Two steps forward

With my birthday coming up soon I decided to go out for drinks and a night out on the town with a few friends. I’ve never really cared about my birthday in the past, too many unpleasant childhood memories made it easier to ignore it than celebrate it, but before everything fell to shit between us Inamorata encouraged me to make the most of it, and so I thought I might as well do that.
After throwing an open invitation up on social media I got an encouraging number of positive replies – a fair few colleagues and even a few old friends said they’d be there and were excited for it. Inamorata said she couldn’t make it, which saddened me at the time but quickly passed from my mind. I deliberately didn’t go to the office Christmas party because I didn’t want my misery to tarnish it for her, so I thought this might be her returning the favor.
Then today I hear from one of her close friends that she will be coming out after dinner with her husband.

BLAM!.   Gutshot

Things still aren’t good between us at work, and whilst I’m slowly getting there with the whole professional not personal thing I’m a little worried about seeing her outside of the office again. A million thoughts have crossed my mind since I was told, some exciting but highly improbable, others more unsettling and unfortunately far more likely.
So I’m left hanging again, a mild sense of dread clouding an event I was, up untill today, really looking forward to.

All I can do is wait and see what happens, but the gnawing fear is hard to ignore – I’m already mentally preparing myself for being hurt again


Way back when

When I said Thank You it wasn’t for anything you’d done, it was for making me feel a little less like dying.

When I said Your Beautiful it wasn’t because you’d done your hair special or worn something different, it was because I looked inside you and saw how kind, generous and loving you could be.

When I said I Love You it was because of the reasons above, and because I felt privileged to have had you in my life.


Some pains you never truely get over, you just learn to live with them a little better.

It took me nearly a decade to finally deal with the loss of my mother, but I’m getting there.

Loosing a close personal friend and lover is another thing all together though, especially when you have to see them most days.

10 words

“I don’t like being the other woman in your life…”

A moment of jealousy, a calculated jibe, a peek into her soul, or maybe just another flippant comment. Whatever it was, it struck a chord within me.

We’d been seeing alot of each other, both at and outside of work, for a couple of months already, but from memory we’d only slept together twice up until that point, our first time at a friend’s house and the second time an early morning meet at work.

But after she whispered those words in my ear everything changed.

I never thought about the fact that I’d still be the other man in her life – her husband was working away alot at that time and we spent so much time together anyways that I guess I already thought of her as mine.

What a fool I was……….

If she wasn’t newly married and (rightly) concerned about the fallout a divorce or separation would cause with both his and her own family I like to think she would have left him and we’d be sat on the sofa together right now, her watching some stupid soap opera and me playing contentedly with her tits.

Damn I miss those nights……

But some things just aren’t ment to be, so I’m sat here again, alone and slightly drunk, pouring out the dregs of the anger, sorrow and love i have for a woman I barely feel I know any more.

And with each outpouring and every breath I take I feel the weight lift from my soul just a fraction.

Accentuate the Positive

I’ve always been a negative person, old beyond my years, the guy to see the cloud in every silver lining, a bit of a fun-sponge.

But counciling taught me to look on the bright side, stay positive, and find solutions instead of concentrating on problems, so here goes….

Sure I’ve had my heart broken, but wtf do you expect when you knowingly hook up with a married woman.?.

The lesson there is obvious lol

I whine alot about all I’ve lost – friends, family, a home, my morals – but I’ve come through it all stronger for the experience.

Maybe I needed​ a little alone time to find myself.
Perhaps being forced to move house has allowed me to let go of the past.
What if all this is just setting me up for a better future?.

None of this positive thinking provides me with any practical solutions to my current dilemma – I’m still a wage slave forced to confront his incredibly painful past on a daily basis, but hey, it is what it is.

Right now I feel like I’m just polishing a turd, but this turd is all I have, so I’m gonna polish it until it shines


Why am I having such trouble letting go of her and moving on?.

Is it because I’m angry that I left my fiancé, had to sell the house my father gifted me after he put so much love into making it a home for my mother, have lost contact with family and now live a lonely hollow life..?..
Is it because I’m jelous that, after all I’ve thrown away, she gets to carry on living her life as normal, happy with her husband, whilst mine has been turned upside down..?..
Is it because I’m hurt that after all we shared I’m just another ex she’s friends with, a guy she’d smile at and say hi as she passes, but will never show her true self to again..?..
Is it because I’m stupid enough to forgive her all her faults and wish her happiness even as I suspect she’d rather never see me again..?..
Or maybe it’s​ because I’m foolish enough to still hope and dream of an impossible future where we end up togeather..?..

Unfortunately it’s pretty obvious that it’s a combination of all of the above.

Selfish, lazy, over emotional and fucked up – all phrases Inamorata has used to describe me over the years, and all true…

I wish I was the kind of guy who could take shit like this on the chin, laugh it off and then carry on with his life unphased, but I’m not.

Thank the gods that this chapter of my life has taught me enough that I can now more or less hide just how broken I am

Peek behind the mask

I like that talking to Inamorata is getting easier, the barriers I’ve put up around my heart are doing their job and shielding me from the worst of it, but it’s still a lie.
Hearing her talk about her recent holiday and the unmistakable undercurrent of excitement about their next one hurt.
Luckily my shields deflected most of it, I smiled and said all the appropriate things, and a part of me is truely happy that she seems to be back to her old self.
But at the same time another tiny part of me died.
The mask I wear not only protects me from seeing the woman I gave up everything for happy with someone else, it also there to protect her.
She knows how I feel about her, she knows how this has affected me, and I like to think she would make it better if she could, but she can’t.
She doesn’t need to be reminded of the past.
So each morning I put on my mask, deflect what I can, cope with the pain when something slips through, and do my best to make it through another day.
Luckily I still have a place where I can be myself. Here, in this blog, I can speak the words left unspoken.
Here I can let the mask slip.

Naming your Fears

Underneath all the emotional pain and self-loathing I have doubts, worries, fears. Their not really tangible, more niggling concerns that have plagued me until (1) I finally realised I had them, and (2) I thought them through and rationalised them.

That Inamorata is unhappy at work is undeniable – she told me herself that she​ doesn’t feel like she has a real job role any more. Take into ​account one of the team pushing for a pay bump that puts him earning more than her and then having the front to tell her and you can see why she might be a little disheartened. These facts, along with other workplace whispers, lead me to believe that Inamorata may well be leaving the company sooner rather than later.
Since the affair ended and our friendship more or less died with it its always been my intention to leave, both for her sake and mine. In my head going our own separate ways can only make things better – we won’t be forced to confront the past every day, and maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to be friends again. Now that she’s made the first steps (an assumption on my part as she’s told me nothing) I’m actually a little relieved, but the not knowing is a worry in itself.

My second fear is that Inamorata may split from her husband. Apart from a few odd comments made by co-workers I have no basis for this fear, but I’m sure I’m not the only one there who gets the feeling that she isn’t as happy in her marriage as she wants to be.
When we first embarked on our affair I was under the delusion that I would leave my fiancé, she would leave her husband, and we’d both live happily ever after – naïve I know, but I was madly and deeply in love with her, and still had to learn that you don’t always get what you want.
My worries in this event are numerous: what if she leaves him and doesn’t want me?. What if she does want me but we don’t work out?. What if we do work out then my self-distructive psyche goes and ruins it?. What if we work out and I go and die of a heart attack or stroke or whatever and leave her alone and unhappy again?.
No, for her sake I hope she works it out with her husband, she loves him dearly and disserves happiness, even with the transgressions she’s made in the past.
But I do worry about her – its hard not to worry about people you love.

My final worry is about my future. There’s talk the company we work for may be the subject of another corporate takeover, and as we’re still sorting out the mess from the last business integration the prospect of another (however much it can only be an improvement over the current situation) is troubling. Part or me wants to jump ship as soon as possible whilst the remainder wants me to see where this is all heading. I’ve never delt with uncertainty very well, but the time I spent with Inamorata have hardened me to it somewhat, she’s never been one for a straight Yes or No answer.

So, there we are, my fears laid bare. I know there’s nothing I can do expect wait to see which, if any, manifest themselves in the future, but where once I pride myself on my patience I’m sure you’ll agree that something’s are better resolved sooner rather than later.

Rebuilding broken Me

I started thinking about the similarities between the emotional fallout from my affair and the chronic pain I also live with..
Both come and go in intensity – there are good days and bad days, but the pain is always there, lurking below the surface. Most days I can handle it, I have physio routines to keep my body functioning and coping strategies to ease my anguish.
But some days it just hits, BOOM!., and I’m a mess.
Usually I know when I’ve over exerted myself physically, the aches get worse, but occasionally it’s something completely innocuous, a slight wrong movement, and I’m in agony. In these circumstances I take tablets, maybe lay down, or if it’s major then take a day off work, but these instances are rare – as broken as it is I can feel my body slowly healing, and it’s a relief.
The emotional pain mirrors this, it can be an interpersonal situation, a smell, a thought, and then in seconds my world come crashing down. Every time I see her it’s like a punch in the gut, memories rise to the surface unbidden and  threaten to overwhelm me and I feel the loss of her acutely. Dark thoughts follow soon after, most usually of escape, from the situation I’m in at the time, from the job that forces me to confront her every day, from my life in general.
But, like the physical pain, I’m learning to live with, cope with, this pain a little better every day.

I’ve talked alot about the lies I’ve told myself over the last few years, they helped protect from the harsh reality of my situation but also prolonged my anguish, but with the slow coming of acceptance I thought a brief look at the truths (as I believe them) would help to add a touch of perspective and balance.

So many times every day I wish I could talk to Inamorata about the non-corporeal us, but our mindsets and modes of articulation are so nearly diametrically opposed that such discussions almost invariably fall to semantics and disagreement, so I’ve more or less stopped trying.

Below are my truths, both good and bad, soft and hard, happy and sad, arranged in their corresponding pairs:

She loves me.
She’s in love with her husband.

She wants me.
She’s chosen to be with him.

What we had was special.
It’s over now.

She’s made her decision.
Now I have to live with it.

Now if only it was as simple as repeating these truths like a mantra maybe I could brainwash myself into finally letting go, but I know her, so I know nothing will ever be black and white.