I know what I’m doing is wrong and that I’ve finally turned into a “statistic” but I feel like I can’t help myself. I’m your average, middle class, married working woman, two kids, nice house, church going, supportive family. Everything that should make me a “good” person. Here I am in the midst of a tumultuous affair with my next-door neighbor. Let me go back to the beginning…
I’ve been a good wife for the most part these past 10 years. Our marriage was never anything exciting but it was comfortable, solid, something I decided I just needed to be happy with. I never strayed all these years, though more than once I considered having an affair usually out of anger or frustration. Several jobs, two houses, and two kids later here we are at present day.
HE’s been there, lurking in my vision for quite a while now. Always a neighbor, never even allowing myself to think of crossing the line. Then this summer things changed, the world shifted. Suddenly I found myself flirting with him, albeit casually.
We live next door to each other and are the “outside” parents – the ones who are always outside with the kids, playing, laughing, and being the “fun” parent when we can. A little banter here, a little banter there. Suddenly I was in a whirlwind of having a crush on HIM. It was fun, harmless I told myself. But I found myself checking out the window to see if he and his kids were outside a little more frequently. My ears perked up at the sound of his truck coming home. I found excuses to be outside more and more and more.
I caught myself thinking about him here and there, imagining what a kiss would feel like, fantasizing about being wrapped in his arms.. Then that fateful night came. A neighborhood party. We hung out for hours, totally PG flirting. HE confessed HE wasn’t happily married. I could feel the tension between us. The interest. The desire. We finally walked back home and I wanted HIM to kiss me. It didn’t happen though we had some intense eye contact for a while.
Then two days later, a shot that rocked my world. HE was there. Just through Facebook at first. Sending an encouraging message, letting me know HE was thinking of me. One fateful day he popped up in a chat box on Facebook. I was sad and teary but he managed to make me laugh. Playing a chat version of 20 questions turned into him making a quick trip over to see me. The first time we had so obviously sought each other out. So friendly and neighborly. Numbers were exchanged and a few friendly phone calls followed.
A few days later, I was doing my best to put my life back together and a rare warm late fall day we got to be outside for hours with the kids. Flirting was rampant though kept in check due to the presence of both our spouses. In an opportune moment, HE leaned over and whispered HIS email address to me and asked me to email HIM the next day.
Our work email exchange was/is ridiculous. Sometimes as many as 50 emails back and forth a day. Pushing for more information, teasing, flirting, challenging me. I had the opportunity to be home early one day and let HIM know. HE came over to “talk.” I was a nervous schoolgirl. Couldn’t hardly look HIM in the eye. Things got close, intense. HE said I had to make the first move; I started to and then hesitated. He pulled back. A moment later, HE dove in. The most amazing kissing of my life. All the while, I was thinking, “I am breaking my marriage vows right here in my own kitchen with my next door neighbor. Seriously? This is my life?”
More phone calls and emails. Such chemistry. A few days later things progressed. I stopped just in the nick of time. Who am I doing this? On my own couch with my own neighbor? More days passed. Hundreds of emails, more than a few phone calls. It was time to piss or get off the pot. I got off the pot. We started having sex – in MY bed – on a fairly regular basis. Whenever we could meet up and it was relatively “safe” from discovery. The physical chemistry is just overwhelming. He’s so appealing to me even though this is crazy and messed up.
Almost three months later, I’m obsessed, wrapped up in a web of mixed emotions. I long to be with him but know it’s virtually impossible. Relationship with husband is seriously on the rocks and essentially over. All that’s left is for me to tell him it’s officially over. Know I’m hurting him but feel like I can’t imagine a life with us together ever again. As much as I try not to think of a “future” with HIM, it’s getting harder by the day.
We avoid talking about feelings other than to tease each other. We both have said we’re crazy for each other. My marriage is/will be ending soon. Not so sure about his. Life is complicated. Now the question is, will I be happy being the other woman in his life if he decides he can’t leave yet?