Tag: a dilemma

ode (or a dirge) to my lover

Don’t fall in love with me therein lies strife
just tarry awhile for some merriment
to take the edge off a creeping midlife
that seeks to undo without sentiment.
Were I to lose my heart o’er you don’t fret
I’ll never ask for yours at any rate
My fickle part will love and then beget
a bark to lie low in ‘til storms abate.

You’ve worked so hard to prove dependable
to the precious few who remain trusting.
Don’t give it all up for a fantasy
you know has not reliability
But stay on course remain unwavering
Your reward is in their love eternal.

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No, thank you.

Please read between the lines.  I declined your invitation but you came back with a revised offer.  I now have to figure out another way to say no without upsetting you too much but also to make it clear that I don’t want another date, ever.  According to Jules whom I met up to say goodbye to last weekend, ignoring text messages is not the done thing, cowardly and leaves him more upset.  I am a coward, I’d rather ignore the invitation but don’t want to upset anyone either.

Tristan:  Hi Ellie.  How’s your week so far?  Seems I have the house to myself this weekend from Friday to Sunday evening.  We should make some plans.  Fancy risking my cooking one of those nights?  You’re welcome to stay over if you like, too.

Me:  Hi Tristan.  My week has not been terribly eventful apart from catching a swarm of bees earlier in the week.  When I went to look in on them this morning I got stung as the weather has been rubbish and they must be quite hungry by now and cross about not being able to forage.  It’s most generous of you but I’m not sure if I am ready for this at the moment and will have to decline.

Tristan:  OK.  Sorry if I’m moving too fast.  Something more ordinary such as another dinner in the West End?  Sorry to hear about the ASBO bees.

Bucolia

Experiencing a lowering in libido I remained chaste in the week.  I blame the election result.  Since that party at Max’s which ended at 2am when we were left without doubt that the left-wing were not going to shine, although not quite anticipating the inglorious defeat, I had been struggling with my mojo.

My dates with Jan though, were notable in their increased frequency – three in the space of four days, the last even included a family outing with animals in a bucolic setting.  The first  occurred on Wednesday evening with a film and dinner, detailed in a previous blogpost.  Then on Friday evening he called suddenly to invite me up to his village for an impromptu drink at his local pub where he regaled me with tales of his dating capers.  The most recent involved a woman on the far side of the continent who would send him saucy pictures of herself posed on a bed, taken with the timer option on her smartphone hanging from a light fitting.  You couldn’t see her face but her body looked pretty amazing, smooth-bellied with sizeable knockers, long legs discreetly crossed and arms cradling her boobs to accentuate her cleavage.  Due to the time difference they would set up dates where she’d enter a cafe bar and set up her webcam to Skype him.  Their next scheduled event was the following morning when she might engage in some titillating banter leading to some mutually satisfying sex talk.

Yet he bemoaned the fact that this was a crazy woman and he couldn’t imagine anything permanent or long-lasting coming from it.  Not that he hadn’t had long distance relationships in the past, some of them lasting a reasonable length of time.  I couldn’t help but agree though that it did seem a little off the wall to consider yourselves being in a relationship when you hadn’t even met, Skype sex being the most intimate thing you might have enjoyed.  He said that she would pout and appear jealous about his other real dates in the real world.  I wondered why he didn’t just fly out to Japan to meet this nymphet but perhaps some self preserving instinct was cautioning him against a potentially destructive move.

We went back to his after our meal and sat on his old sofa in his recently renovated living room.  It already had a lived in look with children’s electronic charging devices and miniature combat figures strewn next to the TV, along with a few chocolate bar and snack wrappers scrunched into the sides of the sofa.  Towards the witching hour I had to decide whether I might be staying the night or driving home.  Jan put his arm round my shoulders and leaned closer and we kissed.  I was reminded of the scene in Back to the Future when Lorraine Baines kisses Marty McFly, her own son from the future and her recoil of disbelieving horror.  I don’t, of course, recoil or repeat her line  – This is all wrong. I don’t know what it is. But when I kiss you, it’s like I’m kissing… my brother.    But it certainly helped me make up my mind.  We said our good byes and I drove home virtue intact.  He’d urged me to text him when I arrived home and I did but didn’t get a reply.

The following morning he texted back – was asleep!  Fat lot of use he’d be if I’d had a puncture or other mishap.  I told him as much and we settled into the all too familiar banter of old friends.  He brought his children round in the afternoon and our two families met for the first time.  It was pleasant and uncomplicated and I invited him to join me on a holiday some time next month.  He said he would think about it and let me know whether he was able to schedule a break round his work and domestic commitments.  And so we parted again in good cheer.

Playing at being “the other woman”

I hated her when I discovered my husband had a girlfriend – a slip of a thing closer in age to our daughter than to him.  I used to plot murder and other dark deeds, but in the end my therapist persuaded me that living a good life would be my best revenge. So I went against my divorce lawyer’s advice and left the matrimonial home – it probably cost me financially  but I achieved a peace of mind I had lost when the trollop crept into our lives. It’s taken fifteen years for things to come full circle.
A few days ago, I became “the other woman” to the long term girlfriend of one of my lovers.  I think  Douglas rather enjoys the thrill of sneaking around.  When I first met him he said that he was single and then after a few more dates it transpired that his love life was rather  more complicated – he had been married for about fifteen years, his wife the only person he had ever had sex with and then the marriage, which was mainly an intellectual meeting of minds, less one of physical pleasure, unravelled when she began an affair with someone at work, a man who was able to give her the attention she needed.  He had left and begun dating and sleeping with every woman he met online, making up for all the lost years not sowing wild oats until eventually he was seeing a woman he’d met when on a business trip.  What started as a casual affair became a regular long term liaison, meeting when she was in London or he in her city.  He had tried to hint that he was still dating others but it had pained her to hear it and so he became complicit in her fantasy that they were in an exclusive relationship.
The other night when D came round he revealed that this girlfriend was now putting pressure on him to divorce his wife and marry her, either for him to move to be with her or she was quite willing to move down to London.

He went up to Cambridge to visit her one weekend and mid-visit sent me a text to say that the situation was now quite desperate, with her not being able to bear letting him return to London unless he promised to divorce his wife.  We were supposed to have met up for a date that evening, but in the circumstances he was unable to without worrying that she might hurt herself.  I murmured my sympathies, assured him that he was doing the right thing staying in Cambridge and then thought nothing more of it.

In fact, I had been a little relieved at not having to entertain Douglas.  When we had arranged to see each other the last few times I had found him getting more extreme in his demands.  Early on when we first met I had been full of adventurous zeal so that when he asked me I’d told him that I was up for trying anything at least once and believed I could be quite filthy.  The sex became kinkier and kinkier until recently I was beginning to dread rather than look forward to his visits.  I was going to tell him that I was at my limit of what I was willing to try and it did make me consider that question I’d been avoiding all the while – what did I really want?
Later that day, he rang to apologise again.
So sorry. I can only speak for a bit as her sister has come over and I popped out to get some milk and tea things.
I felt like a real bit on the side then and it amused me because this was so far from the reality of the situation.  I had only been dating Douglas this spring and although I found him attractive, kind and intelligent, I was under no illusion that this was only a fling for him – his domestic situation was such a car crash of unresolved drama I could not even imagine being part of his world.  The sex had been fun though occasionally dark, and I could just as easily do without it.
He texted me again at teatime. No doubt he had managed to sneak out under some other pretext.
Hope you managed to find a replacement and won’t be too lonely tonight?
It so happened that Liam was back from his break in Portugal with the lads and eager to meet up for some female company. I assured Douglas that I wasn’t short of male company but even if I’d been alone I would have coped. Some imp made me text him an invitation to join us for a threesome. I was certain though that this would not have happened.
When Liam came round we spent a good hour and a half simply catching up on news, finishing a bottle of tempranillo he’d brought back from his holiday. My heart wasn’t really into having him stay the night however, and pleading family engagements that I couldn’t avoid the following morning, he took my hint and left around two in the morning.   We had a comfortable relationship, Liam and I; he was the one I’d been seeing since last November/December and we were fairly honest with each other.  We made a date to meet up again mid week before he left and I wondered how Douglas was getting on with his girlfriend.

 

It wasn’t the way I’d like to conduct a relationship, sneaking around and being the reason for anyone’s unsettled feelings – having been there before, the one with the trust issues, I knew that it wasn’t entirely the fault of the other woman.  In all my liaisons I can honestly say that I had not actually sought out any of these men.  It was true that some of them I’d got quite fond of, D being one of these despite his kinky nature.  Now with the realisation that he wasn’t so constant in his dealings, my brain cautioned my heart to be wary. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at how the relationship had turned out.  What was I hoping to find?