it’s time i came clean: i've been caught in a dangerous liaison, all of my own volition. and one i've relished and enjoyed, despite it clearly being wrong. so here goes my confession. and writing seems the best way to do it. so bear with me as i undergo this catharsis in unraveling what has now become my reality: my story. i have been involved with a taken man.
bear in mind there will be no shedding of any tears here. as much as i care and respect him (as much as any woman can care and respect this sort of man,) i have to admit he’s not worth it. i may hang my head in shame at participating in such unscrupulous behavior, but crying isn’t going to get me anywhere. hiding under a rock and exclaiming, “i just want to die!” won’t solve the problem either. (the first hunger pang would strike, and you’d find me at potato champion, and maybe whiffie pie while i'm at it.) all i can do is just stop now. but the truth is --- i don’t want to. and that’s what kills me the most.
there’s a reason i got mixed up in all this to begin with. after all, i am no fool. you won’t find me comparing myself to his girlfriend (who i don’t know anyway,) nor will you find me making any sort of superiority claims as though i’m God’s gift to mankind. (okay, maybe just a little. i can’t help myself.) i call it like it is: a dangerous liaison. i’m the cecile de volanges to his vicomte de valmont. at first, i was ever the reluctant, knowing it was wrong, worried about compromising my own confession of morality. but it was exciting. it was new. and soon, i became the willing participant, relishing in the wonders of secret rendezvous. and if you haven’t dangerous liaisons, GET IT NOW. it's my fav.
but back to the story at hand. it’s okay to judge me. i deserve it. especially the not wanting to give him up part. sure, i know all the ramifications of what i’m doing. i know he doesn’t respect me. i know he doesn’t respect his girlfriend. and the reality is i would never want to date him even if he did break up with her. after all, who's to say he wouldn't do it to me? and quite frankly, i am much better without him in my life, thank you very much. i know there’s no justification worthy of such behavior, even if his girlfriend was the biggest fuck in the world, it doesn’t make any of it right. and i know it messes with my head. i know it consumes much more of me than i would care to admit. and all i can say is: i like him. (insert eye roll.) i like what we have. which really isn't anything, nor does it mean anything. there are any number of men i could like instead, men that have the capacity to forge a meaningful relationship with me.
yet, instead of allowing myself to truly internalize its deepening significance, i’ve decided to brush it off as meaningless, secretly hoping i'll never have to deal with it, that it will just sort of work itself out in the end. we know that will never happen.
i don’t know why he has such a hold on me. it's utter foolishness. do i really think so poorly of myself that i need his accolades? besides, in this relationship, he gets the better end of the deal, for he’s getting everything he wants from me, while i'm left with nothing. i could argue as a woman of this day and age that i can think and act like a man, separating the emotional from the physical, but i can’t. and i don’t want to.
so here is my confession. here is my dangerous liaison. and i write because it keeps me accountable. and because i'm at a point in my life where i actually want my life to mean something. and i don't need anything to hold me back. but i would be remiss at leaving out one part: as wrong as all this was, i am thankful. thankful because for one of the first times in my life i felt i could be completely myself and not be ashamed at my 80s loving, heel wearing, cookie baking self. i could be the biggest goober on the planet and all it did was make the affair that much more exciting. but was that even true? i don't think i'll ever know.