Monday 19 April 2010

Not good.

So, as of last Wednesday, I am back on the adulterous market. James and I have ended it.

I'm in a lot of pain right now; despite the fact that I knew it was coming, it wasn't a mutual decision. The tough thing is not being able to tell my best friend, Hubby, about it. Last night he took me out for Thai and all I wanted to do was cry into my sticky rice.

James is struggling with his feelings about me. The last few weeks have been incredibly intense. I can't define in what way; just that our emotional connection has risen to a new level. I'm sure in any other situation, that kind of butterfly-stirring, firework-lighting effect would be welcomed, but when you're cheating on your husband or wife, it's the last thing you want to feel.

There were a few hours, lying in bed with James, drunk on romance, where I thought about running away. I rehearsed it in my head; telling Hubby what I'd done, letting him hate me, packing a bag and escaping with my lover on some generic highway into a postcard sunset. Alas, reality always find a way of seeping in to your fantasies sooner or later.

On Sunday we met for lunch, and James named what we have been avoiding for the past year; we were in hopelessly love. He cried, I cried. I was all very dramatic. Although we parted agreeing that we both needed 'space', this is most definitely the end. Seeing each other again after having christened the elephant in the room would be far too dangerous.

It's at times like these where I have to remind myself why I embarked on an affair in the first place. I love my husband; he is my one and only, the Rhett to my Scarlett, the cream in my cake. James was only ever meant to fill a gap. Like some kind of good-looking, emotionally intelligent Polyfiller.

Forgive my DIY analogies. James wasn't just some device. He was a living, breathing human being, and to refer to him as any less than that would be cruel. Which, unfortunately, is all I'm capable of being at the moment. It hurts too much to think about what he really meant to me. For the next few months, he will be the adhesive that closed up the cracks in my marriage, nothing more. At least until I get my thoughts together.



I think it hasn't quite hit me let. It's all still at arm's length. Give me a few days, I'll be your regular suicidal dumpee.

Thursday 1 April 2010

April fool

Dear Ron (in Florida),

Thank you for your comment on my previous post, entitled "Apologies". I always appreciate comments from my regular readers, and it seems you have a good understanding of the sort of human being I am.

In particular, you understand that I am just the sort of women who welcomes, nay, encourages, comment from strangers relating to my genitals.

Your phrasing is divine; your point so well executed. A statement this powerful need not be constrained by the laws of grammar. I applaud your boldness, and, if I wasn't currently married, maintaining an extra-marital relationship, and planning my advances on our new office intern, I would surely fly out to the States and let you "dive into my nether-regions", as you so beautifully put it.

Alas, as my status does not allow it, you may be waiting for some time.

Kind regards,

Michelle (sadly, rather far away from Florida)