I know, logically, that this is temporary, and yet . . . it just keeps getting better.
After last night when I was ailing and cranky and lonely and I misunderstood the Writer so he called me . . . we had another “lunch date.”
He said to me while we were curled up together naked talking about family history and music and film and whatever, isn’t this a better lunch than eating? And then immediately corrected himself: “No! I should never say that to you. You should always eat.”
And it’s moments like that which make me adore the Writer even more.
He knows me. He pays attention to everything I tell him. He is wired in to my frequency. He cares.
Every part of our afternoon was perfect.
He showed up a little ahead of schedule. Later than we had originally planned, but earlier than I expected. Still, I got everything situated and ready.
We have a routine: I watch for him and I open the door before he gets to the bell. He was wearing a total rock outfit: classic punk t-shirt, dark jeans, boots, sunglasses. He’s never looked quite this punk before. Usually, he is much more hipster.
We start kissing as soon as the door closes. I had already told him what I wanted to do, as we always discuss it in detail beforehand. Always.
This was a deliberate switch to our routine. We were undressed immediately, kissing passionately and then condom on and sex on.
The sex was exactly what I wanted. It was perfect. And, he loved it, too. We connected and it was passionate and hot and we kissed the entire time.
As we essentially finished simultaneously, we then curled up together and kissed and talked and fooled around for another hour. There is nothing better than curling up with someone you adore and talking about everything.
And laughing. So much laughing.
It’s not that this is separate from our life. This is not an affair. It is our life together. We have to deal with each other’s lives.
We were talking and he said something about tonight. He is likely going to a punk show in my neighborhood and I am hosting a bday party at the hot new restaurant and then a hipster bar. He said, “well, I already had amazing sex, so…” and I teased him with “and you had sex with me.”
“Uh, I meant you.”
Yeah, honey, I know.
So, we decide that maybe we are going to go to a show tonight and/or maybe he is coming with me to the bday party.
Which means my married beau, with a ring on his finger, may be my date to a party with all of my friends.
And, I think I mentioned that he’s kinda famous in our world. He’s a writer. Even if he weren’t wearing a ring, everyone knows he’s married. It’s part of his thing.
So, we have this connection between us that is strong . . . strong enough that we are going to be public about it. Which is likely going to be awkward for a lot of people, and likely will lead to a few “what the fuck are you doing” conversations.
Most of my friends are open-minded about such things. And my closest friends know I am dating someone who is married. They just don’t know it’s The Writer.
This is right for right now.
It’s a perfect place for me to be. He is so present in my daily life that sprawling across the foot of the bed in his arms laughing and talking in the late afternoon on a friday feels like the best thing we could be doing.
I sent him an email on Wednesday, the day after the one year anniversary of that accident that nearly killed me, thanking him for being in my life, for being so positive and awesome.
And now here we are on Friday, happy together.
The first half of FM’s birthday party was great. But the idea of the Writer joining me The idea of him joining me post-dinner at the bar freaks me out a little.
I can tell from his lack of activity that he has fallen asleep early. I bounce home around midnight. I wasn’t feeling great and I’d been out for like 5 hours.
The next afternoon, he texts me.
Him: hey u 3:32 PM
Him: i ended up falling asleep hella early 3:33 PM
Me: Hey 3:33 PMHim: how was yr night? 3:33 PMMe: It was cool. I was home in bed my midnight. 3:33 PMMe: My friend who’s birthday we were celebrating had a great time 3:34 PMHim: good!! 3:34 PMMe: I published a photo to Facebook for your benefit last night 3:35 PMMe: Boobtacular 3:35 PMHim: yessss 3:37 PMMe: 😉 3:38 PM
Me: Just had a nap dream so real I was surprised you weren’t here talking to me or holding my hand 5:01 PM
Him: lordy 5:10 PM
Me: It was funny and pleasantly disorienting. 5:11 PM
Me: I was sleeping on my hand… 5:12 PM
Him: sounds excellent 7:23 PMMe: Kinda was. 7:28 PM
Him: whatcha doing? 10:01 PMMe: Reading in bed. What are you doing? 10:02 PMHim: same. also football 10:03 PMMe: I like you in bed. 10:04 PMHim: i like you there as well 10:04 PMMe: Also in hallways, movie theaters and cars 10:06 PMHim: excellent 10:07 PMMe: Well we are VERY good in bed 10:07 PMHim: it is true 10:07 PMMe: 🙂 10:10 PMMe: Yesterday was incredibly hot 10:12 PMHim: i agree:) 10:28 PMMe: I need you […] next time. 10:31 PMHim: yes. yes u do 10:32 PMMe: Felt so amazing 10:38 PM
Me: I have a request. It’s a little weird. 2:39 PMHim: Hit me 2:56 PMMe: I want a picture of you … smiling. 3:06 PMHim: Sent 3:09 PMMe: You are the best. 3:09 PMMe: And I am beaming. 3:10 PMHim: Good 🙂 3:17 PMMe: Thank you thank you. 3:21 PMMe: Love getting to see your handsome face, even if its just a picture. 3:23 PMHim: I am glad you like it. 3:28 PMHim: I am never happy with how i look in pictures in which i smile 🙂 3:28 PMMe: I know you don’t. But that’s the you I see when we are together: smiling etc 3:30 PMMe: Thank you. 🙂 3:30 PMMe: Flipping through photos on my Dropbox. So many nudity I took for you. SO MANY.. 3:46 PMMe: When/if you have a moment alone, ill shoot you one. 3:47 PMHim: Pls do 4:00 PMMe: Sent. And I have a complete shot … If you need 4:23 PMMe: Sent you something entirely NSFW 7:32 PMHim: Wamt 8:00 PMHim: Want 8:00 PMMe: Xoxo 8:01 PM
Me: Hi. Thanks again for sending that photo. 9:50 PMHim: My pleasure 10:14 PMMe: MY pleasure, handsome. 11:29 PM
He messages me through facebook. I can tell he is busy. I know he is getting ready to head out of town this weekend for a work trip. It’s the first week we have not started by seeing each other.
Him: hi there 9:55 AM
Him: insane work day today
Him: but I wanted to say hi
Me: Thanks. Get back to it. We will talk later. : )
Him: everything cool?
Me: Of course. Awoke at 3 am and couldn’t fall back asleep. Everything cool with you?
Me: Excellent. I know you’re crazy busy and traveling etc but I’d like to see you this week if we can carve out some time.
Him: I hope I can
Him: I will do my best : )
Me: No pressure and no worries if you can’t. I totally understand.
I have a late lunch with RA at a friend’s restaurant.
We have a lot of ground to cover: RA’s job search, my living situation, my relationship with the Writer . . . and with everyone else.
She asked me pointedly, what are you doing to protect yourselves from falling for each other.
It’s an important question. I answer her truthfully: I am dating a lot of other people. Her response: “You are ALWAYS dating a lot of other people. This guy is clearly the most important one.”
We are both, RA and I, mystified by the amount of access and time I have with the Writer, who is married and has children. And yet, I am going out with him on Friday and Saturday nights, very publicly, in high profile places, where we are publicly affectionate.
I don’t know what his deal is with his wife. I am confident that we are following whatever rules they have established. Safe sex, obviously is a huge part. Also, not falling for each other . . . hugely important.
The Writer is a relationship guy, clearly. He is not a conquest guy. He likes to be in this deeply. I assume he has had many girlfriends. He’s been married more than 10 years and presumably he has managed through this before.
Interestingly though, he said to me early on “I’m figuring it out” when I had asked him if we would see each other socially. I’ve looked back through our old messages and we quickly established (like later that afternoon in conversation) that we would be socially engaged and also hooking up regularly. He was clear with me that he wanted to “see me socially,” which is a very different thing than just hooking up with someone or doing things secretly. I had asked the question early because I wanted to know.
There are no secrets here.
So, what are we doing to protect ourselves? Well, it’s really only a matter of me protecting myself. Presumably, he is fine. He has done this before. There may be other women right now.
There are certainly other flirtations. I can see them on social media. He knows I am going out a lot. He has not asked if I am sleeping with anyone else. He has said to me in person, on the phone, and via text, “sweetie, I’m not jealous.” But I still don’t volunteer the status of what I am doing when I am out. If he asks, I will tell him, but he rarely asks.
There have been nights I have forced myself to go on dates just to not sit home thinking about him. There have been nights I have been really excited for the dates (the architect, the 2013 ed editor) and aftermath.
And, next month, my long-distance fling is here. That weekend will be very very public, as I am escorting the LDF to things and there will be pictures and we do — weirdly — genuinely love each other.
And, let’s not forget that LP was texting me from New York this morning.
He will likely be upset about the 2013 ed Editor, because it’s someone he knows and respects. The 2013 ed Editor has no idea I know the Writer.
[Interesting side note: I mentioned the Editor to FM, who was impressed that I am dating him. And also amused that the LDF is still in the picture as it was FM who introduced us.]
So, I am contemplating all of this, how to keep myself from falling for someone I can never have fully, worrying about who to invite to super-public events I have upcoming for which I need a date who is not someone else’s husband, and lamenting the fact I will likely not see the Writer this week.
My phone rings. It’s a little before 6 pm and I am sitting in a library. I quickly gather my things and call him back, whispering until I am in the foyer. He asks: “are you okay?” “Yes, just leaving a building.” He tells me he has a story he has to tell me which is hilarious. He says, you will likely never meet these people, but you can’t tell anyone.
And then he tells me something hilarious and sad and one of those things you’d not believe if it weren’t actually happening to very good friends of his in a different city.
Related: everyone’s marriages have weird shit in them.
And we are laughing and talking as he tells this crazy tale. Right as I reach my front door about ten minutes in, he pauses, gets distracted for a second, and, says, sorry, I have to jump.
He texts me within a minute to apologize: “Sorry. In car.” “Nothing bad”
Which is weird, because, um, I didn’t think it was anything bad. I knew he was driving, and we often have to end abruptly.
It is never a big deal and I am always aware he has a wife and a marriage and he is presumably happy. She seems lovely and they’ve known each other forever.
We are in this weird thing together, all of us. I am respectful of his marriage. She is presumably aware that he has someone new in his life as we are in constant contact.
In looking back through some old messages, I remembered his saying that he couldn’t believe I said yes when he asked me out.
Between last night and this morning, I reread pretty much everything we have said to each other. Thousands of messages, dozens of emails, and dates and calls and this connection is complicated.
We have been completely enthralled by each other since the beginning. Since before we met. And that connection keeps getting stronger, which means it is getting more complicated.
It has been more than a month since we have been speaking, less than that since we met, but we have spoken every single day, even if it’s just, a hi, I am really really busy today.
I was thinking about him this morning, after I had texted him at the time he is normally heading to his office, and I hadn’t gotten a response. It was a weird text story I had sent him from my morning’s chaotic adventure. I should have sent it via FB, rather than to his phone, and he was ignoring me, so I apologized via FB.
And, of course he was not ignoring me. He was asleep. He had gotten up, taken his children to school, and then sat back down and fell asleep for 45 minutes, which then put him 45 minutes behind what he wanted to accomplish today.
He called me from the car, commenting immediately on my tale.
Then we started talking about music venues and sound quality and terrible rooms and great ones and teasing each other about music.
He thinks I have terrible taste in music.
Which is funny for a LOT of reasons.
As he drives, I hear the ambient noise, and I know when he has gotten to to work. We are both aware that I am between his office and his house, about 7 minutes off the highway he takes daily. We don’t mention it, nor do we mention that this is the longest we have ever gone without seeing each other.
He’s stressed out. I assume it’s work-related. He is leaving for a work-trip this weekend, a conference, and he feels like he is constantly behind.”
I don’t demand to see him. I don’t demand anything from him at all.
But, I get him. I get to have him in my life, and he gets to have me in his and it works for a lot of reasons. It works well.
My life is better because he has been in it.
Were it to end tomorrow, this has been a net-gain.
He is lovely and caring and thoughtful and he has inspired me to be better in my own life.
He is present in a way that is important.
And, I cannot worry about days and weeks to come. We have talked about things that happen in the future, and I have teased him that by November, I will be a distant memory.
By November, it will be different . . . it would have to be. This is not sustainable as it is. Feelings will deepen and/or lessen.
But for now, I have this remarkable man in my life, in my head, and about 2 times a week in my bed.
I am in this intense, passionate thing. He is in many parts of my life. He asks me intensely personal questions — did you get paid yet? do you have health insurance? how’d you get that scar? — and I don’t. Often, he has told me about his health, his finances, his whatever — but though he mentions his wife and children openly, we don’t spend a lot of time talking about them. My life affects him. His family does not really affect mine.
I am aware that it’s kinda fucked up that the healthiest, most present relationship I have been in in years is with someone else’s husband, while I am actively dating other people.
But, that’s where we are.
This is good.
And it’s getting better.
Someday it will end and we will be the best of friends. And we will occasionally look back and think, wow.