Falling deeper and deeper

The more time I spent with him, talking, sharing, exploring, the more time I wanted.  I longed for the days, evenings, overnights we were able to be together, when he could get away from home and spend stolen moments with me.

When we were together, I was happier than I’d been in a very long time.  When we weren’t, I lived for our next opportunity.  I wanted to be important to him and I wanted him to want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him.

It was easy for me to forget we weren’t a couple when we were able to spend time with each other, but when we had extended time apart I remembered  I was an affair and he was married.  When I’d bring this up to him, share my thoughts, he’d get upset.  He didn’t think of me as an affair.  He always said I had his heart, his soul, his love and his love making.

When I asked him why he’d remain in an unhappy, unfulfilling marriage he would explain it away as a convenience.  He’d refer to her as a cook and a maid, not unlike what he’d deal with at a hotel on the road.  She was there to serve a purpose, not for romance or love.

He wanted me to think of him and our relationship as one in which he worked away from home most of the time and would come home when he was able to spend the best of his time with me before leaving again.  I was his love, his romance, his happy place.

He couldn’t understand how I wanted all of that, but more.  I wanted his time, his presence, his warmth in my bed every night.  I wanted to cook for him, prepare his favorite meals, make desserts he loved, take care of his home, show him how much he meant to me.

He didn’t like talking about his wife and his marriage with me.  He didn’t like explaining what they had or didn’t have.  If I asked, he’d get upset.  If he did bring up something that happened between them, I was to listen and not interject.  It was a very difficult path to navigate.  Like a mind field I had to run thru without getting blown up.

He had the best of both worlds.  He had his home, his financial stability, his cook and his maid.  He had me to talk to, share with, love, and make love.

I, on the other hand, was alone and lonely when we weren’t together.  He didn’t want me to see other people, yet didn’t understand how I was jealous of his wife’s having all of his time even if it was strained and unpleasant.

I’d fallen in love with him, in spite of trying to remain disconnected and protect my heart. I knew I risked getting hurt, but I couldn’t help myself.  I was drawn to him and no matter how hard I tried to keep focused on what we had and not what I wanted, I fell harder and harder, deeper and deeper.

 

 

 

 

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