Have you ever made the same mistake more than once? Have you ever made the same mistake for eight years? If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results…am I insane? I fell in love with a boy who turned into a man with no decision making capabilities. A man who took my heart even though he knew it was never to be his entirely. I let him, ya know? I had every opportunity to walk away…but I let him grab ahold. If you're into intentional heartbreak, this is a story for you. It started off innocently enough. Flirting on a mutual friends couch in the middle of winter when he was home from college. We met in a different mutual friend's basement a few days prior when I was sick as a dog. He remembers to this day that my voice was raspy and that I had on a blanket sized red flannel over leggings. I don't remember being anything special that night. But he remembers me. He remembers everything, part of his charm. He was single then, so when the flirting turned into drunkenly running up the stairs the next weekend to let him bend me over a bed I had no qualms. We spent the rest of winter break that way. Sneaking off to get our fill of the other. Emphasis on the sneaking because it was meant to be a secret…not that drunk me could handle a secret to save my life. But he insisted so I pretended to be trying, he wanted to "protect our reputations". AKA I wasn't the only one he was sleeping with. Which was fine. At the time. He wasn't my only drunk friend either.
And from there it took off. It was entirely a physical relationship, neither needing anything else from the other. But as time went on you got to chatting. You realize you vibe well, you laugh together and lord I should have known that was going to be a problem. He confides in me that he's back together with his girlfriend. The slut in me couldn't just let him go…so I left him with the sweet message of, "if you get bored, you have my number". WHY WOULD I DO THAT? I was a different lady then, I assure you I kick myself all the time for that text. Leaving our door wide open.
He was faithful for a while. And then he came back from school one weekend and we picked up where we left off. This went on for the duration of his college years. Sometimes while he was with his girlfriend, sometimes they'd be broken up again. We remained physical but another aspect entered our relationship. We got along. We connected. We texted more than just an inappropriate sext at the dinner table. He started calling me. Sometimes for phone sex, sometimes just to chat. Our relationship had changed and I hardly took notice.
I was pregnant with his child a year after meeting him. He was with his girlfriend maintaining that he really cared for her so he'd stay with her. I never told him about the baby. I aborted our child without telling him. It broke my heart. I wouldn't forgive myself for many years after that. Another story. Our contact fell off early that spring because I couldn't stand the thought of what I'd done and he was the only reminder I had. It didn't last. Summer rolled around and he was home again. Between partying hard and sneaking off to be with him, you could easily guess that I was working my hardest to forget. I never really learned how to cope with situations that force you to rip your own heart out. I am sorry little bun.
We went on like this for years. Secret meetings. Secret phone calls. Secret texts. He captured my attention in a way that no man ever had. It was terrifying and totally easy to handle by choosing to never consider what was happening. The day I found out he was engaged to that college girlfriend my heart broke. When had my layer of ice melted and allowed my heart to beat again? When? To this day I thank god I was drunk with most of my best friends when the news broke. I cried. Like, I ugly cried. My best friend snatched my phone to Facetime my childhood bestie so everyone could be there for me in my moment of despair. I got really drunk that night.
The plotting began shortly after. While I was heartbroken, I was also mad. What kind of man could propose to the woman he had been cheating on the entire duration of their relationship? Who was this stranger that I'd allowed so deeply into my life? I was appalled by his actions and for the first time thought of his fiancé. His poor, clueless fiancé. I flew to Arizona a week later to be with my best friend. Between herself, her college roomie, and myself we crafted a message on Facebook to be sent along with years of screenshots proving the message to be true. Your girl kept her receipts. Maybe this was always my intent. Maybe I'm just lazy and never delete anything…it's both.
The message showed Read but she never responded. He called me the next morning to explain the fight that ensued and how sorry he was for hurting me and her. When I came back to the Midwest we met one more time to say goodbye. I sat in his lap and cried over him into his shoulder. He held me and kissed me softly while whispering how sorry he was. I told him I never wanted to see him again. To never hear from him. I was done…I wish I'd meant it then.
I am not sure how much time went by before he reached out again. Maybe three months. I missed him. My heart ached in a way that was so new to me that I let him come back. At first just friendly chatter, happy to have the other back in any way at all. Talks got deeper. We both admitted that our souls were attached in some way. I told him about the pregnancy because I was tired of holding it in. My acceptance of it finally began to settle, realizing a large part of my guilt came from hiding it from him. He apologized to me. For putting me in that situation. For making me feel like I had to go through it alone. It was sweet. But it was too late for any of that.
He got married. We stopped having sex. For maybe two months. Then we had more sex. Our connection was undeniable. There was no keeping us apart. They moved to a different state. Was it because she needed to get him away? We still chatted on and off. Sometimes I would ignore his text or call. I really believed at times that I was over him. We were just friends. You aren't always available to your friends, so it was fine that I wouldn't always respond. He's persistent though. He'd reach out time and time again until I finally responded. Then our "friendship" would pick back up. Our conversations were mostly clean…unless he'd break me down and a little sexual blurb would find its way between our phones. In my defense, he was very hard to resist. Plus I wasn't the married one. I wasn't doing anything wrong to anyone…at least that what's I kept telling myself.
They had a baby. We saw each other a few times throughout that time- we didn't have sex anymore but he'd kiss me and I would let him. We'd go out to eat, take walks down empty paths, holding hands and hoping to keep thoughts of realty at bay. Our time in person was so cherished and missed. Even though it was all a lie. None of it was real. He still had a wife and baby. But I couldn't say no to him. I kept us at bay on a sexual level…which hey, progress!! He'd go back to his new state with his family but still find time for me. We started playing our question "game". Ask anything and tell the truth. There were always more questions. Overnight at work he'd call me, saying he missed my voice. The following day while his wife went off to work, he'd call me saying it'd already been too long .The poor girl. Poor me.
His wife is pregnant now with baby number two. After another secret rendezvous while he was back in town, I told him we had to stop. I had to quit him for real this time. He knows I love him but I can't keep watching him live two lives. I begged him to meet me his last night in town. He couldn't. I was losing my mind trying to find a way. We made a timeline for our 8 year affair. A timeline that finally had an end. One weekend meeting in a city in the state that keeps us apart. 24 hours together. Uninterrupted. His wife assumed he was at work. 24 on 48 off. The Saturday fell into place for our get away. I can assure you, he was nowhere near work. We had more sex that morning than I have ever had in that small of a time period. It had been at least two years since we had been together in that way. It was electric. It was like no time had passed. He reacquainted himself my every curve. I let my lips once again familiarize themselves with every inch of him. Fuck I missed him.
We spent that morning together over and over losing ourselves in the other. He knows how I tick in a way that no other man does. He knows my soul. From fucking to making love, we covered every missed opportunity in just the morning alone. Then we adventured into the small city in this Midwestern state. We ate lunch and laughed together. Caught a little buzz drinking flights of beer. When we hopped back into his loud, rumbling car the air was on fire. It was time to go back and shed some clothing again. That was our blissful day. Eating. Laughing. Chatting. Having all the sex we could manage. I'd missed him so much, his arms were the only place I needed to be.
Night rolled around. We got drunk off a bottle of Jack. I wasn't ready to let him inside me physically, I needed his mind for the time. He played that song. That song that brought drunken tears rushing to my eyes, exclaiming that now I had to ugly cry in front of him! He said it wasn't ugly…he was lying. He held me while I whispered that I hated him over and over. Finally it stopped. The tears wiped away. I told him I'd only say it out loud once. That was all he'd get. I love you. I told him and he didn't say it back. He said some words and what I caught was him saying, I don't. I bawled. Like a child not getting their way I rolled away from him to the safety of my side of the bed. Every time he tried to touch I told him to fuck off. I screeched about how dumb I was, questioned why the fuck he was even there. My heart was shattered into all the pieces. He finally told me to shut up. He has always known how to center me. Shut up and listen to what I am saying.
"I think about telling you I love all the time, but I don't". Drunk me isn't the best listener, admittedly. I looked at him, red faced with tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. "It's not fair to you to say I love you when I love someone else too. How can it be true love?" Is that really what he's worried about? Is it sweet? He's selfish. I let him have the best of both worlds. He gets his all-American family with her. And the edgy, passionate relationship with me. He is so fucking selfish. But I LET HIM. Did I create this monster by enabling him?
We parted ways with the promise of one text each so we know the other got back to their respective state safely. It was early when he left to play into the timeline of coming home from work to his family. I didn't want to be there alone so I left shortly after. Still smelling of him and sweat from the night before. The ultimate walk of shame some might say. Drive of shame. Whatever. He called me on my drive home. It took him two hours to drive back home, we were on the phone for an hour and 38 minutes. I cried when we hung up. I missed him already.
Down the street from my house I pulled over to craft my final text. I wished him happiness. I told him falling in love with him had been the best and worst experience. I told him I'd always miss him. He didn't respond ALL DAY. Can you imagine? I was distraught. Maybe he'd decided to just let it end at that. I blocked him on Instagram. I blocked him on Facebook. Finally at 9pm his goodbye came. He thanked me for being in his life. He told me would miss me for a very long time. He said I truly am a special soul who captured his heart and mind. I cried again. Has he ever cried over me?
That was six fucking days ago. It feels like an eternity. Tomorrow it will have been seven days since our secret getaway to be able to act like lovers openly. That weekend was everything I needed in a goodbye. I just didn't anticipate it burning this feeling of emptiness into me. He stole a piece of my heart when he left. I made a lot of mistakes with him. For him. Will it ever really end?

It was a moment of weakness. I hope he doesn't respond. I texted him tonight.