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I thought I would get to this post sooner!

There must be some weird cosmic thing happening lately for me – I am seeing “signs” everywhere, but don’t know what to make of them all.

This past week on Tinder, I came across three men whom I have met before.

None of which I remembered.

The first I had previously called The Boxer. Last week I pulled two posts from my old blog to share here. We dated and had sex and I suppose I never heard from him again, or I never cared. I was not ready to be having sex with others when I met him, that much I recall as clear as day. I don’t recall the man at all, but I vividly recall how I felt in the aftermath of having sex post Bobby. It was pretty ugly for a while.

When we matched on Tinder he reminded me we had met before and asked to move to text so I agreed, curious to hear my own story which I had clearly forgotten. He said he wanted to take me out and he would tell me the story over drinks. I found it so strange I just couldn’t place him no matter how hard I tried. Photos, cues, nothing was ringing a bell for me. Then it dawned on me that I had blogged everything during the first two years of my separation…..so I went back and found him (and subsequently shared those posts last week).

He was very chatty and keen to take me out this past week. But, as soon as I told him I did, in fact, remember (which I really didn’t remember him at all, but after reading my post, I recalled the events – that’s really telling me there is no value in meeting this man again – I mean, we had decent sex and I don’t recall what he’s like!).,,,sorry, diverted….once I remembered he literally stopped texting with me immediately. Haven’t heard from him in a week.

Man #2 is another man I met on Tinder who reminded me we had met. We also moved to text because at this point I’m thinking, this has to be impossible that I have blacked out on my sex phase or post-Bobby phase – this can’t be normal? Glenn reminded me where we met and who I was with and none of it sounded familiar, but things about him personally DID sound familiar so I was confused. The long and short of it, he was also keen to take me out this week and we made plans – honestly, more out of curiosity – how is it possible this happens twice in one week? As the week progressed and we spoke I had a strong indication of why I wouldn’t have pursued anything with him the first time around, He was really on a different speed than me and we will most likely frustrate one another. He finally admitted to me this evening he realized it wasn’t me he met (I had already arrived at that conclusion) and he was worried I wasn’t really interested in meeting him. I explained I didn’t think we were a match and why, but I was still open for a drink the next evening since we had made the plans – as long as it was clear there should be no expectations. So…Saturday drinks it is – with the man I never met, but probably did communicate with and eliminated in a past trial.

Man #3 is a lovely surprise. I truly don’t know what it is. Something in the photo at first, then the text, and finally and surely in the voice. *Boom* little butterflies appear. Tony told me I spoke to him 18 months ago when he was finalizing his divorce and told him he wasn’t ready … and call me later! Lol. Sure enough we connected again, although I truly don’t remember ever connecting with him in the first place, we certainly hit it off this time. We spoke on and off all day today. I really hope I hear from him again tomorrow. I don’t know what makes that initial chemistry, but it really has a mind of its own and shows up when its ready.

I am not sure I am ready, I am still weepy and I still want Bennett back every day. I did break and text him last week and we have had intermittent contact. If there was a way for him to help me, he would, but he knows that opening the lines of communication again only hurt me and as soon as we fall into “normal sharing conversation” I begin to feel the sadness well up for how much I miss him. Losing a lover is hard, losing a real friend, even worse.

So….I have been speaking to a man that I cannot even recall meeting.

I fell asleep earlier tonight and just woke with the realization I blogged about EVERY sexual encounter in 2014/2105……

And I found him – The Boxer.

Long read ahead but will explain more tmrw;

From January 2015

Part 1 / The Boxer

Some days a girl is just lucky.

I have been back on Tinder and another app, called Bumble.  On Bumble the men are significantly better looking and generally more educated.  It’s like a Tinder upgrade.  The trick to Bumble is that the woman must write first and within 24 hours or the match disappears.  I get plenty of matches but the hit rate of replies is probably just a tad above Tinder’s hit ratio.

In any case,  I matched with a handsome lawyer/novice boxer from close to home.  This will work while I’m not working, but I don’t know how well we would manage time together once I’m back to work in a couple weeks.  No matter, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s call him The Boxer.

I liked his quick wit and sense of humor immediately.  Some people are just good with communication and the banter is easy, so we made a date for Tuesday at a bar local to my home.

As you already know, the whole physical attraction thing, including a mans height, tends to be an immediate attraction or deterrent for me.  His photos were very attractive and, in one, he had a shirt on so similar to the Cowboy, that I saw some resemblance.  I think it was the shirt and full head of hair as he is no where near as handsome (to me) as the Cowboy.  He is 5’11, which is ok, not great, not awful.  I stand taller with most of my heels, but he is broad shouldered so that helps somewhat.

We met at a bar that R and I often frequented and had some fabulous evenings of fun and laughter.  I was slightly disappointed when I saw him in person as he didn’t really resemble the photos and made me think that the photos were older and perhaps run through a filter.  No matter, his smile was easy and his bright blue and conversation was engaging.

We chatted for a few hours, mostly about family.  I can’t say what type of impression I walked away with – it was neither good nor bad – it was ok.  He has a very young child that seems to be a handful and, frankly, I wasn’t particularly interested in hearing about his antics.  That’s a first for me and obviously some impact from the Cowboys lack of children.  I was previously more attracted to a man with a child, but now I think I prefer a man with an older child and not such al little guy.  As Ann reminded me, I am getting ahead of myself again.

The date ended and he gave me a quick peck on the lips as he departed.  Awkward kiss at best, it wasn’t natural at all.  Though his lips were quite soft.  He apologized later for being nervous.  He said he hasn’t kissed anyone new in a very long time.  He is 3 months out of a 2.5 year relationship with a woman in her twenties – though he won’t tell me just how old she was.  He likes significantly younger woman, so I don’t know why I have impressed him…but I tend to think he realizes what he wants in a relationship is not going to happen with a younger woman – they just don’t have the life experience and often want a family.

He has been texting good morning and a bit each night and we are due to go out again this evening.  He hints at an undercurrent that I enjoy, but doesn’t cross the line or elaborate.  I am curious enough to find out.

Part 2/ The Boxer

Tears and Sex Just Don’t Jive For Me

I bet you can’t wait for the post in which we celebrate the passing of the Cowboy. At this point, I can’t wait for the end either.

I’m sure it’s ahead but it’s still seems very far away to me.

Both of my therapists have independently advised me to accept the grief. To find time for the tears and let them come unfettered.  I have been embracing that theory all week and have been crying a bit more.

But tonight it seems a flood is happening.

I had a date with the Boxer. He was attentive via text all day and indicated his excitement to see me. I had a rough day for other reasons but was looking forward to getting out.

The date was fine. Conversation was ok. He gave me some good (and free) lawyerly advice. But there’s no spark.

We left the restaurant and made our way to my home. I was alone for the evening.

The real tell was the first kiss. Nothing. Nada. He was a terrible kisser. I am always afraid of a bad kisser as a portent for what follows.  He doesn’t use his tongue and I’m all about those big open-mouth full of tongue kisses.  My kisses are hot and lusty, full and aggressive. He was tentative, meek and slow and no tongue.

Didn’t stop me from moving to the next stage. I had worn a dress and crotch less panties and his hands found their way in. Before I knew it, his mouth was on me. Now – that was better than the kiss on the lips and I knew I would be able to cum.  It was relatively quick and easy and very pleasurable. No fireworks but who complains about any orgasm?!

He is truly a boxer so his body is like a brick – totally solid. But he is overall slim and I wonder if he was a little skimpy when he wasn’t muscular. The muscles in his back and shoulders were lovely to hold onto though. He also has a luscious full head of hair that I got to keep my hands in and pull during my orgasm.  He said he loved it.

We moved from the couch to the bed and he undressed himself quickly.  I undressed myself and crawled beside him. He was keen to fuck so I agreed.  His size was average at best but he was rock solid with excitement. He did all the right things, said all the right things, but horror of all horrors happened to me (and this never ever happens) – I began to dry out. I quickly grabbed the lube before he realized what was going on and switched our positions.

I think this is when everything went way south for me. He asked me to climb on top. A little history lesson here – I used to hate being on top. R used to be so encouraging that I was willing to attempt it once or twice for his pleasure but I was still uncomfortable (with my body, what to do, the whole thing).  But…being on top kind of became a steady tool in the Cowboys Arsenal. To the point where he was insistent on figuring out how to make me cum while on top. Over time with the Cowboy it became one of best and most successful positions. It was sexy, lusty, fun and fruitful for both of us. The Cowboy tried so hard to please me in every position, but this was one he was most proud of “unlocking”.

I figured I was now comfortable and capable in this position and I climbed on top of the Boxer and slid him in effortlessly.  And he laid there. He’s not big enough to hit my cervix like the Cowboy so that stimulation was lost, but he didn’t help his own case.  I tried to find the right purchase and get the motion and I got close, I could have worked pretty hard and gotten to a climax but I was almost distressed at this point being reminded of the Cowboy…so I did the worst disservice to myself and faked enough pleasure sounds to make him think it was all that.

I asked him to take me from behind, knowing this was one position even a less lengthy cock could feel pretty good…but he chose to lay me flat on my stomach where I am basically unable to move.  I didn’t even feel much thrust.  Luckily it was over quickly enough.

He quickly jumped up to go to the bathroom and I was so relieved because I burst I to full on tears – my face was down in the pillow and he couldn’t see anyway but still. I know this happened with Mr Dull but this was a much more significant tearful reaction.

I’m glad he left quickly after. There was 5 minutes of a cuddle and he was calling for his uber. He has a big trial tomorrow and I knew he was quite anxious as the prep work.  The moment he was out the door the tears flowed and didn’t let up for 3 hours.

I didn’t realize the position would be such a significant trigger on top of my already fragile emotional state.

This was another throwaway sex session just to keep moving on from the Cowboy. While I’m not sure I hear from the Boxer again (there was no Good Morning text this morning, interestingly enough, despite promises to see me before he travels), I don’t think it’s worth his energy or mine for something. I’m not finding any sort of fulfillment in.  It’s nice to have a little attention during the day and a dinner date is fun but I’m not attracted to him enough on any level to continue.

I wasn’t willing to find out.

Bennett and I have stopped all contact for going on 6 weeks or so- more of that in some other post – so I have taken a more serious approach to making sure I get myself out there.

My dating stories are sure not to be as exciting as they were in 2014, I am pretty sure I have outgrown most of the post-divorce antics I participated in. It takes so much more to turn me on now. My sex life went from being the Sahara Desert to a Tropical Oasis in less than a years time. I learned what I liked and what I didn’t and more importantly, I learned what I really wanted.

Part of that learning was understanding my own desires and how they are triggered. While I was, for a short time, triggered by any possibility to be turned on and have sex, I now realize that doesn’t really do it for me (mostly). I am much more interested by the romance and attraction that leads to spectacular sex. I am not capable (most times) of booty calls and not interested in one-nighters. I learned that there is no value in the sex-for-sex-sake for me. I don’t particularly like how I feel mid-way through or the morning after.

I don’t think it eliminates the potential for a date leading to sex. I know I am just that much more aware of the value.

I want him (whoever that is) to desire me. I want to feel his heat and desire, both verbally and physically. And, usually, I want to really know there is more behind the physical- that he really like me for me. The electric chemistry needs to be there.

So, I have made much better dating choices. It sure is slow going, but the dates are better in general. I still make mistakes. I keep trying to step out of my comfort zone – whichever one of them it may be – just to see if there really is opportunity to “try different types.” It hasn’t worked for me yet.

My comfort zone list is long. Blue collar doesn’t work. Short doesn’t work. Lack of worldly travel doesn’t work. Not married, no kids doesn’t work. Young children doesn’t work. Jobs with too much down time usually don’t work. Excessively fit men don’t like me (I’m too big) and men of color/race other than Caucasian do (but they are not my type). Unfortunately for me, somewhere between Dan-Bobby-Bennett I really narrowed down my type so tightly that I haven’t found a good reason to step out of those boundaries. Their type was perfect – except for that one thing – they were married. I consciously stay away from married and currently separated men because my souls is shards of glass from the torture I self-inflicted over the past 4 years.

But, I do persevere with men, regardless of my comfort zone, that can start with a connection in conversation. Bennett wasn’t near “my type” and I still fell for him as hard as humanly possible. Not sure I will ever actually get over him.

I met Doug a few weeks back on Plenty of Fish. We hit it off quickly in our chat. We had a lot of similar interests and were not too far off in our history: married a long time, children old enough to manage themselves, and ambitious. He sounded like he is a good place in his life. He didn’t sound bitter about his divorce. He loved his boys. Everything was check, check, check. He didn’t live close enough to me to be convenient, but we could meet in the city. Many men are fussed about the distance, but he was willing to manage it for the right connection. We spoke a few times and decided to meet a few days later.

The connection over the few days grew and I was really looking forward to meeting him. I arrived at the bar first after a terrible day at work. I quickly downed a Prosecco and settled in. He was running behind.

When he appeared, I was slightly taken aback at his size. He was much bigger than his photos portrayed and he wasn’t the 5’11” he professed to be. He was ok looking, and had a face and body I felt I could get used to, so that wasn’t what put me off.

It was the first glimpse at his hands.

His hands were the absolute smallest hands I have EVER seen on a man. Smaller than a woman’s hands and I would honestly call them petite. Tiny hands. I was so distracted by his hands I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.

At one point, I also looked down at his feet to realize he was wearing really bad running sneakers with suit pants (his jacket and tie on first look appeared quite neat and nice). I could barely see his feet through the width of the cuff.

That did it, I was done. Nothing else mattered.

There was plenty during the conversation that I realized we were not a match in any case, but I wonder how much of that was made clear by his small hands? Not alarm bells or red flags, just points of disparity – and would I have caught as many of them if he didn’t have such tiny hands?

I literally drifted at one point – looking right at him – trying to determine if I was willing to put the theory to the test?

Did I have the balls to see if the old wives tale is true?

Nope.

I am sticking to my own theory – a mans hands and feet are a sure sign of his package. I have heard of big hands and small cock, but never experienced it myself. My experience has held true that the clock size follows the size of the hands.

Whats your experience?

I’m so overworked and overwhelmed.

Work just sucks. My boss is under so much pressure that he bullies his employees. I admit I cracked now under the strain. I can’t even have a meeting with him alone, there is always a consultant in the room. To protect me, no less. And while they do, once he starts on his rampage, he doesn’t stop. He is always angry with me. Somehow I trigger him. The consultants see it and stepped in and it improved for a while but he snapped again this week. He is a high level executive, I don’t know how these things get handled at that level – I just assume I pay the price at some point and it’s freaking me out now.

And that triggers my anxiety into high gear.

Layer that with a phone call from Bennett this week in a panic over his child and the insinuation that our relationship is too much of a burden for him to bear. I got so mad at him for calling me at work in the middle of the day and dumping that on me that we didn’t talk for 3 days. I don’t have the tolerance for him to be confused anymore. I care, it hurts, but I also know he will feel remorse and feel awful for taking it out on me.

I feel like everyone’s punching bag. I’m so tired.

My strike at home has been relatively successful. My kids started doing their own laundry and I notice the garbage has been taken out randomly and the mail brought in. I still haven’t done much food shopping but prepared a few things and they sat and ate with me. When I ask for help, I say “I need help now” and they mostly listen. I think I have to keep the laundry as a full responsibility at their ages now.

My eldest twin is thrilled, he has gotten into 3 of his 4 top choice colleges. One that we didn’t expect but I encouraged him to go for it and he did! I’m super proud, but I worry that this child of mine is the least practical and dedicated of all. He will live college, but will he buckle down? I just don’t know.

The x has finally capitulated and agreed to almost all the college terms. He made the mistake of not replying to the court order and caused himself more damage by making the judge mad at him. No he is forcing us into court and – while I am not happy about paying for the lawyer – I think the idiot is finally scared enough to realize he can’t win. He’s been threatening me for weeks now because he wants to file a change in circumstance: my job changed while his is stagnant. So he wants to sue for alimony. Unfortunately for him, since alimony was never awarded in the first place, he can’t ever go after it. So then he threatened child support, but I have proof that the 70/30 arrangement we agreed upon has now turned into 85/15 – the kids are barely with him. But he likes to beat his chest and say he walked away with nothing. His nothing included less home with his children and no child support as well as a lump sum buy out of the home. As well as all savings split equally. I wouldn’t call it nothing but he does.

I am just overwhelmed. I have no time for myself. I am always nervous. I have never questioned my abilities to deal with stress or pressure to get done what I need to do but I am falling apart at the seams. I can’t find my place of peace.

I was due to leave for another country tonight but my visa didn’t come through. I was so happy. So happy I jinxed myself and it came through today so I still have to travel across the world and back in a week. I’m not thrilled but it is what it is. I don’t mind the travel but this is so compressed and to a difficult country.

I come back for 5 days and head to the next country for 10 days.

I don’t have any time to think about dating. I don’t have any time to help my father which I really need to get some of his life in order at 82 years old. And my son needs to visit schools again and wants me to take him and not his Dad.

My youngest son has developed a rapid heart rate and terrible headaches and when I took him to the doctor this week I found out his Dad had taken him in October and was told the same thing. Of course I was in China. And the child or the dad never told me there was an issue and blood work and subsequent tests required.

I’m failing. Everyone and everything. I’m am entirely unraveled and can’t find the one place to focus, succeed and move forward. I’ve lost my footing and it’s scary. And without Bennett in the right frame of mind, I don’t have my normal voice of reason.

My bag is packed for this trip and I’m mentally ready to go.

I just hope it gives me time to clear my brain.

I don’t have much to share. A couple weeks back I had a dating spree and it all turned up for naught. I didn’t get discouraged, just bored. It’s so much work to date!

Not just in vetting and setting up the dates, but all the ridiculousness that comes with the stop-and-start types of communication.

I find it easier to move on from those I quickly consider a waste of my precious time. I’ve gotten much better at that. Even the ones I genuinely like at the start and show promise I have found little patience for their shenanigans.

Dave, the breadcrumber, is gone. Blocked and deleted so I have no ability to contact him again. I made the mistake of reaching out on Bumble when we matched a second time. Foolish me. He wasn’t interested enough to make something happen the first time around, I shouldn’t have opened the door a second time

Greg, the supposed Dom, who was also given a second chance was finally and heartily stricken from the list this weekend. Rather than bore you with dull details, suffice to say, I had one too many reasons to believe he was inflexible and ultimately too socially awkward for me. He was sweet but clearly single for too long. He didn’t have the basic tenets of dating down and I found that frustrating.   I learned that, on some level, I need anyone interested in me to have “some” level of interest in my family. He was very good at making my life sound as the only responsibility I had was to myself. I crossed him off the list on Sunday at yet another failed attempt at meeting and his inability to communicate in a timely or responsible manner.

He came back Tuesday night with a bogus follow up when I realized I had deleted him but not blocked. Course corrected. Blocked. And I didn’t reply to him.

That leaves Bennett.

We will see each other a bit this week after respective Christmas parties. We will exchange a gift. We discussed my gift in case you were wondering. Poor guy. I’ve traumatized him. with gift giving.  We have a chunk of time together between Wednesday and Friday and then the long Christmas break where I don’t expect to see him until after the New Year.

Strangely enough, I am in a better place than I thought I could be. I know I tell myself I will feel a certain way and that often doesn’t come to pass. But I’m ok at the moment. Maybe because I’m dying at work. Maybe because my life is jammed to overflowing. Bennett is a constant and a happy one at that. Maybe it’s enough for now.

Unlike previous years, I made a conscious decision to spend New Year’s Eve at the local family party with my youngest son. I hated going on previous years because I felt like it meant I had nothing better (or no one better) to spend the night with. This year friends asked me out and I declined because I realize I have come to love this group of parents because they embraced me as a single mom with all their hearts. They have all supported me in one way or another. It’s taken me some time but I realize I enjoy being around this “family” every New Year’s Eve for the last 5 years.

I also declined a traditional family party, which I love attending, but on the night before Christmas Eve, It always puts me at a deficit in physical energy or behind the 8-ball with some prep or another. I can see my cousins another time. I need that night at home.

I am not fussed about Bennett’s time with his family. Maybe because I know what to expect and maybe because I have come to accept my circumstances. I don’t know. But I’m ok.

And I realize now is not the time to try to meet people. I’m too busy, even if It weren’t for Bennett, I’m too busy. If work has its way I’m in India for two weeks in January, Paris and Milan in February and China and Korea in March. Does it even make sense to try and date?

I try to date for two reasons: one is that I know I am ready and want relationship.  The extra time I do have, I would love to have a partner.  I would love that partner to be able to travel with me as well – I have amazing opportunities for travel and want to share.  The second is I do long for the connection that I had with Bennett. The every day dependency in a way. Looking. forward to sharing the small stuff. Having someone who is mine and has my back.

I will switch the apps back on in January. But for now, I am ok where I am. My goal is to focus on work, getting my one son off to college and getting my body back to shape. My plate is full.

While the situation isn’t ideal, and I hate to admit I’ve been dating Bennett for 18 months with no real end in sight, the balance is ok for me. Something broke deep inside in that last riff we had, something that won’t be repaired while he is married. Maybe never repaired. But I can’t change that, only he can. I can only keep my head on as straight as possible, keep Trixie away from any hot ideas and keep myself moving forward.

So here’s my crazy train of thoughts since I have been with Bennett again.

Regardless of what was the truth or lies before, what I believed to be true is my reality.  Everyone knows the saying “perception is reality.”  Doesn’t matter who thinks he was lying to me before, no one but Bennett knows the truth.  I believed what he was telling me, I had seen enough to believe the reality he himself was believing.

But when we spoke about his marriage, and when I realized that his talk to his wife in May healed something between them that had been broken a long time, my perception started to change.

Before he was ignoring his wife and his marriage.

Now he is in protect mode: protect his marriage.  Before it was protect the relationship with Madeline.

He shared with me how easy their relationship is.  How he enjoys making her feel safe.  How he feels responsible for her and accountable for the life they created together.  How they talk about the children and reminisce.  And how, beyond that, he finds it hard to talk to her about anything else.  She presents no challenge for him, she misses their children as much, if not more, than he does.  She has leaned into him in their absence as he has to her.  He admitted that after the fracture in May, when he decided he couldn’t let go, that he scared them both into better communication.

I know I ask too many questions, things I shouldn’t ask.  I know once you hear something you can’t unhear it.  I asked him what forms of affection they shared and he had always maintained there were none.  But somewhere over the summer he mentioned he kissed her on the forehead every night before bed.  This time around he admitted he actively tries to maintain the balance in their relationship.  The way he treats her makes her feel comfortable and not question his actions.  This only leads me to believe there are probably other small forms of affection, he doesn’t consider them “romantic” but they are things that make their marriage appear healthy.

I suppose when I believed he was a man who was going through a genuine transition in his life, had a marriage that was ending, these things felt more palatable to me.  I was able to overlook his behavior as a liar and a cheat in their relationship.  But now it all seems so contrived.  He knows what he’s doing is so wrong and so disrespectful, but he is actively ensuring he convinces her there is no reason to worry.

He said if she were to approach him for sex, which he doesn’t think she ever will because he is under the belief she just doesn’t want it or need it, nor does she care about further intimacy between them as she is happy with what he gives her…he said it would be over between us because that’s when she would “start to look under the covers and we would be caught.”  Since she doesn’t want sex, it’s not an issue between them.  But, will she one day?  He doesn’t really think so, he gives her the little attention she requires as a wife, and all the trappings of a happy family life, and this is seemingly enough for her.

When there felt like there was a time we were working towards something real together, I was able to look beyond so many things.  Now, they all feel wrong and out of proportion to me.    Now, I feel less like giving all of myself to him because I know he will no longer give himself to me.

Nothing changes as I write these posts, they simply remain my rumination in my thick skull.

I don’t feel less love for him, or less desire.  I feel loss.  I can have what he can give me, I don’t lose everything that once was, but it feels like all the good between us will disappear quite fast under my different perception of reality.

I don’t mind feeling let down about Bennett.  Let down or disappointed is easier to swallow than heartbroken.  Deep down, I do feel the same, the man I met was the man of my dreams.  But if that’s not the man available to me today, best I mourn the loss of him and move on.  Even if that means an different relationship with Bennett, it’s just my own way of reconciling the man who loved me with abandon  is lost to me.

I saw Bennett after 2 months. Certainly the longest break.

I was excited to see him up until the day before our commitment. Then the disillusionment set in. I suppose I had finally began to think of our relationship as no more than an affair rather than a real relationship with a future. At least that’s my bedside analysis.

We had agreed to be honest with one another about what we could or couldn’t provide one another within the confines of an affair. Sounds silly since I’m on the back foot here. I wanted him. He wanted his cake and to eat it too.

I’m not trying to provide excuses about him or me. I have spent enough time crying and settling. I suppose I was excited he would consider seeing me again after such a hard break. But my brain fog cleared. Of course he would want to see me.

I struggled to write this post. Mostly because I feel a bit ashamed with myself for loving him the way I do and being so convinced he would ever leave his marriage. Foolish because his talking to his wife back in May healed a breach they had been struggling with, rather than drive them apart. I don’t know how I am so able to fool myself about these things deep in the belief he loves me.

He loves me, but not enough to leave his complacent life and wife. They have an easy marriage and a good life. And he is willing to live with that. The man I met was at a crossroads in his life and had courage to change.

That man is gone. He’s fallen back into routine and complacency.

I think the disillusionment wasn’t that he was “just a man” it was that he wasn’t going to be MY complacent man and he didn’t have the courage to step out of his box. And if he wasn’t able to do that the way he did with me the first year, was an affair worth it for me?

I was never hidden or made to feel I couldn’t be out in the open. He is more worried about those things now. Talking about everyday stressors before was a way we connected, now I don’t feel the pull to help him through these small mundane things: he has a wife for that. I am less interested in his day to day activity. He has become more scared and cautious since his “look into the abyss” as he calls it. He was frightened to death of changing his life and hurting his wife and family. These realities didn’t play before. They add an unseen weight to what was a light, happy, easy and love filled connection at the start.

If this is an affair, what’s in it for me?

Don’t get all this wrong, seeing him was like an old spark reignited. The longing was deep in my belly. His kiss was perfect. Sleeping in his arms made me peaceful. I laughed often. The night was wonderful and the sex perfect.

But leaving the next morning, even though we had a leisurely shower and then walk to work left me feeling something like unfulfilled. I can’t actually describe how I felt. Let down maybe.

While I knew I was the other woman I didn’t feel like an other woman with him. I didn’t feel it when he was physically with me, but felt it rather keenly after we separated.

I don’t like this feeling.

I also don’t like being without him.

So I have a lot of thinking to do.

Less than 2 months after I started this blog I am up to 200 readers and I want to take the time to say Thank You.

 

Thank you to all of you who comment and participate.  Thank you for the ones who “like” my writing.  Thank you to the silent readers.

 

I enjoy writing and find this the single most cathartic thing I have ever continuously pursued.  I’ve been blogging for just over 2 years and I’m still fascinated with myself that I can find so much to say most days!

 

For better or worse, thank you for traveling this road with me.

 

Much love,

 

Madeline

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