It was a bored right swipe, that turned into a remarkable friendship and incredible love.
We quickly became best friends. As his love for literature matched mine, we took the line from Anne of Green Gables and dubbed ourselves "Kindred Spirits". Almost daily, one of us would remark about how shocked we were to have found each other on such a ridiculous app. We would text constantly, and when we ran out of things to say, we would write stories together. We were pirates, war lords, mercenaries, and spies. We would turn mundane tasks into adventures. Speaking with him with like talking to a life long friend or reading a good book. His command of English was beautiful. I loved to read his messages or hear him speak. He woke up a part of me that I thought had long been dead.
He was the character I had been writing for years. Strong. Stoic. Humble. Determined. I fell fiercely in love the moment our eyes met. He was brilliant in every aspect. He was so familiar and so comforting. He was like the men you read about in history books. I adored breaking his resolute gaze into a smile. He would often comment on how easy I made it seem, and how no one ever had before. I loved everything about him... and it was mutual.
He made a comment about my hands one night, and I responded with surprise about his adoration. He simply said, "I have loved everything about you, even the things you thought I wouldn't or shouldn't. Why would this be any different?" He spoke of me like I was poetry. Everything about me was beautiful when he spoke. My large hands were suddenly artists hands. My short legs were suddenly "Strong and attractive which combine into something both effortless and graceful." Every physical "defect" I saw was marvelous in his eyes, but that's hardly what won me. He fell in love with my mind first. It was magnificent, exceptionally capable, and quite intriguing". Yes, he adored me as much as I did him. He wasn't afraid of my story either. Instead of seeing a broken past, he saw strength and grace. He saw me like I have never been seen.
He became my strength, my best friend, and my refuge. We would walk and talk for hours. He adored my "wild and raw" side, how I was unafraid to be simply me. He loved my strength and independence. He loved that I was a warrior and capable. Despite that, he still treated me like I was precious. I have never met a man who treated me with respect as an equal, but also as someone to protect. It is hard to treat a woman like a lady and a warrior at the same time, but he did and how I loved him for it. He was so invested in me. In my work. In my hobbies. I was loved wholly and completely. Everything about me and who made up my world were important to him.
The first time we hugged, and I felt his arms around me, I knew I found home. Before I could say it, he marveled at how perfectly I fit. And oh, how we fit. Eventually, we knew it was wholly a pristine fit. All our angles and curves synchronized in beautiful harmony. Even when he would hold me during a movie, he would always comment. We were in constant awe of how physically, mentally, and emotionally we matched. Those were some of the happiest months of my life.
So when I pulled up to a country house with a white picket fence, I couldn't help but think how perfect he was. My dream partner, my dream location, my dream fence... and like most my dreams, they end in a nightmare. He answered the door as I watched a woman hug a sweater around herself tightly. I wanted to hate her for having my dream, but I couldn't. After all, I was the one who unknowingly imposed on hers. She didn't come out when he did. She didn't hear him tell me that it wasn't what it looked like. That they had been separated and it was only for their son. She didn't wonder when he left to come see me later. I was angry, but hurt. When he said it was for their son, I begged him not to. I asked him how it was so easy to walk away. "It isn't" was his pained reply. He didnt deny when I talked about our love... but he had to do this... He wanted to still be friends. He wanted to still hold each other accountable for things we had discussed before. It killed me when I said no.
If they were starting over, I couldn't be in the picture. I asked if she knew about me. When he said no, I told him that she needed to. Either he could tell her or I could. He said he wanted to wait till after the holidays and I told him to do as he wished. I wouldn't promise anything. I told him I wanted to burn his world down. He told me to do what I felt was best, he wouldn't be mad, and could never hate me. I walked him out. I hugged him goodbye and he picked me up with his hug. It was bittersweet as he knew I hated to be picked up, but always told him I let him because I knew he wouldn't let me fall. It hurt, but I didn't look back when I went back inside.
Suddenly, my phone was silent. No more good mornings and good nights. No more stories. No more checking in on each other. It was like a death. I felt sick for days. I had forgotten what heartbreak felt like. Despite wanting to have faith in him, my conscience was nagging. If he had lied for so long, could I believe what he said? Despite the situation, my soul was tormented with the guilt of possibly being the other woman. So I prayed and then I called her.
I made sure my makeup and hair wasn't done. I wore jeans and a hoodie that made sure my physique and tattoos were covered. I didn't want to look like I was flaunting anything. She walked in the opposite of everything I am. We sat, we talked, and we sat in silence. It was all a lie. I asked her to forgive me for what I had done. She graciously offered it as well as an apology for my hurt. I promised not to bother them again, and I didn't look back.
I childishly would wish that he would show back up, and choose me. I would fight back tears when I would drive by the places we wandered. My lamenting, I believe, has come to an end. Months have gone by. The pain has lessened. I don't feel him like I use to. I don't miss him as much as I did. I had asked God to heal me and do as he wished with the rest. Slowly, that prayer became less selfish as I asked to have grace and peace with whatever happened. Then I asked for the bonds between us to be broken. Tonight, for the first time, I asked him to heal and bless their marriage. I surprised myself as I prayed it because I truly mean it.
I'm hurt that I will always be "the other woman" to her. I would never have entertained a friendship, let alone a relationship with someone I knew I was married. I'm hurt that he knew my past and still chose to continue with the lies. I'm hurt that he and I lost our best friend. I am deeply hurt in so many ways. However, I do have peace. I did what I needed to instead of what I wanted. There will be healing. I know now that if he could be all that he was to me, there is no reason that there isn't someone out there that could be more.
Before he left, he asked me if I would quit smoking. He was worried about my health told him it wasn't his place to worry or ask such things. He asked if I could get back into church. Again, I told him he had no business to make requests of me. He looked hurt as I cast away his care... but I know he meant them because he saw the value in me. I can't help but laugh as I am starting to see it also. God and I have a long road ahead of us. I suppose quitting soon would be a good idea as I don't want to be out of breath for our next adventure. Hopefully, next time, I'll have a church I'm involved in for back up.
