Part 1: talk therapy
Hi,
I don’t know who to talk to about this but to you. I hope that it’s okay that I am writing to you before our session. I have been crying like a teenager experiencing my first heartbreak for the last three hours. Why? Well, remember that man I told you I was interested in that I see around campus? He is a contractor who does some work there occasionally and has been around every day this summer. He is also someone that I noticed over two years ago for the first time when he gave me a ride across campus. Ever since then I have noticed him and he has noticed me. This summer he and I developed a rapport of sorts. We had long, extended eye contact every time our paths crossed. I would almost call it staring. We started saying hello more and having small interactions. I started thinking about him a lot more. I introduced myself formally to him last week, at which time he reminded me that we had met a while back. He started greeting me by name and then, yesterday, came up to me out of the blue and asked me where I was going for lunch. That was when I had a note ready in my pocket to give him. I knew that my words would not come out at all if I used my mouth. I gave him the note and walked away.
The note said that I think he is cute (I actually used that word). That he should let me know if he is ever interested in having a drink or something. I didn’t include my number as I figured it was just a way to let him know without the burden of a phone number attached.
My stomach was in knots after this note was delivered, wondering what would happen next. I lost my appetite completely. I thought that it was almost a sure thing. I thought it was the right move, even though it was out of character for me. I thought so because I knew that he would intentionally run into me every single day. At least that’s what I thought.
Today, as I walked outside, he came up to me and said thank you for the note. That it was sweet and that it was one of the best things that he has received in a while. He said that he is married (no ring, by the way). That if he wasn’t, he would love to take me up on my offer. He said that he enjoys seeing me around. I told him no worries. I will get over my embarrassment, eventually. I slowly backed away from him as we spoke as, inside, I was about to explode. It was like a nightmare when I heard his words. I got out of there fast, went to my car and started to cry. I can’t stop crying. I can’t believe how much I let myself think about him and believe that this was the person I was supposed to reach out to and that this was the right thing to do.
I’ve been trying to do online dating over the last few days but the only person I can think of is him. It makes me think that I have no common sense for this stuff. I feel heartbroken and I know that I’ve done it to myself.
Thank you for being there for me and for helping me these last few months. You have been invaluable. I really was feeling so good and now I have fallen back into sadness. I know that it will pass, but it really sucks.
I look forward to seeing you next week.
Part 2: talk therapy continued
Hi again,
First of all, thank you for being there and for listening and for sharing so many of your own stories with me. It has been invaluable. I don’t think I can make it yet again this Tuesday. You may need to rethink our schedule and switch to another day. I am sorry, but I have written you another very long email below.
I am writing again to get something off my chest as I don’t know who else to tell. I told you on Friday that the married guy and I had a long conversation at the end of which he said that he did want to take me up on my offer to get a drink sometime. We exchanged numbers.
Last night we met up. It was 9:30pm and we met at a bar with a dark back patio. He got there first and ordered me a beer. I saw him there and it was like a dream. Everything glistened, including his eyes, the glass of beer and even the wood fence surrounding the patio. I was inside my own fantasy. He and I talked for a while. His disposition and thoughts on things so clearly lined up with my own. And he confessed to purposefully ending up in places around campus in order to run into me. He told me that he couldn’t stop thinking about me and I told him the same.
He was up for anything with me last night and made that clear. I was also up for anything. He told me that he wanted to be sure I understood that we could not date.
We left the bar and walked out into the dark residential street. He stopped me and held me close to him. We kissed and made out for a few minutes there on the sidewalk. It felt like I was melting into a puddle of warm lightning. Finally.
The bar was near my house but my daughter was at home with two friends having a sleepover and so I couldn’t invite him over. We both agreed we needed to go somewhere alone and so we found a seedy motel. Yes, we did. It seemed the only next step. Before we did this there were a few awkward minutes in his car when we couldn’t find anywhere with an open room.
I learned that he is not in an open marriage and that this, according to him, was not something he had done before. We talked a bit about how good my note made him feel. How the expected monogamy of his long term marriage can cause him to feel lost and far away from himself. I discerned that keeping his family “stable” is very important to him.
I felt some guilt about this, like I was leading him into something that he could regret. But that feeling was overpowered by my selfish desire for him. He told me that he couldn’t make this a thing we did more than once. I told him that I understood and we both talked about how maybe this would resolve the tension that was distracting us both all summer.
As soon as we got into the room at midnight, his wife started calling him on repeat. He went outside to talk and came back looking solemn. Though she was out of town he was shaken by her asking him if he was out and who he was out with. He was not able to continue. He felt guilty and badly about what was happening. I told him that it was okay. That I was sorry about this and that I didn’t want to cause harm.
We left the motel and he took me home. He texted me once he was home and apologized for the way things ended. I told him again that it was okay and that I didn’t want to cause any harm. He told me he wished he was still there with me. I told him I wished that he was, too.
I’ve been in a state of extreme confusion, reflection, pain, and sadness today. I got up and got on my bike, rode to an exercise class and have been riding all around town ever since just trying to exhaust myself enough into…acceptance?
At the end of my exercise class, during the part where everyone lays on the floor for five minutes, just breathing, I thought of our conversation last week. Of how I tried to describe to you a time that I felt a true connection with someone. The person I told you about from my past, still haunts me to this day. I had a lot of desire for him, too. We had a connection but it was primal. Maybe it was not love, I realized there, lying prone on the floor. Maybe I’ve never experienced real true love for any man I’ve been with? And have they loved me? Certainly not the kind that was strong enough to bond us through our tumbles. This thought struck me hard and I left the class in tears.
So I got on my bike and rode for two hours until I got to where I sit now, writing to you. On my ride I did find pleasure. In the music playing in my headphones, in the sun and the wind as I peddled over bridges and under them. I stopped several times to take photos of the sky, of large metal pieces holding together the bridges, and of statues that for some reason are on rooftops. I thought of a quote that I had written down a couple of weeks ago from the novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. The author writes that “it was beauty, I learned, that we risked ourselves for ”. That quote represents, at least to me, a central theme of the book. Everyone in it experiences so much pain, but they have small moments, as the author pens out in poetic form, where they experience something that can only be described as beauty. These beautiful moments cannot be wiped out by the pain as they are intertwined. Would I have noticed the beauty today if I was not so torn up inside?
It worries me that I want this kind of thing. I want the passion and can’t stand these stale blind internet dates. I don’t feel anything when I meet these strangers. Even when they kiss me. Absolutely nothing.
Part 3: talk therapy concludes
Hi,
I am trying to take your suggestion and write. Today has been really hard and I feel certain that things are over for good between myself and the married man. Here is all I could write. I tried to do this instead of continuing to cry until my eyes swell shut. Sorry about all the swearing in this bit. You don’t actually have to read this. But if you are looking for a bedtime story…
Things have taken some turns and now my heart is on the floor. I am smashing it now with my laser eyes. They are actually just blood-shot, sad eyes with no special powers. Last week the married man and I met every day for a walk. We went off campus to a nearby park. I picked him up in my car and we drove together. We walked and talked and held hands. Everyday last week we kissed and learned some things about one another. It was so fucking exciting and so fucking romantic and so fucking dreamy. Everything about it. We felt so good in those moments. We would follow them up with goodnight texts about wanting to hold each other more. One of those days was a time at my house. Our third time and the best of all. We were more relaxed and more connected. He felt so good and we were so happy. I went to an exercise class after he left, smelling of sex and tequila. I was full of life and energy. We texted several times that night about how good we both felt. Until, on Sunday, when I texted him back too late after he had texted me. His wife looked at his phone and saw my text and that was the period at the end of our romantic sentence.
He called me last night and told me that she found my text. I was at a restaurant with my daughter at the time and had to step out to answer the phone. I knew it was bad as he had never actually called me before. He told me that he told his wife about me. He confessed to her that we had sex twice and had taken one walk. We actually had sex three times and had taken many walks and met for drinks a few times as well. He said that he didn’t know what was going to happen. I said that I was sorry and sad. That’s all I could think to say.
Today he called my work phone from his work phone. He said that his wife had smashed up and destroyed his phone in the middle of the night. He said that she had kicked him out of the house and told their two kids about what he had done. He said that she may come looking for me. He said that he regretted everything. That it was great, what we had, but that he wished that he had not done it. That he had fucked up everything. I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to jump into my arms. He just lost hold of his life and was ashamed and regretful and scared.
Tonight I texted him that I wanted to help in any way that I could. I told him that I would talk with his wife if she wanted and that I would agree never to see or speak with him again. I told him that I cared very much for him and would do anything to help. He texted back OK and that he would tell his wife. He said not to text him again unless he did first as he was not kicked out after all but at home and she could have seen my test. I burst into tears and banged my head on the kitchen table for 10 minutes after this right in front of my daughter. I was hysterical. The dream bubble ended in a heart smashing tornado.
I feel right now like an idiot and just plain unworthy. I feel so unloved and unimportant. I don’t have anything of substance with him. He is now engaged in a fight to save his marriage and family. This is what he wants, based on how he sounded on the phone with me today. I was all just flattery for him that felt good. In the end, it leaves me alone just as before. But worse even because now I know how good things can feel. So much of my mind and most of my heart has been captured by him for the last few months. I can feel it all. I have all the texts. He has nothing as he has to erase every text we have ever exchanged. I can’t erase them. They were so beautiful.
Part 4: reboot
Dear Me:
It has been over three years and I have long since fired my therapist. I never gave the other woman much thought. Of course that would never be me. I’ve always been the aloof and hard to get one. I’ve always been the one prone to almost cheating or leaving a boyfriend as soon as things get difficult, unwilling to work on it. But now I am that woman who loves a man who is married and will never leave his wife. He tells me that he wishes that we could be together. That we could sleep one night at least, together, in the same bed. I tell him I wish we could, too.
I love him. I will love him even if we can never be together. I tell myself that is okay, that is okay, that is okay.
Sometimes I tell myself that I don’t care about this whole thing all that much, anyway. I tell myself that I am good at compartmentalizing. I joke that I am dead inside. He jokes that he is, too. I will find someone eventually and forget about him. But then I procrastinate dating and shut myself off to others.
I’ve been in love with him for three and a half years. I wrote about all of that already, to my former therapist. She encouraged me to pursue my feelings for him, even after I found out that he was married. I stopped going to that therapist after his wife found out about our affair.
After his wife found out and he panicked and convinced her to take him back, I grieved and then I moved on and dated someone decent for a few months. When the pandemic hit I broke it off with this guy as I was afraid and could only think about my kids. I didn’t see the married man much during that year due to social distancing but, in 2021, we started to run into each other again. The first few times I felt sick and repulsed during our interactions. But then, after many months of him tracking my schedule and every move, I started to warm up to him again. I experimented over that year in changing up my routines and he would always catch on and figure them out and make sure we could talk a little bit most days. I was distant for so long and didn’t let him get closer than small walks and talking. But at some point things got more complicated again.
We have spent so much time together. How did I let that happen? At this point, the man who is married is the one that can read my mind and always knows when to check in. He always remembers what is important to me. He is thoughtful in a way that I have never before experienced.
Sometimes, when I think about how we will never be together outside of our stolen moments, our gum swapping, lunchtime walks and moments in the steam tunnel, my heart actually hurts. Heartbreak. Sometimes I think that his wife will realize that something is going on (again) and things will unravel. A bomb will go off in our lives and we will be in pain in other ways. That is not something I like to consider.
I don’t know who to talk to about this. There is nobody in my life that would not say STOP IT, STOP BEING DUMB. DON’T BE THE OTHER WOMAN!
Part 5: stupid girl
Dear Me:
The mind is a tricky beast. This week I have been reading a book called Radical Acceptance, by Tara Brach. She talks a lot about the pause and about observing your feelings in the pause without telling a story about anything- just being in the moment.
Where are these clues and moments of teaching leading me? Staring in the face of the married man. The person who is always there and yet not there at all. The person who tells me that he loves me and that I am his favorite person in the world. The person who tells me that he will be sad when I someday meet someone and I withdraw from him and can’t have physical intimacy with him (remember, he is married and can have sex with his wife but I can only keep having sex with him as long as I am not doing it with anyone else – according to him). Well, I have tried yet again to break it off with him. Last week I walked with him and yelled in the wind in his face that he had to let me go. That he had to choose, for fucks sake, between his wife and me. That I can’t stand the lying. That I feel tortured. That I am worth it.
“Why can’t you just tell her the truth? Why can’t you just tell her and then it can be out and you and her can work through it?”
Remember, she found out four years ago and you are still together. I can’t be part of this lying anymore. I can’t stand having a double life. I can’t stand that you won’t be able to be there for me if I really need you.
What happens to us in an emergency? We can’t be there for one another if one of us gets in an accident or is very ill.
He doesn’t have an answer to these questions. He says, as usual Just tell me what you want me to do. What do you want me to do?
Ug. Why do I have to tell him?
Whenever I explode like this and announce that it is over, he gets upset and turns red. He begs me not to go and tells me how much I mean to him and. Like last week, he stands a bit crooked and then cries on my shoulder and says he is heartbroken. In those moments I feel so frustrated and cold and then I warm up and usually cave in. But not this time. This time I felt much colder and even angry. I realize that I am afraid to let him go because it is a kind of loss that I don’t want to go through. He has come to take up so much space in my heart and my life. Who else will be so kind to me as he has been? Who will come fix my broken window, help me build a basketball court, bring me honey from his own beehive and salmon he fished from the river? Who else knows where I park each day and what I like to do on my lunch breaks and what I worry about and what I adore? Who else brings me flowers on my birthday every year and tells me that I am beautiful? Who else makes me a playlist for my road trip? Who else looks at me that way? Who else knows exactly what I am feeling and thinking based on a 5 word text message or passing glance? Who asks me about my weekend and knows about my kids interests and gets my sense of humor and grabs my hand when nobody’s looking? Who else checks in on me when I am sick and brings me soup when I have a sore throat? Jesus, he has even met my dad and my son!
But with all of this intimacy there is a price. The price of secrets. I don’t have a problem with non-monogamy. But this is not an open relationship. This is lying. I’ve tried to justify it so many countless times and I keep coming back to this feeling of emptiness and loneliness and sadness. I feel like a ghost. Like a disembodied being floating in and out of his world, glowing brightly when he sees me but fading into darkness on the weekends when I am alone and he is with his family. Those weekends when I try to rally to be interested in a random date that I will later tell him about, enjoying him relishing in my dissatisfaction with the man. Him fishing for compliments on his superior body and charm. “How tall was that guy?” “Did you kiss him?” What did he say to you?” “Tell me, tell me, tell me”.
So, I ask myself…how long do you want to keep this up? What do you really want, knowing he will never leave his wife or even tell her about you? Do you want to keep pushing things until something happens and she finds out…again? Is that what you want? No, you want to be loved and give love openly and honestly. You want to be able to spend the night with someone, even occasionally, holding hands and sharing a bed. You want someone to be there for more than one hour. You don’t want to have to lie and make up stories in order to have this hour. You want someone who is strong enough to tell the truth and to face hard things. You don’t want to be a fucking secret. You want him so desperately to let you go and yet that is also your greatest fear.
Part 6: denial
Dear Me:
The end of 2023 was a mix of euphoric love episodes and extreme emotional collapse. The more that I tried to end things with the married man the harder I fell back into his arms. Every day pulling in and pulling in and then some days pushing away and crying and him crying and us having to be in meetings together and me hating him and loving him in the same hour.
We spent more time together last year than in any other year. And in the last month, when I swore to myself and to friends that I would move forward and not look back, we did things we had not ever done before. His wife was out of town for three weeks caring for her dying father. One night he arrived at my house with a sleepover bag. I was stunned when he stood brushing his teeth in my bathroom as we got ready for bed. I was stunned that he brought a change of clothes to go to work the next morning. I was stunned when we were able to lay together and talk for hours. I was so stunned, my body and senses and nervous system a mess, that I was not able to sleep at all that night. I lay awake in bed the entire night in a state I cannot even describe. It was another fantasy come to life. We both pretended to sleep but neither one of us did. I made us both coffee in the morning and we went to work, exhausted and dazed. That may have been one of my happiest days. I was in a state of complete euphoria.
We went Christmas shopping together…at a mall. We held hands as we walked among the crowd. He took me on a date to a sushi restaurant where we pretended to be a normal couple. Normal save the constant looking over the shoulder and room scanning, just in case.
It’s now the new year. His wife arrived home today. Her dad is dead. The married man can no longer talk with me outside of work hours. This after we talked on the phone and in person and text countless times all day and night over the last three weeks. This is why I am writing. I am not sure what to do with my thoughts. Last night I went on a date. The first one I’ve been on in quite a while. I told the married man about it and he got upset and then we talked on the phone as I drove home from the date at 11pm. I wanted the date to go well so that I could make him upset. But part of me doesn’t want it to go well because a relationship will get in the way of my strange fucking “relationship” with him. He always tells me that we love each other and that we will love each other forever. This seems stupid as I write but the sentiment is that this is a connection that seems so unique and important and powerful that it defies the bounds of morality and rules. I would not be surprised to find out that other people have similar experiences as we have but it does not diminish the feelings. I only have this one life. How can I reject a feeling that is so much more powerful than any other connection I have ever had in my life with another human? Sometimes the married man reads my mind and I read his. He has a spooky way of knowing exactly what I am thinking and feeling.
I know that our relationship is a time bomb. I know that it may end up harming me in ways I don’t yet understand. . I’ve talked with him about this so many times and yet he wont stop. There have been many times when I’ve asked him to stop, to leave me alone. But then he is still there, showing up when I park my car, when I try to leave, in between my meetings due to his constant stalking of my work calendar. I always cave in.
Part 7: you are still stupid
Dear Me:
You finally reached your breaking point and I am proud of you. When he tried to convince you to take a long lunch so that he could meet you at our house you said no. When he insisted, you still said no. This time you finally realized what was happening. You finally realized that he was going to keep up this pattern forever and that you would have to take charge. You told the married man to fuck off and leave you alone and, despite his dramatic texts in protest including gems like “Fuck this life. I don’t want to live anymore. Goodbye if that is what you want”, you did not cave.
But, dear self, you may need to take some deep breaths to get through the angry phase of your grieving process this month. Your actions today may have been a bit much. I know you wanted to fuck with him and to see him panic and suffer so that you can feel better (and it did feel good), but telling him that you are going to tell his wife about the affair may not have been the best idea. He panicked and found you and begged you to stop. He confessed that he has been stringing you along for years and that he has no intention of leaving his wife and that she must not at all costs know. That he would do anything to prevent her from finding out. And that is when you remember that you are a woman dealing with a man and that you are not safe, that you do not trust him and that he is capable of anything. You became afraid and you wish you had not made those threats. You hope he doesn’t think you meant it because, maybe he would do anything? Maybe he would do something to hurt you? Why are you spiraling like this? Would he? What would he do? He has told me for four years that he loves me and is in love with me but does that matter? Oh shit, what did you do, you stupid woman. Tomorrow you will text him that you promise not to mention it to his wife, ever. And then you will reiterate that he must leave you alone. That he cannot try to speak to you or text you ever again.
Part 8: end of another summer
Dear Me:
It’s a full moon in August and I got my period today. I woke up uneasy after going up in the sky yesterday. I briefly let myself feel in love and loved just for a few hours yesterday. I knew it was foolish but did it anyway. I woke up anxious and with a sinking feeling that the weekend would not continue on a floral wave.
He called me yesterday and asked to stop by to talk. I agreed. He came over looking a lot less distressed than I expected. He seemed slightly happy as he told me that his wife had told him to do whatever and that she wanted a divorce. He joked that I could be his girlfriend now and I felt tense because he wasn’t being serious. How could he? He said that he just wanted to talk but that’s not really what he wanted. He asked to go to the bedroom to lay together. This is his code for sex though he never admits it. Here he is in the middle of a possible grand finale to his marriage and he tells me he loves me as we have sex. I don’t want to do it at first as I know better. He will tell me that he loves me but the next day he is just “confused” and still married. I told him that I loved him too. It hurts so much.
Last night I had a dream that a person that I work with arranged for male prostitutes to be available for all of us women that had a meeting together. In the dream I grappled with realizing what a problem it was to have sex with a prostitute paid for by my employer. A prostitute asked me if I was his next client and I said “no, she is right over there”. He walked away and so did I. Later I spoke with a woman who had just left the bed of a paid lover. She was extremely relaxed and happy and seemed perfectly oblivious to how strange it was that we were at a work function featuring prostitutes. Why was I the only one who realized how strange this was, how inappropriate? I thought at any moment the other shoe is going to drop and I will somehow be implicated in this, even though I refused the offer.
It’s like I am in a feature in a circus act gone wrong. I try to let him go but inevitably can’t and we talk and we lean into each other again.
How many people have had their secret friend/lover’s wife show up at their desks at work out of the blue demanding information? I am guessing not too many but obviously there are others. It may have been one of the most stressful interactions I’ve ever had. And the one in which I’ve told the most lies. Equally terrible, too, was listening to her tell me that he may have a crush on me but that’s it. And she kept dropping subtle hints about how close and intimate she and him are. I had to pretend that I was talking to a girlfriend, not the wife of my closest secret friend. I found myself liking her and seeing how much of an absolute con-artist he is. I am so angry that he put me in this position.
I keep trying not to cry and then do a little crying anyway. But I still feel terrible and need to let out a fucking flood of fire and water and wind.
I cried so much that I got a giant sty in my eye. An infection of the eyelid caused by too much inflammation and bacteria. I told my mom. I cried to her like a teenager and she got on a plane and came to visit me for a few days. She cooked me meals, took walks with me and waspresent in a way that I really appreciated. I spent years wishing that my mom and I could be closer, like this, and it finally happened. I am grateful to her.
I’ve not seen him much. I’ve asked him to leave me alone. One time we passed in the hallway at work and he gave me a stony look and turned away. Later that day he sent me an apology text, saying he was sorry. His reason for the look, he said, was that seeing me made him feel sad.
I’ve done the same thing to him. I walked by him today with my hand shielding my face as if to block the sun. Of course I then texted him and we ended up in a text feud followed by him calling me to talk. The problem is that, as soon as I hear his voice I break down, slowly and then faster and faster until my heart is melted cotton candy running down my chest.
The other day a guy that I have not seen or spoken with since college sent me a facebook message that said “I know that it was years ago, and that I should not be saying this, but I screwed up with you. I needed to get that off my chest”
I was surprised but not entirely. According to what I see on facebook he may be going through a divorce. I understand completely why he would be feeling nostalgic and retracing the threads of memory.
Part 9: the end
Dear Me:
As is a pattern, I eventually gave in to taking some walks with the married man. I told him about a couple of dates I’d had during the time we were not talking. I got pleasure out of complaining to him and he was clearly pleased to take in all of the details. I felt close to the married man for a moment and then he asked for hugs and I gave in a couple of times. My irritation with him, though, has been pretty thick and frustration that he continues to want me to be his secret best friend. He did the thing again where he reminds me that he is available for sex. My inner rage burning, I told him to fuck off a few times and yet he kept trying. Last week he told me about his dates with his wife and I got really upset and expressed it to him. His reaction was to try to make it seem like this is what I’ve asked for – that we are sharing our stories about our weekends with each other like normal friends. But I told him again and reminded myself that no, this is not what I want. I reminded him again that he keeps fucking with me and I am in a state of complete emotional fucked-up-ness and yet he continues. He did that thing again where he starts asking me questions like “would you rather I left you alone?” and “what do you think I should do?” that piss me the fuck off. I stopped responding to him. Sunday was my birthday and he texted me a happy birthday text but I did not respond. Partly because he is at home with his WIFE and partly because I can’t fucking believe his nerve. I am so over his asshole behaviors. I give in and think he cares about me but how could he? He is being a selfish asshole who only likes me as a secret fantasy. The one day he was “single” he couldn’t handle it and crawled back to his wife. One of the last times we walked I asked him what he wanted if he could have things exactly as he wishes and he told me that he wanted to continue to be married to his wife but for us to be friends for real. God.
I decorated my house for halloween. My son did a fantastic job of putting up webbing and we have some spiders. I think about the married man as my spider web. I can’t figure out a way out of the web and so just give in, over and over. Meanwhile my blood is being sucked out slowly over time until I am a husk with nothing left inside.
“Sharky says Hey sport, you connect the dots, you pick up the pieces. He says you know I can see two tiny pictures of myself and there is one beneath your eyes…he says, listen to my heartbeat…” (lyric by Laurie Anderson)
A body in motion 