I know every inch of his face and he knows every inch of mine. If I had never let things progress, I wouldn’t feel the hurt tugging on my heartstrings when we needed to disguise our relationship or feel the jealousy when he went home to his wife, as he always did. I could have all the space I wanted and I would hear no complaints from his end. But what started out as a simple, no-strings-attached relationship (or at least the illusion of one) evolved into much more. Maybe it was the jolt of electricity we both felt when we first met and shook hands or maybe it was our mutual understanding of the other’s troubles. We became each other’s go-to when one of us needed support.
I order his food (one Belgium waffle on the soft side, a plate of crispy bacon) and he orders mine (a short stack, no butter, a bowl of fruit, a side of extra crispy bacon). And the casual friendship-with-benefits morphed into a caring, loving relationship. They didn’t know what was going on; all they knew was my seemingly unnecessary depression.
We sit, together in our love, relishing every second. You would think after three years of dating a married man, I would be used to this. I could see the aurora dancing in his eyes when he saw me, and he could see the sparkle in mine. I didn’t expect to miss him when we weren’t together, I didn’t expect to become so attached to his children that they felt like family, and I definitely didn’t expect to fall in love. What I thought could be something simple ended up being a stressor. Our time together was constantly cut short so his wife wouldn’t find out. I trudged back and forth to work amid discussions of counseling, tentative hugs and attempts at forcing me to eat. The only thing worse than bearing that heavy a weight alone is carrying it yourself.
A car pulls up outside and warrants his cursory glance. The couple in the car comes inside and he follows their every move. He stares for a moment, then snatches his hands back from the table. But it still stings just as much as the first time we ran into a relative of his and I had to “hide behind the oranges” in the grocery store. We knew each other inside and out, our lives so intertwined we were hard to tell apart. 7 GIANT Clues Your Relationship Is Doomed But I didn’t count on the pitfalls of this type of relationship. I was jealous and angry and crazily in love, and at times, so hurt I could barely stand. He would tell me grand stories about how we’d be together full-time someday. A small part of me believed him, but the rest of me knew better. We had such an intense connection that I was convinced living without him would be so much worse than enduring the agony of sharing my man. Our love for each other stayed strong, but the relationship had collapsed.
And depending on how you both got involved, don’t expect much respect from his friends and family, either.
“A woman of substance and self-respect would not enter into this type of relationship.
If anything, you’re helping him prolong his current marriage situation as you’ve now become a safety net.You went into your second relationship hoping for marriage. You weren’t looking for “terminal.” Your love life was very acceptable up until this point. I stopped with your question about how you got to the point of dating a married man. I see only one problem relationship here, and that’s the one you’re in right now. You were young and in school, long-distance, or experimenting. when you meet a man who is married, don’t ever begin to size him up as somebody you could date.
It makes sense that you dated those men until it was time to break up. Based on how you framed this letter, I assume that this guy is 100 percent married, not out of the house and waiting on his divorce papers. Like Meredith said, you’re not entitled to be with this man simply because your past relationships didn’t pan out. Maybe one day, after all the lost time, he will join me and my September will come.