real life
the reality of our mutual admiration society is one in which we are buoys in one another’s harbors of real life. truthfully, when we met and embarked on what was to be the fwb ideal, he was traveling to the west coast, specifically my area, roughly every 3-4 months. and he did return, two months later for a few days and then all sorts of real life changed the face of his clients, the areas in which he traveled and worse of all, his personal life was dealt a blow that impacted his bride and he had to focus elsewhere. we muddled through, with several weeks where he went dark, i was confused and being inexperienced and naïve, didn’t understand when he compartmentalizes, it’s a complete shut off of communication of any kind. and yet we reconnected (ok, ok if you ask him, he doesn’t think he went dark, really, and there was never a doubt we would reconnect) and by the fall of that first year, as he was balancing the challenges in his real life, he proved to be a good friend and companion, virtually, when a medical crisis imploded within my own family. even though weeks had gone by, almost 18, i was more connected than ever. and when we met that year, it was as if we weren’t apart. last year, we were fortunate to see one another on a steady cadence, more importantly we knew when we would see each other again. While I wouldn’t trade those times together, I know myself well enough to know that i was going to miss him. Terribly so. And each separation is harder than the next. I provide this rambling for context. You see, traveling to meet one another, on the cadence of his business travel or when i can travel on business out his way, isn’t sustainable. In his line of work, more and more of the client interactions can be done online, via Skype or virtual meetings, and the cost savings are too great to ignore. And so I wonder, will we fall into a Same Time Next Year or One Day cadence? Will that be enough for him? The bigger question is will I be able to live with and accept that as a new reality? Will I be able to reconcile that he will likely, if he doesn’t already, have a local “lady friend” and of course his bride? Or, as I become reflective and even more contemplative as of late, will we simply come to an end of the road? i too wish for the happy ending, mine just looks different than most, in that it would be to be together, in parallel to our real lives, for as long as possible. if even for those moments strung together once a year.
friends. interesting concept as you get older, in my opinion. then of course, there are frenemies, and don’t tell me you don’t know what i’m talking about. because i have spent most of my life in the company of the male gender, and can attest to being a tomboy well into adulthood, i am much more comfortable socializing, working and sharing with guys. platonically. i’ve always had girlfriends as well but my comfort level and where i felt most like myself was with the guys. and in looking back, my biggest heartache or betrayals were at the hands of women friends. i say this because some of the anonymous comments and messages that have come my way via this blog and frankly, even my tumblr have been the usual hate messages one would expect when you put yourself out there. not just the haters, but those that want to make sure i know that i am a whore, a slut, a cheater, the karma is a bitch, or the “you think you are so different and won’t do it again when you and your long distance guy end things. but you watch, you whores are all the same and you’ll end up stealing one of your friend’s husbands!”-wow, bitter much?!
can i say unequivocally that if and when he and i end i won’t someday seek a relationship out side of my marriage again? no i cannot. what i can say, as i have repeatedly, is that this isn’t a relationship or a situation i entered into lightly. it wasn’t supposed to be a relationship. my heart cannot do this again. i can’t envision it, or imagine it.
as for the comments about being a cheap whore, slut, tramp etc. that probably throws my cleavage about and wear’s high heeled shoes with jeans or go without a bra in flimsy t-shirt. omfg, lol-so, if you haven’t learned anything from reading my posts, or the about me or visiting my tumblr. i am confident i don’t give off a “vibe”. i am your average, under the radar, overweight, middle aged, soccer mom. so much so that i have had men and women alike tell me that it’s so nice they don’t have to compete with me because i am so not a “threat”. my daily uniform, even at work, is typically a pair of chucks, jeans, t-shirt or sweater topped off with a fleece jacket. on wet days i add a north face rain shell.
look, i am not mocking all of you that have sent me numerous messages. i get it. i do. but stand in line because if any of you think i don’t think about the implications of being in love with and sexually involved with another person, let alone a married person, whilst still married, then you would be wrong. do i have guilt about seeking what i am missing? no i don’t. i do have guilt for not feeling guilt but that’s another matter entirely.
must be one of those days. limited contact the last few days due to his travel and my meeting schedule. today was the first day where we had 90-minutes of virtual time, most of which is just keeping one another company whilst online and we’re working in our respective offices 3000 miles apart.
i was hungry for the interaction. feeling nauseous from the chemo, a bit lonely and tired. informed me that he’s taking another overseas trip in april during the time we were trying to plan a trip to meet on the west coast. of course work comes first, he knows that. i know that. but it doesn’t mean it didn’t sting a bit. and then he had to go, suddenly which means that his bride was in the office today. and the goodbye is cold and perfunctory. *sigh* i get it, i just don’t like it. not today of all days.
I don’t know if it’s because of my reading material lately; blogs, books, magazine articles, what not. but I have been thinking about good-bye a lot. Maybe it’s the cancer talking, I don’t know. I know that when I read fellow bloggers posts’ I am right there with them as they document their feelings; raw and real.
Maybe it’s because our current separation, 17-weeks and counting, was preceded by moments together every 2-weeks over the course of three months. Maybe it’s because, by all accounts; his recounting his history and my overactive mind; while he has had 7 lovers outside of his marrage (i’m #7) they’ve all been relatively “long-term” given the nature/start of the relationship. And I can’t help but wonder if my expiration date is coming soon? I mean, when we started, he was still traveling to my side of the country (ok, ok, to my city) about every 2-months. Then his industry took a bit of a hit and the clients and customers he has out here weren’t needing his attention as much as the clients in the states surrounding his. So how long will I be the “flavor”? How long until our distance and the inconsistent, infrequency of moments in real life isn’t enough?
Just random musings playing about my head…
Most of my life, okay, all of my life, I’ve always been “one of the guys”, a tomboy, the wing-girl, the girl that the guys at the bar cozy up to, talk to in order to get into the pants of the girls that I’m hanging out with. Or the gal that the guys hung out with because I was easy to talk to and could make them look “safe” to the gals they were checking out when we were at the local pub catching a game. And I’ve always enjoyed that role, particularly when hanging out with the guys. It gave me such fascinating insight into the way men behave and think.
Believe it or not, it has always served me well. Being a gal that played sports, specifically as the only girl on a team, it has served me well. Socially and professionally. I have worked with professional athletes, c-suite executives and a couple that are now ceo’s of very public companies. I’m friends with many of those same men. Just friends.
I was thinking about that the other day, and I believe it’s because I am not a threat to the women in their lives or them. The women don’t see me as a threat or rather know that I am only a friend or a colleague because I don’t meet the standards they have in their own minds of what a mistress or the other woman would look like. Certainly not an overweight, middle management soccer mom. And the men, these men, some whom I know intimately (as friends, not in the typically associated intimately way) they don’t have an interest in me for the same reasons. I’m just this gal that they know and or work with, sometimes both that has not betrayed a confidence nor have I ever used our connection for favors. If I have ever sought tickets to a sold out event, I’ve always paid my way. I’ve never asked for a referral or for swag etc. It’s not my way, never has been, never will be.
As I was out with a friend and the frenemies (they deserve a post all their own) tonight, it struck me how much they really don’t know me. They are long time friends of my friend Wen (Wendy), they tolerate me as I’m a bit too direct, too average for them. And yet, sometimes for grins and giggles, I will accept the invitation from Wen to join her and these women (there’s a whole group of them-all trophy wives) because it’s entertaining.
There are two specifically that are mean girls. Yes, just like the movie with Lindsay Lohan and Rachel McAdams. They were likely very popular in high school and are gorgeous, trophy wife types in middle age. They are well educated, well heeled and married to driven, successful, wealthy and good looking men. And yet they are clearly not happy because everyone is a target, a target to their ridicule and disdain. For the life of me, I have no idea how Wen became friends with them in the first place. No, wait, that’s not true. They all met and bonded over children born around the same time and were part of an exclusive mommy & me playgroup started in infancy. And until 3 years ago, Wen was a trophy wife as well, without the attitude or lineage, but I digress.
They make no bones about the fact that they believe that my darling husband’s issue with my weight is valid and my own fault and that as a plus size woman, I have no right to expect him to be attracted to me. They openly mock me when I order the patty melt with fries and ask for tartar sauce on the side. They are the two out of the group that love it when the local soccer dads swarm around us to pay attention to them. They are the two that when we go out as a group, if our bar tabs aren’t paid for by some men they get so offended they can’t believe it and get upset. And yet, they are two of the most naturally beautiful women I have ever met. For a plus size gal like me, they embody what I have always wished I could be. Tall, athletic, not overtly slender, normal appetites, flat stomachs, nary an ounce of pudge and breasts that look as if they’ve never nursed. Gorgeous skin, naturally full eye lashes and stunningly beautiful eyes. And yet their caustic personalities and the need to make sure every female around them knows she is inferior to them makes them so ugly.
As one was bragging about all of the men that hit on her, and how she feels sorry for fat women that don’t know what it’s like to have a man really lust for you, desire you and genuinely want to be with you, she looks directly at me, with pity. God, if she only knew. If I could only tell her about him and the last time we were together and I squirted and came so much I had to call housekeeping after he left for a complete change of sheets. Or that he fucks me so thoroughly and completely that the stories we share when I am blushing or giggling I’m thinking of him and not some former lover of my past. I have never been compelled to tell my secret. Ever. But that night, I wanted to in a momentary flash of wanting to make them shut the eff up.
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i only drink water. actually, most days i drink about 80oz. of water. with ice. oh god i love water loaded with ice. i gave up soda for lent my senior year in high school (because i figured it would be easier than giving up chocolate or sex) and haven’t picked it back up. sometimes, when i’m flying, i will have a ginger ale to help with motion sickness. i don’t drink coffee, juice or smoothies. though i’m known to indulge in a milkshake on occasion.
- while i am a smaller bbw, or as he likes to call me, curvy, i’m very active. life long soccer player/coach and i walk a lot.
- i read. a lot. exercise the brain if you will.
Hmm, food (condiments, eggs, salad dressings, eggs, cheeses, a lot of different cheeses, hummus, oranges, green grapes, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, bacon, carrots, snap peas, cucumbers, tomatoes, prepared sugar cookie doug, active greek yogurt, sour cream, etc. ) milk. protein shakes. 3 stella beers (darling husbands), 3 mini-pineapple juice’s (mine), coconut water, 3 diet cheery diet cokes, a bottle of white wine, sliced grilled chicken breast leftover lasagna, 2 gallons of low fat chocolate milk and 4 gallons of non-fat milk (as an Asian kid growing up, my newly immigrated mom didn’t know what milk was and didn’t serve it to my brother and I. but my kids inhale it as if it’s water. 6 gallons of milk a week! fresh, delivered from the local dairy-good lord) open box of baking soda.
distance may indeed be a good governor, but it’s a crappy thing for someone like myself that thrives on connection and communication. even more so when we can’t interact freely and the intervals between our next time together is so great. this current separation is the longest yet. if indeed i travel as planned to a conference i’m attending on the east cost, it will have been 21 weeks since we were last together in real life. that is almost half a year!
i’m heartsick at the thought of not being able to travel. the surgery to remove the tumors was on 12/27 for all intents and purposes it was a success in terms of removal. however on thursday i learned they are malignant with a less than average prognosis. i start treatment tomorrow and there is a very real possibility i will be “grounded” depending on how my body reacts.
he insists i do whatever i need to do to fight this, even if it means delaying travel plans and that he will find a way to visit clients and customers out this way instead. and this is where my over thinking and self doubt comes in. will he? would he really find a way to come and see me if i can’t travel? crazy as it seems, i need to know this-it makes facing treatment that much easier.
oh lordie there are so many. i have been having an ongoing love affair with books since i was a toddler….so i guess if i have to pick one from my childhood i will select the first book i can recollect and the one that I’ve packed and hauled around with me since i first moved out on my own.
goodnight moon….
is me is really me 