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One day after work I was alone in a restaurant when I saw Aracelis (not her real name) as she congregated with a group of women at a bar table. She didn’t notice me as I walked past her but being a gentleman, I politely walked a considerable distance before discreetly surveying her from head to toe. I didn’t know how old she was but on first glance she looked old enough to be my mother.
Since I was an early thirty-something who just ended a long term relationship and had no inhibitions, as long as she was legal, age was but a number. The waitress conveniently seated me at a distant table where I had a clear view of her and her friends who were finally table-seated as well. After placing my order, I gave the waitress a hand-written note for the lady of my focus. In hindsight, I would have sent her a sip but since I do not drink I had no idea what to order anyhow.
Nonetheless, when she got the note and turned to see who sent it she blushed in awe as she succumbed to peer pressure from her friends to take me up on my offer. Like a high school girl she ran over to my table, we exchanged information and gave me a specific time to call her.
After I got home I checked my answering machine and noticed that she called. Although the number mirrored what was on the paper, a man’s name with a matching surname appeared on the caller ID. She called again and I picked up the phone and we were excited to talk to each other. In my moment of duh I may have concluded that it was either a son or other male relative’s number. Her first confession was that she was married with a family and that she was 15 years my senior. I questioned the logic of calling me from her home phone, but my loneliness and need for companionship overlapped my own common sense or respect for marriage. All that aside, I continued future conversations on her work or cell phone.
We went on a few dates, one of which she treated me at the same restaurant we met at and took intimate walks in the park. Most of our sexual encounters took place at my home or other places. Although I never felt ugly, throughout much of my dating life I felt inadequate because more often than not, I struck out on the dating scene. Especially after breaking up with my ex who often belittled and emasculated me, it was refreshing to be with someone who told me that I was handsome, listened patiently to my feelings, and complimented my creative writing. Likewise, I did the same for her as she discussed her dreams and her husband’s own infidelity, the latter by which I consciously justified my own indiscretions.
To cover her tracks she told her husband that I was the boyfriend of one of her coworkers and apparently played reverse psychology by telling him that he could have the cell phone back if he was going to keep tabs on her.
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She confided that she had at least two other affairs prior to me which told me that her actions were more adventure-based than that of a jilted wife. She was pretty and slightly chubby with a nice shape, but mysteriously thought that she was ugly when she was growing up. Since full and curvy were my favorites she was beautiful to me and on our meeting occasions I reminded her of such. Though she initially thought I was much younger I was actually her youngest and first African-American she was intimate with. At that moment I felt like Jackie Robinson in his ascension into the major leagues and circled the diamond at top speed.
With understandable awkwardness, she even endured war stories from my recently failed relationship. If it’s a valid excuse for my dating faux pas, most women that I’ve dated including my former girlfriend openly discussed exes which naively gave me the comfort level to do so with her. In hindsight, that’s probably why I was treated “like a brother” by women on some occasions.
Even though I declared that as a single man that was not ready for a commitment, it didn’t prevent deeper feelings to evolve between us. I had limited sexual encounters with other women during that period but when (upon her asking me) I revealed that most of them were with her exclusively, it most likely intensified her emotions for me. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear but, out of respect I felt a respectful obligation to tell the truth, which she subtly advised that women don’t always want to hear.
Even though I enjoyed her company, because of the dynamics of our relationship I limited the amount of phone conversations that we had to prevent her from getting deeper expectations which I was equally susceptible to developing myself. One day I had a previous obligation to attend a seminar and out of consideration I called Aracelis to postpone her visit to my home.
Instead of being understanding she assumed that I had a date with another woman and embarked on a jealous tirade, an instance that happened more than once. To offset the stress I politely ended the phone conversation only for her to leave me several voicemail messages venting her dismay, one of which was made from her home phone, followed by hand-written letters expressing her hurt and frustration. For the record, journaling is another thing that we had in common.
While resting at home one day I got another call from her home number. Thinking that it was her, I picked it up and said “Hello”. I’m paraphrasing the following agency but there was a short pause before an older male voice responded and asked, “Is this the Housing Department?” I politely responded, “No, sir you have the wrong number.” Bracing myself while detecting a husband’s intuition that is often undermined, I nervously predicted a follow-up question: “Are you f***ing my wife????” With an uncertain voice he replied, “Ok, thanks” and hung up the phone.
I later confronted Aracelis about that experience and she confirmed that her husband’s suspicions were aroused about her home and cell phone calls which were both under his name. To cover her tracks she told her husband that I was the boyfriend of one of her coworkers and apparently played reverse psychology by telling him that he could have the cell phone back if he was going to keep tabs on her.
Since some of her female cohorts witnessed our initial meeting I’m sure it was one of them that provided back-up. After this encounter one with common sense would assume that I had enough of my own to put an end to the affair at once, not only because she was married but also had a grown son. However, as much as I strived to be an early-life Playboy I wasn’t the debonair ladies’ man that knew all the right words to say and conquered every woman that I could to document my accomplishments, be it private or public.
Yes, I was handsome and single with no children, a clean bill of health, a good job with benefits, his own place, and a bank account – a combination of which most eligible women would fight for. Aracelis told me she would do the same if she were much younger. Nonetheless, I was a lonely man that took advantage of one of the few sexually gratifying opportunities that presented itself to him at the at the unfortunate expense of someone’s husband.
Though she was my longest and last, it was not my first season as a paramour because prior to her I have knowingly been intimate with women involved with other men for the same reasons.
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Selfishly desperate, I continued the affair for a few more months before getting involved in another serious relationship. I tried to set up a lunch date so I could tell her face-to-face that I was involved with someone new. Though I made no mention of such in our phone conversation, being an intuitive woman who doesn’t receive bad news well she detected my intentions and declined the meeting altogether. In her closing sentence and a letter following it, based on our verbal intimacy she wanted us to still communicate and remain friends. I actually entertained the prospect but later learned through wise counsel that based on our history, we could never truly be ‘friends’. According to me since my options were limited I set morality aside and took who was available to me.
Though unjust, it helps me understand why some of the most attractive and intelligent women reduce themselves to man-sharing. While society is more appeasing to the lighter gender I, personally do not buy into the theory of a ‘good man shortage’ for there is a global selection for everyone to choose from and sometimes it’s a matter of patience and introspection required to attract the right person that is destined to add a healthy balance to your life.
Hence, especially when we are young chronic loneliness induces desperation leading to decisions that jeopardizes emotions, families, health, spirituality, and possibly our own safety if an affair is discovered by the offended spouse. Though she was my longest and last, it was not my first season as a paramour because prior to her I have knowingly been intimate with women involved with other men for the same reasons. Regardless of the circumstances, I was totally wrong to do so and atoned to God for my own indiscretions.
As a Christian I am grateful that God has protected me from STDs and unplanned pregnancies that lead to parental drama for many of my brothers that traveled a path that I did not belong on. Especially after a major disagreement, even when there is no clear evidence to suspect the worst the past had a way of humbling my spirit in unsuspecting ways when I asked myself “She looks really nice. Is she really just going to the book club?” “Did she really spend the whole night at her cousin’s house when she went away?” “Is she really just reading in the bathroom for that long or is she……?”
You never really know what happens once someone’s door closes behind you. But even when you don’t dwell on the worst, you always remember what happened behind yours.
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Photo Credit: Getty Images