Blog

January 31st

Six days after our first email correspondence we had arranged to meet for the first time at a bookstore near Sir’s home. I was coming from an appointment, it was after 7pm and dark, I sat in the parking lot for a moment so many things went through my head – “what am I doing?” “what if he’s crazy?” “what if someone I know sees me, how will I explain this?”… It was a short moment but millions of thoughts flew by.

I opened the door, texting to see where he was, and he called as I was about to walk in. He had just parked. I didn’t want to awkwardly meet inside, I didn’t want people to notice anything out of the norm especially if I saw someone I knew. I walked back towards the parking lot to meet him, my heart was racing as he approached and I kept thinking “what if he’s not the person in those photos”, thankfully he was, even better than the photos actually. We said “hello” and walked in together.

Sir was tall, not that it’s a hard thing to achieve when you’re only 5’ 1”, definitely handsome, and great teeth to match a great smile. He had this Mickey Mouse sweatshirt on that I won’t ever forget. Yes, sounds a little kiddish, but I won’t forget it. We had no what we were doing there, walked around the store aimlessly, talked about nothing of importance, but the conversation seemed to flow pretty easily. Don’t misunderstand, I was still nervous the whole time, but it felt good to talk with someone who I felt this comfort with.

We found ourselves in the Maps section of the store, we sat down. I sat on one side of the aisle with my back against the bookshelf, he against the opposite bookshelf. We were side by side, our legs out long, facing one another. I am sure my face showed my nervousness and struggle to make eye contact but he seemed so calm.

Time flew by, I hadn’t realized it had been a couple hours, it felt like we just got there when he had looked at his watch and realized he needed to get going. Throughout the previous six days he alluded to not having a lot of time on his own. Everything he did was with his wife and family. I, of course, wondered what he had told them to get out of the house at such a late hour on a school night. He was suppose to be at the movies watching the new Wolverine, or so they had thought. The movie had to end at some point, which meant our time together had to end as well.

We made our way back into the parking lot, we thanked one another for the evening. We began to say our “goodbyes” and both leaned in for a hug, but it wasn’t one of those “Hug, goodbye, walkaway” it became a long embrace. The embrace felt as though that’s where I belonged. As I mentioned, he was tall, bigger than I, not in an overweight kind of big but a protecting kind of big. I just fell into his arms, and he had this calming scent, I didn’t want to part ways, but it was inevitable.

I drove home that evening feeling invigorated, alive, excited. I was so full of energy, and couldn’t stop thinking when the next time I could spend time with this man would be. Did he feel the same? Of course, that feeling quickly faded. I came home to a man who was a three, maybe four drinks into his evening on a typical Tuesday night. No, not your typical Tuesday you say? Well, it had become a pattern in my household.

The Beginning to 300 and Something Days Unfaithful

Let me start by saying, the title says it all. If the subject angers you in anyway, I suggest you stop reading. What I have to share, it’s not something I am proud of, it’s not something you’ll be proud of, it breaks ethical and moral bounds, it is hurtful, and maybe even unnecessary. So what does it mean, what am I talking about, the question is where do I begin? Is it the day I met my husband, the day we got married, or is it the day I became a person I would not have friended or respected? How about a short summary of when my love life began.

My first “boyfriend”, 3rd grade, we will call him EJ. I mean, I was what, 8, maybe 9? He slipped me a valentine that read “I like you – EJ”. I kept that till… well it’s somewhere in my mothers basement. He was sweet, we held hands, we played at recess, did kid things at after school program. It was about as romantic as it can get in elementary. He was even my first kiss. We were in 4th grade at that point. Yes, I know, that is incredibly young, I believe it was a dare. Lasted a whole 2 seconds, till the teacher interrupted and broke things up. That was the one and only kiss we ever had. Summer came, and I moved away.

High school, that’s where I “feel in love”. I was 15-16 when my high school boyfriend found me, we’ll call him #21. I actually had no idea who he was. Though he was slightly older he was a grade below me so I had no idea who he was. I guess he saw me cheering early in the year, he would go to the games to watch me. Maybe I saw him, but didn’t take notice? I believe it was AIM when he tracked me down, or it was a mutual friend. Either way, he got my attention, and it was accelerated. He’d meet me in the parking lot before the bell, walked me to my locker, walked me to class. I would lie to my parents and say I had some extra practice but we’d go to the mall. Our first valentine, he somehow got into my locker and decorated it for me, my heart was racing, I was in love. We made out, A LOT, as teenagers who are in love do. We’d talked about “going all the way” on multiple occasions, finally the opportunity presented itself. Let me preface this story with, we were young, in love, and stupid, VERY STUPID. He somehow contracted mono, and was home from school. His parents worked during the day, so I skipped school to “visit” with him. We had been texting that we would do it that day. When I got there, he ran upstairs, grabbed a condom, ripped it open and we had 60 seconds of passion. Did I mention we never kissed once? HE HAD MONO! We were idiots, and laugh about the story from time to time. Fast forward a decade later, we’d continued to date on and off, and even ended up engaged. He was everything I had ever known, he knew my deepest darkest secrets, he was with me through so much, and I was with him through so much, it only made sense we’d get married… wrong! We planned this beautiful wedding, on my parents dime of course, we couldn’t afford it, we were young. As the day approached, I got scared, not to mention he cheated, but mostly I was scared. I wasn’t ready to be a wife. I wasn’t ready to move to another country. Oh yea, he didn’t live in the states at this time, I had to go to him for various personal reasons. I flipped, and called it off. It was a disaster. He was crushed, I was too. It brought out an awful side of him, I did what I do best and I just ran from the problem. To this day I know it was the right call, he will say otherwise, but now that the dust has settled we have been able to become friends… or distant acquaintances.

I’ll be honest, it wasn’t long till I met my husband. He was amazing. Strong. Intelligent. Ivy League. Career Driven. Dedicated. Loyal. Didn’t care what anyone thought. He had his life together. He was a breath of fresh air. He also was one to abuse alcohol, but we will dig into that later. We had a lot of fun together. Loved the same things, camping, snowboarding, hiking, and socializing. It worked, we worked. I let him have his life, he let me have mine, we enjoyed a life together, and could both pursue our careers. We, of course, had rocky patches. Through 5 years, we would take breaks, he would lie about dumb things, I would have high expectations, he would at some point betray my trust, but I couldn’t stop the way he reeled me in. It wasn’t till our last break he really changed, devoted himself into our relationship, became the man I knew he was capable of being then out of nowhere he proposed at a family event of mine. I didn’t see this happening, not then, but I wanted it, so I happily accepted. We, or I, planned a quick wedding, were married, moved in together, and remodeled a home. All within 7 months of getting engaged, it was a lot. Those first 6 months of marriage, WOW. Not in a good way. We’d never lived together, I don’t know if it was planning a wedding and remodeling a home, or because we were in our early 30’s and set in our ways, but it was rough. He was drinking everyday, we stopped having sex, we both were unhappy, but didn’t say a word. Then came our honeymoon. Because of our hectic careers we couldn’t go right after the wedding so waited 6 months when life slowed down a tad. It was beautiful. We went to a semi-private island, stayed in this very small resort, but my goodness was it gorgeous, and so romantic. We however we were not. The entire trip we bickered, and go to sleep with our backs turned. I remember one night we walked to another resort about a few miles away, it was dark, he’d been drinking all day, and was pissed about something, and walked away from me with the flashlight about ⅛ of a mile in front of me, I could barely see a thing. DICK! That is how we ended our trip. What had changed? I had always known about his over the top drinking, and we had a sit down conversation about our wedding day and how I would really like for him to not take advantage and drink like that on our wedding day. He understood, he even said he didn’t want that for our day. Of course when the day came, he was wasted, and acting foolish. I was embarrassed, but more than just that, I felt disrespected more than I ever had. It was our day, I wanted one thing, for my new husband not to be wasted to the point he would pee himself on our wedding night. He couldn’t give me that. If he couldn’t keep his one promise I asked on what should have been our most special important day, how could I expect him to do right by me through a lifetime of marriage. Talk about a revelation that was too late. I tried to be the happy newlywed couple, but I couldn’t pull off the act. I was beyond devastated and my attitude at home showed it, he just didn’t know why. After our horrible honeymoon, I felt more alone than ever.

Before I get into the next part I just want to say the stories before weren’t meant to create sympathy for me, I’ve just wanted to paint a picture of where I was through all of this. I don’t expect you to feel sorry, or for this to justify what I’m about to share. Again, I am not proud of my choices, but they are the ones I choose.

I turned to Craigslist, I found a platonic section and made a post. It read something to the effect of “I am a 30 something female, married, fairly attractive, and feel more alone than I should. I have no idea what I am looking for, a friend to chat with. I am certainly not looking to change my situation or yours”. Within hours I had received hundreds of messages. I started out reading each one, realizing people are crazy, disgusting, and presumptuous. I stopped reading them. Can I just emphasized hundreds of emails within hours! What kind of society are we that so many individuals were seeking something outside their marriages, absolutely horrifying, myself included. I’d refreshed my email and one came through with the subject “commonality” and I felt inclined to click on it. It read…

Hi:

Like you, I have no idea where to begin.  

I suppose I should get some of the physical and person details out of the way.  I hope it’s enough to at least start the ‘conversation’ and see what happens.

Here goes —- 6’1″, 205, 40, … good looking, pretty reasonably fit, … professional, confident, … also married, …

I, too, seem to be and feel lonely —- more often than I think I should (considering I have people in my life).  

I do not take lightly the fact that I even looked at Craigslist for something more, let alone responded to a post.  It’s certainly a first for me.

All things considered, though, I am actually a very decent, normal guy.  I have absolutely no agenda. I certainly have no intention of changing my situation (or yours).  

Discretion is, of course, a must.  I think we share equally in that responsibility.  

If we’re upfront and honest, always, perhaps we can enhance our lives.  What do you think?

Yes, I have attached a picture.  PG and discreet of course. I’d appreciate one in return.  

I look forward to getting to know you.”
I read that, and I was impressed with how well written it was, and I did not feel creeped out in the slightest. The photo he added shared nothing inappropriate, nor was his head attached. There was no insinuation of sex, or any line crossing. I felt comfortable to want to know more so I responded. We would then swap a few emails, a multitude of texts, a phone call and would meet 6 days from our first email.