I broke up with Boy Toy about this time last year. (Truth told, I broke up with him — or he with me — numerous times over the years.) On one of those breakups, in April 2017, I sent him this email to call it “quits.” I wanted it to sting:
Now that we’ve probably had our final fight (or “tiff” as you call them), now’s about as good a time as any to finally tell you this:
I NEVER loved you. Not the past three years, not in any prior iteration, either.
To me you were just a “Boy Toy,” something to play with. Good sex, a nice friendship, and that’s about it. I was never all that much into you. The last three years of your lovely-dovey/puppy-lovestruck ways were a constant, stifling turn-off.
I said “the L word” solely to keep you around. Faked it. Faked a few things, come to think of it.
You actually held out some small hope that I might leave my husband. Let me assure you: I might leave my husband for another man, but never, *EVER* would I leave my husband for you. We fight too much, we are so different in so many ways, we have always been like oil and water.
Here’s another revelation: That overnight we spent downtown last May? I gave that to you for Christmas never thinking I’d actually “have” to cash it in. I went through the motions of having sex with you counting the hours til we’d have to part ways the next day. That might sound harsh, but I finally feel free to tell you the truth. I couldn’t wait for the night to be over. You were just too over-the-top.
I’m no Taylor Swift fan, but she does have a good line in one of her hit songs: “We are never, ever, ever getting back together.” I am at peace with that, and happy for it.
It’s about time that you take down that “altar” of yours (if you haven’t already) you know, the empty Ben and Jerry carton, the cup from Tom + Chee, the Godzilla guy, etc. etc. …. the detritus of our failed “relationship.” Hopefully when you move you’ll toss all that crap out. It is meaningless.
Have fun on the roller-coaster ride that is K. You are so desperate for affection and attention that you turn a blind eye to her craziness. But mark my words: SHE IS BAAAAAAD NEWS.
He replied with a resigned voicemail the next morning to my “mean, hateful email:”
“…That is as low as anyone could ever go. Thanks for the super punch to the stomach and I got virtually no sleep last night. That hurt like you cannot believe and I know you meant every fuckin’ word of it and you accomplished exactly what you set out to do. So fuck you for that and I hope I never, ever run into you again.”
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Well, not really. We made up and fought and broke up and made up and fought for several more months. That is the power of great sex: it clouds one’s judgement. He continued to cheat on his girlfriend, Kooky Girl, as I continued to cheat on my husband. I re-sent him this email for his birthday last year — which is coincidentally Christmas Eve — and this time it is officially O-V-E-R. No need to send it to him again.
I think he finally got the message.
Categories: Affair Affairs Betrayal Break-ups Email Infidelity Memories Relationships Sex Truth
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.