Too much and not enough. Is there any such thing as a “Happy Medium?”
From 2002 to 2017 I was involved (off-and-on) with Boy Toy…..well, let’s just call him Brian.
Brian was a strangler, meaning his kind of love and attention was so stifling that at times I could hardly breathe. He loved too hard. He was possessive. He couldn’t get enough of me, struggling to make peace with the fact that I was married, had a life separate from our torrid affair, that I needed distance. I needed (indeed, wanted) him at arm’s length, yet he kept trying to reel me in with his over-the-top, lovey-dovey gestures. The tidal wave of cards and gifts nearly every time we met. The texts and emails that reached through my phone and Inbox and strangled me with affection. Even the goodbye kisses as we parted seemed to go on forever — “I just wanna get outta here!,” my mind was screaming.
No doubt, our sex was head-spinningly G-R-E-A-T. But it was his stifling attention that eventually turned me off; I began to pull back. I asked him many times to dial it down a notch or two, and he’d look like a sad puppy. Brian never understood that just a little of him goes a LONG way.
And weaving in and out of those years was B., …..well, let’s call him Bruce. Between 1987 and 2013 we carried on our decades-long affair — whenever Bruce and I waned, I’d take up with Brian, and vice-versa. It was always the two of them, vying for my attention…or my pussy. Brian, Bruce, Brian, Bruce….lather, rinse, repeat.
But Bruce was a different story. He was one for short, terse, even cryptic emails and texts (when he deigned to even send them), leaving me to decipher what he was actually trying to say. Despite our longevity, he hardly ever said he loved me. I received very few cards or letters from him, and he only thawed slightly in 2009 when he separated from his wife of 20+ years. Bruce was at times affectionate, but that affection came with distance. Only in bed did I ever see his thermostat go from cool to hot.
But his “love” was not enough. He never made me feel special, never made me feel as if I mattered in his life. And, just as with Brian, I began to pull away. He moved to Michigan (now divorced and living with the ugly Celtic witch he dumped me for) and left me behind, like an afterthought. I suppose that’s just what I was: his sexy afterthought.
For years I had John (Cougar) Mellencamp’s famous song in a tape-loop in my head: “I need a lover who won’t drive me crazy.” I wondered: IS there a “happy medium?”
Yes, there is. His name is….well, let’s call him Michael. He has been my lover since 2016.
Michael’s smart. He gets it. He gets ME: with all my baggage and foibles, with all the love, attention and affection I can shower upon him given my married and work life. We have wild sex. He is loving and attentive without choking the life out of me. He is both demonstrative and restrained. We spend just enough time together to keep things fresh and exciting. We have a lot in common. He IS the lover who “won’t drive me crazy.”
He is not too much. And he is enough. He is perfect.
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.