The Other Woman

One of my diaries here contains the story of the first time I was the other woman. The fact that I have been more than once does give me pause. The first time though it was different. When I was young, before I was married, when I only saw the world as black and white. He was (and still is in my opinion and that of others who know him) a self centered bastard.

All these years later though and I no longer see the world as black and white. Hell most of the time there’s only gray. My marriage, despite all of my hard work and our good intentions, provided a poisonous environment that allowed me to grow into a person I didn’t like. I’m not proud to say I lied, I cheated, and on more than one occasion I was, and still am, the other woman.

Most days I don’t think of myself as the other woman. He continues to introduce me to more and more of the world of kink and I learn and grow in that place and in these life styles. It is easy in this place of multiple partners, non monogamy and polyamorous marriages, to not think of myself that way. The reality is though, it is non ethical non monogamy. I am the other woman!

My love for him doesn’t change that. Honestly it probably makes it worse. The desire to wake up next to him is over whelming. The desire to meet his friends, his children, to be part of his day to day life heartbreaking. My biggest fear and greatest hope is someday I will have to look her in the eye and tell her how much I love him. Every day I pray that she’ll be strong enough to accept that because I know he’s not strong enough to lose her and I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to keep myself whole if he has to choose her over me.