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mynewlifeastheotherwoman · 6 years ago

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The start

I guess I should start this like all good books, at the beginning?

Let’s clear up a few things before we begin. Until now, at the ripe old age of 36, I have never cheated on anyone, and have never been the other woman. I’ve had many offers on both sides of that particular fence, but have always taken the moral high ground and walked away.

The first time I saw him was almost a year ago to the day, that is no where near as romantic or stalker like as it sounds, it simply happens to be just over a year since I started working there. We didn’t meet, we didn’t speak, in fact, I had nothing to do with him for around 6 months, and he certainly wasn’t aware of me back then.

I first became aware of him when I moved departments. I’d not been there very long, it was a busy day and I was doing my best to be as much use as possible while being completely clueless. We were getting call after call from customers chasing various things, and most of these were having to be passed to the others, so when one just wanted a rough time of arrival, I was handed his number and told to call for an update.

Now the reason that sticks in my mind is for very mundane reasons, I’d met several of the others throughout my first few days, and he was the first one who didn’t just dismiss me and ask to speak to one of the others. From then on, we’d say good morning if we ran into each other, but nothing more, nothing less.

I moved departments again some months ago, and found myself spending more time with him, it was strange as I was previously in the department he works with and we had little to do with one another, now it should have been a fleeting morning acknowledgement, it was more and more.

I can’t deny that it didn’t take long for me to find myself thinking about him, it started in such a sordid way, the thoughts were purely sexual, and more than once when I’d see him in the morning, I could feel myself blush as I remembered the thoughts of the night before. More than that, I remember wondering if he’d noticed.

Many months before, I had told a close friend that I thought we should give it a go, he’d strung me on for months, and while sat outside having a morning smoke, I remember my new found friend telling me that I needed a hug, and it felt great. I wondered at that time if I’d been the only one having these thoughts, but I dismissed it as wishful thinking and childish.

Things didn’t work out with the friend from months ago, he turned out to be a great friend, but the thought of anything else being between us was laughable, we just couldn’t have been further apart on that front if we’d tried.

For weeks Dan and I became closer, we seemed to be smoking more as an excuse to talk, he’d spend longer and longer there for no apparent reason, he’d come in on his days off just to check he didn’t have any work on. While I was finding more and more excuses to hang around for when he showed up.

I received a friends request on Facebook from him, and tried not to over think it, and for days I tried to find a reason to message him. I eventually found perhaps the most pathetic excuse going, but it was all I had, so I ran with it, and it didn’t take long before conversation seemed to be edging in dangerous directions.

WIth the help of a few drinks, I worked in my first hint that I was interested in him, I needed the few drinks to protect myself, I didn’t want to be made fun of, I needed to be able to blame something and that was the best I had. You see, I don’t do well with rejection, I’ve had more than my fair share and not always in the nicest of ways.

I chickened out when he asked me to expand on my comment, and just left it hanging, this back and forth continued for a while until eventually one night, we both verged into hypothetical scenarios, which those hypotheticals within the space of one night, became probable future plans.

I knew he was married, I knew all of this was wrong, and I’ve stopped this before, more than once, but for reasons I just can’t explain, and believe me I’ve tried, I just couldn’t stop myself this time, I wanted him, needed him, and I hated myself for even contemplating it, but still couldn’t bring myself to walk away.

We’ve gone so far in such a short space of time, I’ve not told him so, but there are feelings involved now, this isn’t just sex, this is so much more, for me at least, and now I find myself in that situation that I guess all “other women” find themselves in... Am I just being used? used for sex? used as a way out of an unhappy marriage? Am I going to get hurt?

Eventually a time will come where I can’t stand the thought of him not being mine, of having to share him, there’ll come a time where I want to fall asleep in his arms, and wake up there the next morning, where I’ll want to be his one and only, want to hear him say he loves me, and to tell him I love him too.

Some of those times have come, that I can’t help, I’ve not felt like this before, I can’t control how I feel, what I feel, when I feel it. How do we get from where we are to where we know whether this is right or not? How can we possibly get to that point without hurting someone else?

There are no simple answers, and that’s what I want. I want someone to tell me it’s going to work, and we can just do what needs to be done and be together, or tell me it isn’t going to work and we can walk away before I get any more hurt than I already will be.

He’s messaging me while I write this, I’ve not told him what’s wrong, and with each message he seems to be telling me to walk away, but I’d hope that would be different if he knew what I was talking about!

He held me in his arms yesterday, and for the first time in far too many years to rememeber, I felt happy and safe. I shouldn’t want him to be mine, I should be protecting myself from the inevitable pain of him deciding that this just isn’t for him after all, that or years of waiting for him to leave his wife just for it to never happen... that’s how these things go right? That’s what everyone says at least.

Even knowing that the likelyhood of this ending in nothing but pain and heartache for me, he’s still worth it, because even the slimmest chance of feeling like he makes me feel for the rest of my time, is worth all the risk of potential suffering.

You won’t know my other blogs, but if you did, you’d know just how bad I have it, based solely on how long I’ve managed to write without once discussing sex, what I want to do to him and what I want him to do to me...

I’m so screwed!

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