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.
Even more difficult can be living with the bitter truth that you are sharing him with his wife.
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.
The divot in his ring finger catches the light, reminding me of the torture I so often hide when we’re together. Like most everything else in my life, our relationship became punctuated by song lyrics I felt described our situation. I knew what I had to do, as much as I tried to ignore it. The chill had left the air and incoming Spring filled me with the power and motivation to do the hardest thing I knew I needed to do. We spoke sparingly over the next few days and it eventually faded to no communication.
" Dating a married man could probably stigmatise you with many condemnable titles and may not be an easy experience to endure, for being the 'other woman' entails a lot of sacrifices.
If you have convinced yourself that his family would never come to know about it, think again.