-smacking rules, money, and decision-making complexes. The best life has to offer are alcohol and sex. Forming attachments with other humans? Eh, I'm rethinking that. In fact, I think, "No, thanks."

 

It's difficult to swallow this...I have a niece and a nephew I've never met. When will I ever see them? The closest things I have to my blood family are my half-siblings and I may not even know who some of them are? Well, that's just great! I wonder if they wonder about me. I wonder if I will ever meet them? But all of this also begs the question, why did dad stay with us? I can't seem to figure that one out. He didn't love me more. He didn't love my mom more than the others. I'm still not speaking to my dad, but hell, he wouldn't tell me even if I asked! I'm being shielded from everything that has to do with myself and my family here. And I don't know why.

 

I've done a lot of **** I'm not proud of and I don't like sharing with other people. But, if it were my kid asking? I don't know...I hope I'd tell them the truth about their family. Family defines you.

 

Well, I sat there and kind of took it all in. Much to my surprise, mom bought me some pumpkin spice liquor. I just finished up the small bottle. I really dig October...I love pumpkin spice flavored drinks.

 

And I love breaking promises, too. I felt, in my moment of texting the EMT that I could fall in love with him. I saw him again after the fact, but I don't feel the same way and I don't think I want to see him again...I'm not sure. With all this weighing heavily on my mind, I may just still tell his wife so they can work on their marriage, and I can keep my eyes on the prize—getting my life together.

 

So...ahhhh, pumpkin spice is refreshing. Cheers!

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I just wanted to feel something again. And have it reciprocated. There is nothing else like unrequited love. Unrequited love lingers and consumes, but it never really manifests into full-blown heartbreak, at least not in my case, because it's potential was never fully realized. It was only a fantasy. It hurts, yeah. There is nothing like hiding beneath a veil of feelings and emotions that nobody can understand or relate to. Not being able to have a voice because you know it's not welcomed. And having the person you're seeing not even, ever, know. It simmers under the surface of everything you do, and you remind yourself that something will happen. Something will break down or build up. You have hope. Until it breaks down. Then it's gone. "It was only a fantasy," you tell yourself.

 

That was the most painful period of my life since my ex. But this last time with the European, it had less shock value to it, almost as if I were meant to become this feeling being who just deals with it in silence. I still miss that man. He will be the person I remember on my death bed. The story I tell as an old lady, just glowing. Happy, staring off into the distance remembering every touch, kiss, and glance.

 

A few cry-sessions later, and I resigned myself to the fact that I'm being toyed with. I'm under some sort of magnifying glass, being burned by the sun, just to be laughed at. I keep hearing the searing noise of, "Tssss..." Every time I think or do something. Every move I make. "Tssss...Get the other leg, too."

 

And then one day, I stood outside in the sun, under the magnifying glass with arms outstretched, and let it set me on fire. I have nothing to lose nowadays. The clock rolls by, time keeps passing, days turn into weeks turn into months, hopes diminish, hopelessness sets in, and I've twiddled my thumbs long enough. Right or wrong, I'm slowly learning that life is lived in moments. The more precious the moments and the more I embrace them, the more I can take with me when I die. The happier I will feel when I have something to reflect on that makes me smile, even if everything is doused in negativity. I just kind of feel bad that this is what life is.

 

Now that I don't have the camaraderie of being in the workforce and make friends that way, I find myself extremely lonely, even if I don't realize it. I'm not sure I would have made it all these months without doing online dating, actually. Just having someone (or several people) there to take my mind off of things has been a welcome change, but something more sinister is starting to drip-feed it's way into my heart again. And I'm not even sure if I want to fight this. I'm old. I'm tired. Penniless. Going senile. Trapped within the confines of my soon-to-be ex house. Some days, I wake up and just want to get out of bed, pack a bag, and walk away from everything. Take some twinkies, a gallon of water, and see where I wind up. You never know. I just don't want to be me anymore. Although it makes a very entertaining read for some, it is hell trying to put together 300 puzzle pieces all from different sets. The picture isn't clear. It has no purpose.

 

If I can't be honest in my own thread, there is nowhere else I can tell the truth. So here are the goodies. The reason you're reading this.

 

Online dating has proven to be a humdinger. It's flat ground. There are too many "undateables". I've met two guys off the site that I really liked. One was The Cop. Okay, so he did get back in contact with me about a week ago and tried to pick up where we left off. I told him we could be friends, but that disintegrated quickly when he thought it was appropriate to have sexual conversations with me. My attention was diverted elsewhere anyhow. Yet one day, I discovered it was not okay with him that I am a sexual person and was not, in fact, waiting for him to declare his love and drive up here to meet me. It was okay, however, for him to have sex with other people while he was talking to me. No thanks, I'll pass on that double standard. He stopped talking to me shortly thereafter, last week.

 

Since then, I log on every few days and as my attraction increases for the EMT, my interest wanes in searching for "S.S. Dreamboat 2,000". This is something I fully expected since I met him. It happened almost immediately. But I'd be doing myself a great disservice if I took my profile down. So I keep it up, hoping someone will catch my attention. It's not happening, and even when I leave the house, I realize there are limited opportunities for myself. I look at the men around me and they've lost my fascination. I think, "Oh, there's another a**hole. He's cute...so he must be extra ****ty."

 

It almost feels like my trust doesn't exist anymore. It's a weird haze to live in. It's almost like I never even knew what it was, so I don't miss it. I forget what it feels like to trust someone. Every other word a person says, I half-expect it to be a lie, and I lose interest in what they're saying.

 

So blessed are we to have hormones! Those are lies too. They can trick a person for many years; building something that shouldn't exist, and tearing down the thick, muggy fog in the end.

 

I was chatting with the EMT a couple of days ago, and he seemed to hint that he was having feelings for me. It's been a month. He admits he's infatuated with me, thinks I'm "adorable", thinks I'm "amazing", and "his heart is growing". Mine is too...whatever that means. I shut him down though, and turned the subject to sex where it belongs. He wants to know me; I know he does. He tries. He puts in effort. However, there is something unforeseen happening on my end. I'm putting on that "front" I had with the European. That, "I'll be cute for now, but I'll keep my feelings to myself," act. It feels too...inappropriate for declarations of love. I know affairs are fiery, passionate...but I've been beaten down too many times to let anyone see who I really am. I do have feelings for him, though. I just don't even know how to say it. I think this morning, he came close to saying something that would make me regret existing...

 

The temptation is there. The temptation is there for me to just cut everything loose and be myself...open up...see where it takes me (nowhere with him, we already know), learn by way of this situation...Experience the passion again. Feel the longing again. Identify with the primal urge. But that is playing with fire. I will get burned. I'm still trying to decide if that is something I can live through. Because I have. Because I can. I just have so much doubt.

 

He says he wants to spend an entire day with me. He says he will have more time for me once he quits his second job. I asked him if he thought that would be risky...doing things like that on his days off. "Na, it's fine." All I can think when he says these things is, "How does your WIFE not know?" If he were my husband, he wouldn't have gotten as far as he has. He would have been caught and divorced within a week. I never understood the oblivious nature of blindly trusting anyone. Maybe it's because I lost so much time trusting someone and living in denial that it has changed my perspective. We can only wonder.

 

This blase attitude makes me question his marriage. Are they really so estranged that she can't see him on the phone all the time? Coming home late? Spending so little time together? Wondering where the money is if he is saying he's working? Or, and I fear this the most, is she under his spell believing everything he tells her? Fantasizing that this is a love like no other and 20 years later will be none-the-wiser? Or I could tell her...but the deeper I get, the less interest I have in doing so. I don't know which choice would be more honorable. I only know that I'd want to know, but many of my friends disagree. I'm just "like" that. I have an inquisitive mind. Inquiring minds always want to know, even if it's damaging. But I've never met anyone who enjoys mystery like I do. I will put myself through anything to get the story, to find out, to know the lies that so many people masquerade as the truth.

 

Still, this morning, I got to relive a past life. It made me kind of sad in a way. It reminded me of my ex. He would chase me around the condo, wrestling with me, letting me get away, and I'd giggle as he covered me in kisses once he had caught me and pinned me down.

 

He came over early, at the end of his shift. I was still doing my morning routine, so he crawled into my bed. He's not mine, I thought. I climbed on top of him and massaged his back. He is worn thin and tired. Working two jobs, raising three kids, and now carrying on an affair. We talked for a while and even though he's a liar, what I deem to be the scariest kind of person, he's actually pretty awesome. We get along so well and that is also another scary part.

 

I laid down beside him, and he tried to peel my clothes off. So I fought him, playfully, getting pinned down, squirming around, and launching myself off the bed, running into the hall where he caught me. I debated fighting back. I laughed so hard until that memory came back of my ex. Then I let him pick me up and drag me back to bed. I didn't fight as much, partly because of the memory, partly because now when he smiles at me and laughs, my heart just can't take it.

 

When we have sex, he likes to look into my eyes. This is something new for me. It builds intimacy that I never knew could exist, which is odd. I did work in business, however, so the importance of eye contact in those situations seems relevant, but I didn't realize it translated into these types of areas so well. I don't even know why I'm adding this in here. Maybe one day I might want to reread it.

 

Then, when it's over, we cuddle and talk. He has no issues holding me, stroking me...and all I can think, sadly, is, "I truly wish he was single." This morning, he was much more chatty. I asked him if he thought I wanted to see him too much, asking for two times per week (and I cringed). He doesn't think so at all. I remember him telling me before all of this that he would spend everyday with me if he could. And we lay there...sometimes he naps, sometimes he talks, most times I just stare into his eyes. He has the most beautiful eyes I've literally ever seen. But still, these are the eyes of someone untrustworthy, and we play a delicate dance...him being paranoid that I'll tell by disguising his requests with "pretty" excuses (I wasn't born yesterday), and me collecting evidence just in case I need it. There is no trust. I'm tired of the games, but these are the games we play. I wish I could rewind my life, back to birth. I'd seek him out in life before all of this just to have a clean slate and no drama or baggage. Just so I could really know him. But maybe it's better that I don't.

 

When he stands at my door, ready to leave, I'm sure my expression says, "Please don't go." And he will hug and kiss me again before he's out the door. I turn the lock, and imagine it never happened. When he's gone, I don't feel a hole or a blow. Yet. I just have even more questions. It's the questions that eat me alive because I won't get the answers I so desperately want.

 

Despite the dog and pony show (pun intended), I feel like I'm happy to have my future blacked out. I don't have to dream. I don't have to have the courage to, because I already know where the road leads. Knowing keeps my hands tied and my brain in check. I only wonder how it will end and how badly it will hurt. Will she call me? After she finds out, will he drop me like a harlequin sinner? Will he "dump" me? Will I "dump" him? Will we just drift apart, responsibilities consuming our lives? Will this hurt? Hell yes. That's the only answer I have.

 

I know it will because he dropped his phone in the toilet a night ago. He called me from his job. The number flashed across my screen and I thought, "I guess that's her. Time to explain." But no, it was him, letting me know that he would be out of touch, unreachable...I was fine. This morning, he said he'd call me if his phone doesn't dry out. Today, I've felt pangs of sadness because I can't communicate with him. But I'm okay. For now. Because I can be.

 

I'm just waiting to slide off this slippery slope only to land in mud, right back to where I started anyway.

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I got out of the house today, and decided upon my favorite past time I've been neglecting for quite some time. It may have been a month since I've gotten out and hit the trails. I can't remember. Either way, it was getting dark, but it felt like home to me, to be able to sink my feet into the gravel, to stretch my legs, to feel my heart banging in my chest and my lungs fighting for air. The fall leaves covered the ground, yet the trees were still vividly colored in orange, red, and yellow hues. It was a truly beautiful run. I thought, "What if I keep going? And just run away? How far could I go?" I didn't want to stop, but I am a mere mortal.

 

I thought about lunch with my mom. I tried to focus on the leaves crunching beneath my feet, but I couldn't get the lunch out of my mind. She came to pick me up today and we talked some more. I had every intention of telling her that I was dating a married man to see what she would say. I couldn't do it though. That would make it real. And I didn't want it to be real.

 

And as such, on the ride home, I blurted it out, "Mom, I'm dating a married man." She's so candid and unaffected sometimes, it's almost frightening. Maybe that's where I get it from. "Oh, what does he do? How many kids does he have? Uh huh, I see..." she asked and responded when I told her I didn't want to give the details. I said, "Mom, aren't you supposed to be telling me not to do this? That's your job!" And she said, "Well, he's not going to leave her for you. That's a fact. So, don't get that in your head. Just keep looking for a guy who can give you everything you want and don't pass up all the other opportunities you get. I dated plenty of married men (!!! WTF) and it usually ended because I moved away, being in the military and all. They all treated me well, but one guy stopped talking to me because his wife found out." Hmm, she has quite the sordid past. I didn't press for any other details. Upon my exit out of her car she said, "Don't fall in love with him. It'll ruin you." I just shrugged and said, "Mom, I'm better being at a distance anyway. I'll go get myself a guy who will do much worse...right...And everyone hurts you." I hopped out and trudged inside. Mom actually got it right. I should ask her for more help once in a while. I didn't expect that. Ah, what years of experience can teach...

 

That was a nice, heaping dose of reality I kind of needed to hear. But I guess in some ways, I have to know for myself. I have to touch the fire to understand how it burns, how it blisters, how it weeps, how it scabs, and how it heals, how it scars...how it feels. I just want total emotional mastery in life gained by way of experience. I need to know.

 

But this break from speaking with him with his phone being out of commission has set me back. I've regained my composure in a way that lets me see things more clearly. Of course, there is always that lingering hope that something will turn in my favor (I'll meet my match, get a job, be successful). I'm having such a hard time finding my footing right now. I'm having an extremely difficult time believing in myself again. Or just believing in others and that magic that life has to offer. I want to feel alive. The last time I felt alive...I went skydiving three years ago. It woke me up. I faced my fear of heights. I conquered my fears. And here I sit today unable to find that courage in myself once again. I merely exist. Barely. What happened to me? I was driven, happy, dynamic...contagious...I can't remember when I snapped. I have no idea how the switch flipped off in my mind. I have no idea how I started using alcohol to numb myself, to hide who I am, to make myself happy. I haven't been happy in many years, but where do I find the courage to try?

 

I will start running regularly again. That's where I'll start. Lose weight. Regain my confidence. Nourish my strength, inner and outer. She's there...she's still in there, I know it. I just have to coax her out again, but this time wearing all the scars...setting down the armor. I can still change this. I can still reinvent myself and harness my own power. I know life hasn't beaten me down that much, or has it? I can only try. Keep fighting until I don't have to fight anymore. That's the only way to do it.

 

In the meantime, if he stays gone, he stays gone. I will not go out of my way to contact him. I actually don't initiate conversations anymore since finding out, so I'd be surprised if he did vanish, but it wouldn't bother me now. I'd be happy for him that he grew a conscience. He can fix his marriage. I can fix my broken spirit and screwed up life. I can move on. I always will until I don't. I'm breezy that way.

 

Next year, when my life is hopefully sorted, I'm out of here. I'm leaving this state. My mind is made up. I can't stay here any longer. It's time to go find a new life. I'll be a runaway.

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It's raining in the wild.

 

Some trees have lost their green envy and are turning different shades of colors. Leaves coat the cold ground and mossy, fallen logs. The years spent here, trying to escape, have only caused more misery. And now it rains. It's cold. And another season is passing.

 

I wander around with my wet hair sticking to my face. It's matted now since I've been out here for so long, with twigs and dirt. My long, flowing dress is tattered and torn; it's no longer white, instead, it's black. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. I wonder when I'll be discovered or allowed to have things return to the way they were. I wonder when I'll get to go home.

 

I settle in under a tall tree to stay dry and to figure out how to flee this place. It has become a prison, terrifying me. The noises, the creaks, the animals, the dark...But there have been moments of beauty, too. The sunrises, the warmth, the mist, the fields...

 

I grab at the earth beside me, sinking my fingers into the soil once again as it feels differently this time. It's wet and muddy. I keep digging because something tells me to. Soon there is only me and this hole I've dug. Soon thereafter, I dig up an old mirror and I get to see myself for the first time in years.

 

Only, she is not who I expected. I feel great confusion. It rains even harder and the tree no longer keeps me dry. The mirror is wet, blurry, foggy. I can't really "see" her. In a flurry of denial, I throw the mirror and it hits a log, shattering.

 

There is lightening now...and I'm not sure where to turn for cover this time. I'm too far from the brush. The thunder rumbles and shakes the entire wilderness—and me too.

 

I curl into a fetal position and cry. I cry because I want answers. I cry because I'm stuck. I cry because I love. I cry because while things out here change each season...the undercurrent remains the same.

 

It's raining in the wild. And I won't dare move from this spot, even if the rain and tears sting my eyes as I stare out into the beyond.

Edited by LostInTheWild
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The unbearable questions I was chewing on...I got some of them answered. I couldn't tolerate walking around scratching my head anymore so I jumped on my first opportunity to peel him open like an onion.

 

"What do you tell your wife?"

 

He tells her he's working late, and due to the nature of his job, he is able to pass that off as being probable. But it begged the question of finances, "Does she not notice you're not getting paid?" And he remarked, "As in accounting for pennies?" Hmm...okay, I guess he doesn't notice that then. He says she doesn't look. ***

 

I questioned how he would actually get to spend a full day with me, as he had suggested it would be sometime in the near future. He said he would use vacation...

 

I then asked if he had sought out or had affairs before me. He said that he has looked. Before he moved back to our state, he tried when he lived in another. He said he met two women. One wanted nothing to do with him while the other was 40 pounds heavier than her photos (meaning, he set up a dating profile out there as well). In our state, he met a woman but they didn't click because she wanted marriage and children, so that didn't go anywhere (he thought she was crazy). Queue, from yours truly, the ball and chain jokes. Then he met this sucker typing this out right now.

 

I asked why his wife thought he had cheated previously, because he had mentioned it before. He said he had a hot partner (EMT), and he texted her some innocent things. She was married and loved her husband and wouldn't have even considered him, but his wife found the texts and assumed the worst. He didn't even do it.

 

He says in her mind, he would have cheated twice if she found out about us and she would throw him out on the street. I told him that's not really going to happen. She has three kids with him. She'd quite possibly want to make it work and they'd go to marriage counseling, probably coming out clean on the other side of things. He disagreed and said he knows her...but then why is he handling this like...it's nothing? Then he said he isn't ready to be apart from his kids despite the fact that they don't get along. He mentioned he would be devastated. "Why are you even doing this then?" I asked him because he's risking his family to fill some void he has. "I guess I'm just greedy."

 

He went on to tell me he likes me a lot, all that fluff and stuff. I wasn't sure how I felt at that point. I just knew that I did like him, so...

 

***Then last night, the night he was supposed to come over, I received a text from him stating that I had jinxed him. I was like how? He went onto explain his wife was wondering why he wasn't being paid for the late nights the past month or so. He blamed it on his job. And apparently she bought it (but I'm not so certain of that—he is, but men are clueless when it comes to this sort of thing).

 

This is where things turned for me, out of my favor...A pivotal turning point if you will...

 

My heart sank when he told me that. I thought he would end the affair. And at this point, I realized...I'll miss him a lot if that happened. He's not mine to miss...He's not mine at all, but I wanted to hold onto him.

 

Instead, he told me he's going to need a new alibi. The staying late excuse isn't going to work anymore. So I suggested he gets a "gym membership". He liked that idea. I guess he'll try it.

 

But I couldn't believe I started a conspiracy. Operation: be selfish, don't let her find out. I didn't know I had it in me.

 

I wondered if he would actually come. He said he would. But it got later and later...his job kept him tied up. I left my door unlocked. Then...I heard him come in. I laid in bed, playing a game on my phone, but my heart was pounding. I felt alive.

 

His head emerged as he scaled the stairs to come up to my bedroom. His eyes were tired and he seemed exasperated. He knelt down on the floor beside me, took his hat and glasses off, then he kissed me. I never felt such a sense of urgency in me before this. I just thought, "This could be my last time..."

 

It was very passionate. In between gasps for air, he told me he missed me so much, I told him I missed him...He stopped and told me he could smell me when he walked in and he just wanted to breathe me in. Then we kissed again and the night took off.

 

My body...it betrays me. Shaking, twitching...it was different this time. I knew my feelings deepened at that point, much to my dismay. It was horrific knowing that. And he seemed more hungry, more "animalistic"...just more...

 

Before, I might have just said...eh, guys it's just sex. I like the guy, but I know it won't go anywhere. Now it's more than just sex. I'm still very much aware that it won't go anywhere, but it makes me feel good right now, in the moment.

 

"Drink wine, it's what remains of the harvest of youth — the season of roses and wine and drunken friends. Be happy for this moment, this moment is your life." —Unfaithful

 

What did I do? I told him. I told him I had feelings for him because you know...I have a hard time doing that beyond the, "I like you," quip I typically use. You know what he did? Looked at me with puppy dog eyes. He didn't flinch. I think it would have been perfect...if he wasn't married.

 

Silly girl...I texted him and told him I felt silly telling him that. He assured me that I shouldn't because he really likes me a lot. :\

 

So, beyond the typical idle chit chat we have every day, we have also started playing a word game through an app, which is a lot of fun. I still haven't figured out how his wife doesn't notice that his face is buried in his phone. It is still a mystery, and I love a good mystery.

 

Today, however, I found another piece of information I didn't really care to know. I was telling him how to create the build for him to get a gym membership, because if he just went out and got one it would seem weird considering the late nights and not getting paid in U.S. dollars...Men can be so...dumb. They really underestimate the women they cheat on. But anyway, she checks his phone GPS on occasion. Because she doesn't trust him...rightfully so, but I have a feeling this has been going on a long time.

 

I'm carefully staring into fire, watching it dance around, glowing with reds, yellows, and blues. I reach out to touch it and feel the stinging, burning sensation...but I can't stop.

 

Morally defunct, corrupt, bankrupt, broken...whatever the hell this is called. I'm a monster. Now, this is what I call an "affair".

Edited by LostInTheWild
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LostInTheWild

Ah, visiting a friend. The long, lost, friend buried in the throws of a new relationship.

 

The wondrous gasping for air in front of people who don't have that—or do, whatever...

 

The kissing, the puppy eyes, the sweetness. The newness and the novelty. All encompassing of a new relationship.

 

My friend seems really happy. And I'm so happy for her. All she can talk about is him. And I feel...rather guilty that all I have to talk about are figments of my imagination.

 

Every time they kissed or made a sweet gesture towards each other, I didn't feel envious or jealous...It was weird for me. I felt like a grandmother who has lived that life before and knew where it leads.

 

The long road into the future that winds forward, stretching into the nether...where possibilities of youth are endless. That window is black for me, and for some reason I'm perfectly content not making plans, but rather, wondering, "What if...?"

 

It's like it has always been for me. Waiting, wondering, hoping, and crying.

 

Someone tells me they miss me. Someone misses my kisses. Someone misses my laugh. My charisma...but nobody misses me. Nobody can wait to come home to me, do nice things for me, or love me like that.

 

I barely talked about it. I couldn't say much. There isn't more to complain about other than dissecting the situation and...rather than unravel the mystery, maybe I should just enjoy it and let it evaporate like everything always has.

 

The wind chimes sing in the wind as they dance around. It is windy now. This reminds me how fleeting everything really is, like trying to grab one of the blowing, noisy chimes, and trying to quiet it. It's difficult to do, but it can be done. The noise is unnecessary.

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