It happened a couple of years ago, a crisp autumn day as I recall. We both played hooky from work and took advantage of “Free Admission Day” at Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry (MSI). Seemed like a good opportunity to interject some much-lacking culture into our relationship. (I don’t consider Mad Max and Godzilla sequels “culture,” as he does.) I’d never ridden the MSI’s famed “Coal Mine” tram deep into the bowels of the museum, and it was also hosting a robotics exhibition that day. We got there early enough to have the usually-overcrowded coal mine tram all to ourselves, canoodling in the dark like love-struck teenagers. He even took part in a drone demonstration and looked for all the world like a gleeful 10-year-old. To cap off a fun outing, we stopped for lunch at BJ’s, an iconic South Side soul food joint…great BBQ with all the fixin’s.
On the drive home he showed me his balls.
From behind the wheel of my car he began discussing divorce. MINE! (He’d already slipped the bonds of matrimony a decade or so earlier.) I was not considering nor planning a divorce from my husband, I had absolutely NO plans to leave him, but my lover still held out some small hope that I would be all his someday.
I listened incredulously as he told me of his recent visit to a divorce lawyer, asking a lot of “What Ifs” and “How Abouts” on my behalf. The lawyer told him that because my husband and I hadn’t been intimate in many years, we’d basically satisfied our state’s separation requirement. He’d actually taken it upon himself to consult a divorce lawyer for me.
At a stoplight he reached into his jacket pocket, drew out the lawyer’s business card, and handed it over. “If you ever decide to do it,” he said hopefully (as if he were my savior).
The balls on this guy!, I thought to myself. He KNEW I was never going to leave my marriage. But more importantly — and maybe he didn’t quite realize this, though we’d been together for years — I certainly would never leave it FOR HIM. He was just my fuck buddy, my Boy Toy, despite his belief (or hope) that he meant much more to me.
I guess I never had the heart to tell him otherwise.
The balls on this guy! I told him he’d crossed a line, he had no right to talk about my marriage and our affair to a stranger, to inveigle himself into my life like that. I didn’t want to risk what we had by becoming visibly angry, but deep down I was fuming. I said nothing more the rest of the ride home. He thought he’d done something magnificent and praise-worthy. I thought it was incredibly invasive.
Once inside my door I immediately stuffed the business card into my paper shredder. His stunt was the beginning of the end for us.
Question: Did I overreact or did my Boy Toy step over the line?
A former mistress (26 years, on-and-off) describes the good, the bad, and the ugly of her long-term affair. Conclusion: Affairs aren't necessarily destructive if kept in the correct perspective. Our experience enhanced BOTH our marriages.
That is, until his marriage ended and we began to love each other. When the affair morphed into a relationship, well, that's when it stopped being fun for me. We have now irrevocably split.
Lately I've been writing about the man who took his place in the "off" years of that 26-year-long affair. He was a dynamic sexual partner but we, too, now have irrevocably split.
These are our stories.