I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself fall in love again before getting divorced or at least separated.
I promised myself after the terrible heartbreak of losing K that I wouldn’t do that to myself again.
Last night M and myself broke up.
It’s the second time we broke up. But the first was after just a short time together. This second relationship was longer, more intense and ultimately we fell in love.
I never expected M to come into my life the way she did. She had already in my life for several years as a colleague but I never expected anything to happen. The type of woman I would never think I had a chance with. Stunning beautiful, 15 years younger, very religious, a workaholic … the difference between us are numerous. But so are the similarities and the need to have someone to share with.
It’s a relationship that offered me a welcome distraction from the drama and heartbreak. It gave me an immeasurable amount of confidence. Taught me control and to focus on priorities. And ultimately that’s why it fell apart. No matter how much we love and want one another, we both know a real relationship would never work under current circumstances. So we stopped before it got worse. Before the pain a breakup would bring became soul destroying. Priorities. I have mine. I need to care for my kids and do what needs to be done, to gain my freedom.
For now I feel like a caged animal. Living a pointless, empty life. Just filling the time with nothingness as father times clock ticks away. But those are my demons and my issues to deal with.
I vow I won’t let this happen again before I am in a position to love someone without boundaries … without restriction. Hopefully this time I can stick to this promise to myself …
13 months on I am still heartbroken about leaving K. But I can never return to her while I am still living with my wife. Replacing K is not what I want. I want K, the relationship we had and I never want the pain of heartbreak again. But it seems to be happening …
I have know M for years. An absolutely stunning lady, the type of woman everyone’s heads rise to when she walks over to the copier. We had worked in the same company but I had hardly ever spoken to her for more than a few minutes … then one day, one thing led to another and I am starting to forget K as my mind slowly gets consumed by thoughts of M.
Mutual friends would never put us together, hell not even complete strangers would. You see we are very different. Looks wise I am a realistic 6, she is an 8 pushing 9. I am 45, she is 29. I am an hard nosed atheist, politically apathetic, a parent, kinky and outgoing. M is very religious, interested in politics, long time single, vanilla and aloof.
We had a brief 2 month spell “together” at the tail end of last year. But she ended it. Like I said she is very religious and duly principled. Messing around with a married man was too big a hurdle for her to overcome. We kissed and made out for hours whenever we were together but never had sex. So we went our separate ways, before anyone got too hurt.
Several months later we were back in touch and now several months into our 2nd spell together little has changed. We go out (not daily or even weekly but regularly), we make out for hours and avoid the issue of sex. We still haven’t, which is something very unusual for me and the relationships I have had. Can I call it a relationship? It’s something, it’s more than just a friendship.
Whatever it is it works for us. We have each other. We both have very different but difficult issues in our lives to contend with. But in each other we have a companion (at arms length) to feel warm with.
I don’t want another relationship until I can get clear of my marriage. But I don’t want to give M up. All I am left with in that case is emptiness and loneliness. And I am not a complete idiot (naive and a dreamer, yes). I realise the chance of a future with M is very unlikely, for various reasons. And if I moved out tomorrow I need to go back to K. It will probably never happen with K again regardless but that is where my heart is.
Yet here I am sitting in a coffee shop in Old Str in London on my day off waiting for M. Wondering if this will ever turn into the relationship we want it to.
That Berlin trip
My dream come true
It was heaven for me
I hope it was similar for you
Waking up next to you day after day
Your beautiful face wrapped in white linen
It was so effortless, so right … perfection
A glimpse into a future life together
Hardly any sights taken in
Just us together wondering the streets
Enjoying just being a couple
Two lovers sharing everything
The laughter, the love, the sex, our souls united
No one will ever take that away from us
We discovered just how perfect we were together
No signs of the heartbreak that was to follow
Those memories that will never leave me
A city that will always scream your name
In these dark, sad, heartbreaking times apart
We will always have Berlin, my love
It’s such a common phrase from the mouths of the brokenhearted. Just the sad, broken-hearted, unrealistic words of a love struck fool?
Believing in “the one” is like believing in a higher being who controls the fate of one and all. Not for me, sorry I don’t buy either. There is no one person on the planet that’s a perfect match for you. There are thousands (even hundreds of thousands) of people with whom we match up really well with (some slightly better, some slightly worse). Chances of a perfect match are virtually impossible. And even if there were to be a few perfect matches on this planet, what are the chances you will find each other. Slim! Very slim!!
Yes, the chance of finding someone like the person you lost is virtually zero. But that’s not to say you can’t find someone even better for yourself. Someone who can take you to places you haven’t even imagined. Try telling that to someone who’s heart has been ravaged by the loss of a lover.
I really don’t think I will find someone like my lost love. The way different personality traits blended so well. Our tastes in sex, socialising, music, food … The way we pushed each others limits so well and the way that opened up new beautiful horizons to us both. It’s all gone now (except in the echos of memories) and it may be lost forever.
There could be someone even better matched around the corner but I know what I have lost and that is all I want!
Hollow … empty … soulless … aching … grief
Aimlessly … wandering … broken … hapless .. loser
Crying … endless … relentless … crushing … sorrow
Unable … unfocused … listless … fixated … wreck
Echoes … haunting … tortured … lesioned … memories
I’m lost without you now, why’d things go this way
A beautiful union broken, just the memories remain
Memories of times together, slowly fogging and drift away
The future I dream’t in tatters, those embers turned to ash
Life’s a dull grey hollow, daily tears feeding the sorrow
My broken heart won’t heal … but to heal is to forget so NO
I see you here, I see you there … heart and mind conspiring against me
A ghost reflection, a scent, a sound … senses that trigger pain, trigger you
Tossing and turning all night, tormented by lost love
Those restful nights beside you, fragmented echos now
Eyes I once lost myself in, awash with hurt and grief
Your tears now haunt me baby, can’t block that memory
I grew up in a big city in southern Africa. A quiet, shy kid but my early years were happy ones. Well mostly happy. When puberty hit and I started to become more aware of the opposite sex, my quiet and shy nature started working against me. I was never a confident child and that developed into a “sexual late bloomer”. First two sexual encounters were with sex workers at about 22. First girl I really kissed I ended up marrying. It was a fantastic relationship. A merging of two separate cultures, we embraced our differences and lived a happy life together. We struggled to have kids but they eventually came and just like London buses, 2 at the same time. A complete happy family. Except like with most families that look happy and all smiles on the outside, something darker hides behind the curtain.
Eight years into our relationship (the twins were a year old) I had a one night stand. It wasn’t accidental, I spent some time looking for it. It was fantastic and it ticked that box, it was a one off. That’s what I told myself at the time. But of course it wasn’t long before it happened again, and again and … It happened for this reason or that … whatever, it happened! No reason to make excuses, the facts are there, it became a pattern and is now imprinted on who I am. We are “defined” by our actions and I am ok with that. I now realise maybe married life wasn’t for me. But it felt right at the time, as did having children, so no need to dwell … deal with it. All this woulda, shoulda, coulda is pointless. Deal with it, your life is where it is, deal with the facts.
When I moved to London I befriended A who I opened up to and became an important friend to me. This was the first person I was truly honest with and it was such a relief opening up to someone about all this. Her advise to me at the time was spot on. “You have to make a choice, either way. But you can’t carry on doing this to your wife.” She also expressed that she didn’t feel comfortable being stuck in the middle, when she met my wife, knowing what she did. I think it was this, my indecisiveness with the whole situation and my continued behaviour, that eventually cost us our friendship. Were it not for this I don’t think we would have fallen out.
Some three years into London life and before any talk of divorce, I finally took that seemingly huge step into the world of kink. Getting the courage to get past the mental barrier was the huge step, actually stepping into that world was so easy. Super friendly people who are not judgmental, no matter what your background or what you were about. It felt so right … I was home.
I now know that I was virtually kinky from birth. Definitely kinky before I knew what kink was. I just knew a lot of my behavior was not “normal”.
I stepped into this world quite lightly and slowly met some people in it and eventually some play partners. One of these was K. K went on to become my regular play partner. It was initially just casual and “drama free”, something light and easy. She was getting divorced and was just months from finalising this. I was not honest with her and told her nothing about being married or having kids.
The day came when I had decided I was going to ask to divorce. I needed to approach this with carefully, my wife has a vicious temper and the kids futures also need to be considered.
In the week leading up to this day I went on a sexual “bender”. I slept with 5 different women that week. Two of those I felt I needed to be honest with. Most importantly K. I told her I hadn’t been honest and was married with kids and getting divorced. I fully expected this to be the final goodbye. I needed to focus on getting divorced and I expect a “goodbye, hope it works out, maybe next time try being honest from the start”. Instead she said she understood and it felt to good, lets just see what happens.
Our relationship grew and we both allowed ourselves to let our emotions flow. I never dreamt I would meet someone like this. We bounced off each other so well. Her submissiveness and my sadism flowed and intermingled so well. We spent as much time together as we could. Kink events, vanilla events, lunches, dinners, met some of each others friends. We fell deeply in love. Her divorce was dragging but that was ok, it gave me time to work on mine.
I should probably mention that I had been wanting to leave for years prior to taking that step. But she had given up her career to mind the kids and I couldn’t just abandon her. So I waited until she was back in stable employment before asking for a separation/divorce.
I asked for a divorce. My wife didn’t understand. Why? We have a perfect relationship. There is nothing wrong.
I didn’t tell her everything. I told her very little. Just enough to warrant a separation. I was stunned she was still happily in love, when I hadn’t felt that way for years. Many unhappy days followed … me waiting for the penny to drop … but it didn’t so I told her a little more about what had been going on. Anger… Shouting… Tears…
One day she came across a photo of me and K on a night out. I couldn’t say that’s the woman I am having a relationship with, so I said she was a work colleague who was part of the group that went out that night. For some idiotic reason I used her real name. There is something to learn here: A compulsive liar (which I was and am, although I am trying to correct this) will always interweave truth and lies. This is to prevent getting caught out. If I made up another name for her (say I called her Pam), if ever it came up and I couldn’t remember or called her Sarah instead, I would get caught out!
My relationship with K continued and grew. At the same time trying to find a way to maneuver my way out of my marriage.
Then came the day my wife found another series of photos of me and K. Under a barrage of questions, I eventually came out with it all (most of it anyway). The shit hit the fan. Rage… Tears… Death threats… Talk of suicide… I found myself agreeing to give the marriage one last try. Why? To calm the situation but my heart was not in it. But if I walked out now I feared the consequences. K’s divorce could not be compromised. I really didn’t know how far my wife could go, but I felt that K and her child could be in real physical danger. These were just some of the reasons but I knew I had to break it off with K. Gut instinct!
I met K a few days later and broke it off. The second I saw the huge tears falling from the eyes of the woman I love, my heart shattered. My hands started shaking uncontrollably. We sat together for several hours, not saying much, crying together, holding each other. I hadn’t ever broken up with anyone, I didn’t know what to do. I thought the best was to go hard breakup (no contact). So that’s what we did. Holy shit!! I had never dealt with real heartbreak either. I was a mess! I am a mess! 10 months on now it’s still crushing!
I continued trying to find a way to free myself from my marriage. I told my wife about the number of women I had been unfaithful with (25 or so) and alot of other shit. The shit I have gotten up to in my past will have most woman running for the hills. Not my wife, she just wants to keep it going and focused all her rage on K.
I never wanted to be doing this for the wrong reasons. And now that K wasn’t there I hopefully could deal with getting past this barrier. Hopefully she would be open to trying again when I did. Hopefully it could happen quickly, but it didn’t. I lost the woman I loved. I lost the life I loved. My life was misery!
My life took a dive. I put on weight and lost any drive I had. I had lost my job just before breaking up with K and had lost my mother too. But all I saw was heartbreak.
I tried to keep some sort of social life going. None of the events that would bring me into contact with K. That would crush me and that would not be fair on her. I also wasn’t interested in going to any. I want to go with K and until that becomes a possibility I will stay away. Anyway during this time a handful of months after the breakup M who I knew for a while but never gave myself a chance with showed some interest. A stunning young woman (vanilla but still) and fun to be around but my overriding drive to jump into another casual fling was the opportunity to get K off my wife’s radar. She was obsessed with K and if I gave her another target maybe she would “forget” about K. I had to protect K and her child.
So I started hanging out with M. Just casual and I was honest with her, so she knew I was just using her and my heart belonged to K. After 6 weeks M decided to call it quits.
This was the point I suddenly though, right this is it, you have to seize the opportunity, stop faffing and move the fuck out.
So in that week I found a place, took the day off work, packed and moved out. I waited for the kids and explained that I was moving out and why. We had already spoken to them about this so it wasn’t a huge shock. They understood but were obviously nervous for the future. I waited for my wife to get home to tell her face to face and then I could leave…
2 hours later my apartment was full of police and my wife was being led away in cuffs!
What followed was straight out of a soup opera … nothing I want to share at the moment, but lets say things got worse and everyday was torture.
I have had 2 very clear opportunities to leave (one just after the episode described above) but bottled them both. Why? I am so desperate for my freedom (it’s something I have wanted for so long) and I am even more desperate to have K back in my arms. I don’t love my wife but I care for her. This is insanely difficult on her. I don’t want any harm to come to her, even self inflicted. I want to make sure she is ok and have offered to basically pass on all our financial wealth over to her. I don’t care about looking down the barrel of financial ruin because I know I can sort myself out. i am fearless that way, always have been. But when both those opportunities to leave were presented to me they came with a barrage of rage, threats, sorrow and emotion and I just cave in.
So what we have is a life and marriage in limbo. A wife who will fight tooth and nail to keep it together. Children that need to be given the best life possible, irrespective of the situation we find ourselves in. And my heart is with a woman I haven’t seen in 10 months.