To Whom I belong

I made a poor judgement call.  I wanted to be cared for; I wanted someone who wanted me, who craved me, who adored me and put me up on a pedestal...
This person came to me in the form of an older guy in an open relationship with his girlfriend.  So I started to see him and everything was okay except, as I quickly realised, he wasn't in an open relationship... his girlfriend didn't know about me... he was having an affair and I was the other woman.

Though he wasn't my type and I had no interest in having a formal relationship with him I had grown fond of him as a friend... he clearly liked his girlfriend enough to stay with her... but he wouldn't tell her.

He liked me and wanted me and would tell me how much until 6:15pm everyday when she'd get home, then it was radio silence.  He'd see me right after she'd leave and would hide me from his neighbours... then turn around and give me money and gifts, cuddle up with me and watch house of cards, listen to me bemoan missing my ex and such.  I thought I could handle the secrecy and the lies... but it gnawed away at me and I grew to get upset with him for not being honourable and telling her, not for my sake or even his sake but for hers.

Finally I couldn't handle it.  I felt sick thinking about if his girlfriend even suspected.  I felt sick thinking that I was capable of knowingly doing this for my own selfish gain... I know what it's like to be with someone who is unfaithful... but at least I knew... she didn't even know!  He didn't even have the decency to look her in the eye and go "Honey, I've been seeing a girl and I still love you and I will do whatever it takes to make it right."  If he loved her she deserved to know at the very least.  Before I'd leave I'd try to leave clues, small things that maybe he wasn't being faithful to her... if he didn't have the balls to tell her, maybe she'd ask... I'd "accidentally" leave hair elastics on the bedside table or school notes under the couch, anything she might find out of place and ask him about.  I even started messaging him after he specifically would tell me that she was home and he needed to go.  She needed to know and she needed to know the sort of guy he was one way or another... I don't know if she ever found out or not.

Finally I gave him an ultimatum; either tell her and potentially keep me, or leave me be.  He chose to not tell her and try to keep me.  The final straw came when he decided to make me duck down in the backseat of his car so his neighbour wouldn't see me and then lectured me about me having no self-respect (because I let a photographer take artistic nudes of me [that turned out awesome!])... he also lectured me about how I devalue myself by letting men see me... and that I am his and no one else's... so I left.

He still tries to get a hold if me, but I can't be bothered playing his game.  He was right I needed to have some self-respect... and self-respect doesn't come from being the other woman... it comes from choosing not to be the other woman.

This poem is dedicated to Kevin, without whom I never would have written such a piece.