I knew he was not the right man for me, but I wanted him regardless. I knew he wasn’t my type, but the heart wants what it wants. I knew it would be morally wrong for me to entertain him, but my feelings knew no boundaries. He gave me chills, did I want to get the chills? Absolutely not but I got them anyway. He was not the man of my dreams, I couldn’t tell who the man of my dreams was anymore. All I know is that I was trying to be the proverbs 30 woman, for my husband. I wanted to have eyes for him only, my love to belong to only him but my eyes wandered, my feelings went on an adventure without consulting me, without seeking permission from me. I tried to set them straight, to show them who was boss but they defied me.
Lusting after another man when you are married is a sin, it’s said to be a way of committing adultery. There were a lot of limiting factors, things that would make it impossible for us to be happy in the event that we decided to pursue whatever we were feeling. There was the society’s expectations, our families’ expectations, our own expectations. When I love someone, there is a certain level of expectation I have from them. If I love you, I will love everything that there is to you, I will love your mother, your sister, your brother, your friends. I will buy presents for your mom and your entire clan, I will even worship her if that’s what it takes. If I were to be with him, I would have some expectations, lots of expectations which I was certain he wouldn’t live up to. But I didn’t want any sort of commitment with him.
I wish he didn’t tell me all those sweet nothings, maybe I wouldn’t have desired him as much as I did. If his words would have fallen on deaf ears nothing like this would have happened. He was slowly becoming an aphrodisiac, a drug to me; some sort of addiction. He had ripped me off my power, my control, taken over my mind, my body, my emotions, literally my everything. I never fancied being powerless. I always wanted to have the final word especially when it came to my feelings. He was married with kids while I was married with secrets. The skeletons in my closet would send my dear husband into shock; he’d probably get a heart attack or die from high blood pressure.
His words could not leave my head, they were playing over and over again; they were on repeat. I tried so hard to concentrate on my work but I couldn’t. I could hear his voice, I could see his face, the look in his eyes as he asked me those questions? He wanted to know If I loved him….how could I have answered that? I barely understood why I was in his bed, again. I had sworn to myself that I would never cheat on my husband but here I was doing exactly that.
But it felt right; I waited for an ounce of guilt to crop up but guilt was nowhere to be found. He was a married man and a father. He said he did not want to have kids with any other woman but wanted some company. I was okay with the arrangement we had, it was working perfectly for me; despite the worry that lingered in me. I hoped we would keep love out of this arrangement. At first, it was just an affair, a release point for me, a benefit kind of thing…. But then the friendship grew, we were feeding the friendship day in day out. We got really comfortable around each other, started sharing more than necessary. We could talk about anything and everything, for long hours. We could actually sit up on weekends and talk.
We talked about our families, our significant others and the special people in our lives. All this while, I was convincing myself that I would not get hooked to him. I was determined not to. I couldn’t. I knew there was no way he could leave his wife and kids for me; and if he could, I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave my husband for him. It would be impossible for me to leave my husband, he was the love of my life, my soul mate, my confidant, my partner in crime and he always said I was his missing rib. I couldn’t imagine my life without my husband, I was not sure I could live without him. That’s why I didn’t want to develop feelings for my other man. I did not even understand why I was cheating on my husband with the immense love I had for him.
His opinion about our affair however started changing. We started talking about love: he’d ask questions and expect me to answer honestly. He became inquisitive about my feelings for him. He confessed of his feelings for me, he said he wanted us to love each other even though we could never be together forever. I asked him what the point of nurturing feelings of love for each other was, when we truly knew we would eventually have to end the affair at some point…he couldn’t answer. I was not looking for permanence, neither was I searching for love, I already had love. I was very sure of what I didn’t want but could barely tell what I wanted. He said that even though I was his other woman and him, my other man, we needed love for it to work out between us.
I told him, I didn’t want to keep my feelings of love for him around anymore. I said I didn’t want to be too attached to him. But he begged me not to stop loving him. He asked me to love only him, well besides my husband. He promised, to love only me besides his wife. He said that the only thing that prevented him from committing fully to me was his children and that for him to be with his children, he had to be with their mother. Well I couldn’t quite comprehend this. However dysfunctional he claimed their relationship to be, he was willing to stick it out? Using his children as the reason as to why he couldn’t leave her!?! Well, it’s not as if I wanted him to leave her, I wasn’t that selfish.
In weeks to come, he inquired constantly if I still loved him, he wanted to be assured of his place in my life. He even expressed his dislike towards my husband, saying he didn’t want me to be with him anymore. He asked me if I would consider being his second wife, I refused of course. He said he was jealous of my husband that he wanted me all to himself. How selfish of him? He was not in a position to make demands, I wasn’t either. We were in this situation simply because we were too weak to tame our desires our unwanted emotions, our lust for each other.
After a while, I realized that he was struggling with these immense feelings he had for me, how could he not when we were having sex, unprotected sex. He called it making love. I started getting those feelings too. It was hard to separate love from ‘no strings attached ‘. I did not recognize myself anymore. My feelings were all over, my emotions in a turmoil, in short I was in, all in as in two feet deep head completely drenched and drowned all in, in this muddy affair. Who would save me from myself, from my emotions, from my misplaced feelings. I needed divine intervention like yesterday. I was about to self destruct. How could you put love and temptation on one weighing scale. It was pointless to compare them, with one my future was intact, secure in fact; but with the other I had everything to loose. But my spirit was adamant to let go. Somehow I could not convince myself to do the right thing.
But who said that that was the right thing to do? What was the measure of right and wrong? What happens in the event that you are completely hooked in the wrong thing? What was the right thing to do when my mind and my heart were at war. They all wanted the lead role. I was left there helpless, so helpless I could barely ask for help. Damn oh damn, It felt worse than the devil. It was as if I had met the devil, looked her in the eye…I saw her in me. She had completely taken control of my senses, my everything. I detested the person I had become, I judged myself very harshly and forgot that it was God’s job to judge me.
I wanted so much to get over those feelings, but it seemed as if the more I resisted the more resilient they became. He wanted to go all out with me; that would be impossible for me. I did not want to be wined and dined, I did not want to be pursued like a new lover who had caught the attention of her enchanter. I was looking for a pass time not anything serious; after all I had little to offer. I had given so much of me to my husband, there was nothing more left to give. He gave me a souvenir, he said that bracelet made him think of me . He said he had resolved to show me in action how much I meant to him. I appreciated the gesture, who doesn’t want to be loved? Who doesn’t want a gift? A souvenir? A reference point to the hot and steamy affair that made my blood boil with desire, who doesn’t want to have a constant reminder of the other man? Who doesn’t? Not me of course.
I would have put a tattoo of his face on my face to let the whole world know that I fancied him, if he had been single and I had not been taken. I would have engraved his name in bold dark ink on the surface of my heart if that would have proved to him that he was special to me. Instead I chose to wear that bracelet every day and night. That way I’ll see it and think of him, it will keep him close to my heart. That way, he won’t be completely out of sight. I will keep this souvenir, I will keep it like a treasure.
I have my reservations with him, my other man. He comes with a tag written ‘proceed with caution’. It was definite that he would lead me into heartache, but I was ready to be vulnerable for him. When I am lying in bed with my husband, I am there physically but my mind is in another town, lying in another man’s bed, another woman’s husband bed; making love to him. That’s how much my other man had gotten into my head. He was getting skin deep and I didn’t like it one bit. Was I in love with him? I don’t think so, I think it was more of…being intrigued by him.
I doubt that it’s possible for a woman to love two men at the same time. They say that you can love someone lightly, the way you love a good ice cream cone; loving is a matter of degree.