I can’t even recall exactly when first contact was made with Tony. I had several weeks of silence, which was good for me. Strangely perhaps, the subsequent contact didn’t pull me back in but instead, helped me move on.
It’s been a long journey to get to this point. Tony’s duplicity is no surprise, nor is his ability to obfuscate and avoid conversations that reveal too much truth. He’s an expert.
So I’m not in any way going to suggest surprise at any of those things.
Despite everything, I suppose I thought once he’d actually made a decision, he would move forward with it. You know, after spending 2.5 years dilly-dallying around.
It’s been 8 months since he agreed with his then-ex that he would move back in. Guess what? He hasn’t yet. His rationale, when I’ve asked, is filled with inconsistencies. She has given him a to-do list before he moves back, he’s been too busy, he doesn’t know what to do with the stuff in his apartment, or he needs a place to escape.
What has ultimately killed things for me is his cowardice, and his inability to stick with his decision. Simply, I’ve lost what respect for him I had left. And that’s a major boner killer.
While I may not have liked it, had he fully stopped engaging with me in a way other than being friends, I would have respected it. Yet he has shown zero guilt or resistance. Even Christmas Eve, in the midst of doing errands for his family dinner that night, he came over and initiated physical contact. Her calling him to ask when he was going to back home didn’t even stop him.
I suppose that’s the crux of my issue. He’s done more family things and spent more time with his son. He’s slept at the house more than he did before. But he’s made a point of telling me about how he is miserable because he’s sleeping on the couch or with his son. Or because their sex isn’t good and it’s incredibly infrequent (and yes, I believe him). Or the fights they get into.
I firmly believe if you are going to make a decision to go back to a marriage (or stay in a marriage), I think you should put some goddamn effort into making it good again in all ways. Or, if you are resigned to your marriage being just for the kids, and it being absent romance or passion, then just admit it – maybe even to your spouse.
I figured perhaps he was simply reluctant to tell me he was making a real effort with her. So I told him there was going to be no chance of us having an actual friendship if he couldn’t be honest with me about both the good and the bad. That he was allowed to tell me if he was happy and things were going well.
And then he came over Christmas Eve and proved even if he was trying with her, he wasn’t above fucking me.
The other issue for me is – not surprisingly – I’m still hidden from his wife. He’s said to me several times he would do anything for me, and I can call him anytime. But the reality is, while they aren’t empty promises, there are major caveats. I can call him anytime, as long as he’s not with her, or in the house. He would do anything for me, as long he can manage it without having to tell anyone.
Frankly, what kind of friendship is that? With someone who won’t ever really tell me what he’s going through, who I can’t call or text when I need to, and who I can’t see? The timing of our interactions will be on his terms. Sure, it’s nice to know that he cares, but I don’t need him to call me to know that he loves me.
So you may wonder why I had sex with him. I had been stuck at home for two weeks. I was feeling down. I was craving affection. Part of my reason was the comfort and pleasure. But another part, and I hate to write it but I have to admit it, is I enjoyed the sexual power I had over him.
I had a very large plaster cast on my leg (still do). I wasn’t wearing any makeup. I was in leggings and a baggy sweater. And there he was, unable to resist touching me or kissing me. I liked it, frankly. And for one brief moment I had the incredibly uncharitable thought of “fuck you” to his wife. It’s the one and only time I’ve ever had a thought like that – perhaps I should chalk it up to the heavy painkillers because it was so uncharacteristic.
He left quickly afterwards – he was due back home, after all – and I hoped he smelled like sex. I wanted him to get caught. I find myself fantasizing about telling her – because I think it’s horrible she’s been lied to by him. I won’t, because I don’t think she deserves to be hurt. I also don’t know the whole story and perhaps she’s accepted everything she suspects. Or maybe she doesn’t care because he’s back, minus the fully moved-in part.
I recognize the prior paragraphs may seem contradictory. But they are honest.
So where does this leave me today? I know I can’t see him in private again – maybe if I’m in an exclusive relationship, because I won’t cheat. Yet talking to him frustrates me, so I have little desire to see him at all. Will he reach out every once in a while? Yes, and I’m fine with that. But so much has broken within me, I think I can move into 2017 finally emotionally free.