I have two or three posts that I'm planning to write, that come before this one chronologically. But I haven't been able to get them written yet, and I want to write this one while it is still comparatively fresh in my mind. Besides, you guys are smart ... you can figure it out.
Last week I had to travel to another city on business. I was going to be gone the whole week, and in past years I would have planned to arrive Sunday night, thus maximizing the amount of the weekend I could spend at home. But that was before D. This time, we agreed that it would be great to have an uninterrupted weekend together; so I arrived Friday night instead, just a few minutes before she arrived at the same airport. (Ironically, this was even a cost-savings to my company; the Friday flight was so much cheaper than the Sunday flight that the savings fully covered the two extra nights in the hotel, and then some.)
Whenever we are apart for long periods, I forget how much I miss being with her; then we meet again, and we can't stop holding each other, and kissing. I'm sure the airport staff was thinking "For Pete's sake, get a room!" And so we did.
Saturday and Sunday, we stayed in bed late -- talking, fucking, and eating breakfast -- until somewhere around noon. Then we went out, strolled around town for a while, found a place to eat, and then strolled some more -- still talking all the while. Monday, I went to work while D visited a childhood friend of hers who lives in the town where we were. And Tuesday she left.
A couple of stories.
The whole weekend long, there were large groups in the hotel. They might have been graduation parties, though they were more likely wedding parties since we often saw bunches of young guys together wearing (for example) identical formal clothes and pink ties. So when we left our room Saturday morning, there was a group of young guys (looking like frat boys) in pink ties congregating in the hallway just across from us. As D and I got into the elevator, she started laughing. She laughed all the way to the car, when I finally got her to tell me what was so funny.
Well, it's like this. We had woken up a little after six that morning, and we left the room something like 11:30. Part of that time had gone to eating breakfast, but most of it ... er, well ... hadn't. And during most of that time, D had been pretty ... ummm, ... vocal. Her sighing and moaning had gotten quite loud on occasion, and we had actually wondered if anybody could hear us. We also wondered if anybody who could hear us had noticed that the sound had gone on, with interruptions, for something close to five hours.
Apparently one of the frat boys in the pink ties had noticed. And so when our door opened, he stole a quick look in our direction to see who was the sexpot who had been moaning all morning. D tells me that when he saw her -- with demure clothes, silver hair, and lines on her face befitting her 55 years -- Frat Boy's jaw dropped almost to the floor. Not to be outdone, she stared at the case of light beer he was lugging behind him, shook her head, and gave him her most matronly look of disapproving scorn. And she held that look all the way to the elevator ... whereupon she dissolved into helpless giggles.
Monday, as I mentioned, D went to visit a dear friend she has known since she was 12. She had a great time, but found that it was impossible to preserve her silence about me and our affair. In fact, when she called the night before to see if her friend was going to be available, she had to say, "I know you are a friend of my husband too, but you cannot let him know I am in town. If he ever asks, you have got to say that as far as you know, I'm in the same town where I live and work." Of course the very first question after a warning like that is always Why? And that is how D, who has been scrupulously careful about not telling anybody about us, came to tell her friend.
Her friend was very supportive, but she did have some questions:
Why exactly are you cheating on your husband? Has he cheated on you?
No.
Has he mistreated you in some other way?
No.
Well does he know about it, then? Is this something he is OK with?
Certainly not.
What about Hosea? You tell me that you and your husband will be divorcing ... is Hosea leaving his wife?
No, never.
Well then, does his wife know about it?
I'm sure she doesn't.
How do you know?
I talk to her on the phone almost every day. I'm one of her best friends.
But she doesn't know?
No.
If Hosea isn't leaving his wife, and if she doesn't know about your affair and therefore isn't making time for him to see you, then where does this leave you?
It leaves me seeing him a few times a year, when he can get away from the house and make a plausible excuse.
That's all?
That's all.
And that's OK with you?
No, but it's worth it.
D? You know I'm your friend, and you know I'll stand by you through anything. But I guess I'm having trouble understanding this. After everything you've told me, I just don't see how you justify this affair ....
I don't. Honestly, there is nothing that can make it right. I could sit here and tell you all about Hosea, and it still wouldn't make it right. But I am so in love with him that I have to make do without insisting on being right ....
__________
And you know? That's kind of flattering to hear ....
It was wonderful to see D for a few days; the talk was insightful and the sex was fantastic. And every date makes me fall farther in love with her. Now if only I knew when we will manage number six.
The Nibelung’s Ring: The Valkyrie 1
1 day ago
3 comments:
So, was D's disappointing look at the frat boy because he was carrying beer? Or because he was carrying cheap, wussy, 'lite' beer? ;)
I'm glad D has a friend to confide in. We all know how helpful the blog community can be for us in that regard.
I will admit, of her friend's reactions the only issue that confounds me is her friendship with Wife. It is a line I myself could not cross. And you know there are not many such lines.
(Kyra, you're so funny. I too was wondering that!)
What a great weekend! I envy ...
It's deep within our culture to "justify" one's actions. Most of us feel some need to provide an answer to "Why did you do that?" Infidelity bloggers fall into various camps on this front, but I'm most comfortable with those who make no attempt to do so.
The transparent rationalizations are less helpful than simply saying, "Because I wanted to" or even "needed to."
So I'm with D. Thank you for another perceptive and fun post.
Kyra -- I think D's scowl at Frat Boy was for a couple of reasons: first, as a kind of one-ups-manship in return for his astonishment that a woman in her fifties could still enjoy sex so much; second, that he made himself look like ... well, ... such a Frat Boy. The beer was, as you say, cheap, wussy, 'lite' beer; and he was lugging a whole case of it. Nor did she have any illusions that this was the only beer for the party he was going to. D has no objections to alcohol as such -- if we have wine with dinner we regularly finish off a bottle between us without batting an eye. But she makes a point of drinking good stuff, and not swill. There's no way that 'lite' beer would cut it with her, ... especially not in frat-party quantities ....
I'm not sure I captured D's conversation with her friend exactly. Of course I wasn't there, and it is obviously only a stylized conversation. But there were also several days between when D told me about it and when I wrote anything down; so I had to rely on my memory of the general sense of it. But I think your comment was directed more at the simple fact of D's friendship with Wife and less at the conversation itself.
Apollo -- I agree too that the simplest, cleanest, and most honest thing to do is not to try to spin a rationalization. I also agree that the impulse to spin one anyway is really, really powerful and hard to resist.
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