Monday, January 5, 2009

In Which I Am Ashamed

I've had this weighing on my mind for a while now, and I just can't take it any longer. It's like a dark cloud hovering over me, an oppression that keeps me from sleeping some nights for fear that my secret will inadvertently slip out of my mouth in mumbled tones. The amount of energy it takes to contain this is exhausting, and my endurance is wearing down, grinding on my sanity. 

I haven't found a way to tell The Boss yet, but I know that I'm only hurting her by keeping this a secret for so long. I've made it a point to sit her down tonight and confess everything, and I'm hoping she'll take it well. I've never done anything like this before, and I know it's going to hurt her in so many ways to hear this, but for the sake of our marriage, I need to come clean. You see...

... I'm having an affair.

It started a couple of months ago. 

When we first found each other online, I was intent on keeping our relationship platonic. After all, I am married, I am not a cheater, and I love my wife despite the fact that she punches me when I snore. We conversed via e-mail for a couple of weeks, and after a string of enticing conversations, we agreed to meet. I told myself that this would be a one-time thing, that I would satiate my emotional needs and be done with it. I meant for it to end there, but I didn't prove to be strong enough to do that.

I never expected to feel so good after being with her. I am ashamed to admit that I enjoyed the thrill of doing something I knew I wasn't supposed to do. We did nothing physical that first time, we just met up for drinks and light conversation. We spent a while staring at each other in silence, not sure of what to say. And yet, somehow, the act of just being near someone new made me crave more. There was this electricity... this spark in the air... I couldn't just let her go. Before we went our separate ways after our first rendezvous, I asked her if we could meet up again. She agreed.

We would meet up again four days later. 

On that day, I waited impatiently for her to arrive at our arranged spot. The anticipation was like a drug, and when I finally saw her, her scent... that sweet, alluring scent... it was intoxicating. I couldn't keep my hands off of her, and she didn't resist. I tore into her, and she into me, until there was nothing left. When I finally pulled away, I was exhausted, but satisfied. My mind, swimming and hazy with bliss, raced with thousands of different thoughts and a thousand different emotions. A fair amount of time passed until I could make any sense of them, and when I finally did, my heart was heavy. 

I knew what I was doing was wrong, but the connection I had with her was so strong! Each time we met she left me reeling. There was passion, there was energy, there was variety, there was suspense! It was new and exciting each time, and the more we saw of each other, the closer we became. Our visits ostensibly became more frequent, and consequently, more intense. I found myself lacking control over the situation, being fueled by a side of myself that I had never encountered before. There was no arguing with how I felt. I wanted her, I needed her, and there was not much the more sensible side of me could do to contest this. 

We continued to see each other a couple times a week in similar fashion, for three months.

Once we were three months into our secret relationship, I began to notice a change with her. When we were together, her behavior would sometimes get erratic, almost unhealthy. This happened on more than one occasion, and while I put up with it at first, it put a strain on us. Her addictive appeal was now irreparably tarnished, and she sensed that. We agreed to take a break, but on that drive home, remembering that look in her eyes as we parted, I realized that we had, instead, mutually agreed that it was over.

The full extent of what I had done didn't hit me until I arrived at home that night. The shame was staggering, and I could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. How could you do this? I constantly asked myself. I had worked up enough courage to talk to The Boss about it a dozen times after the affair was over, but could never bring myself to do it until now.

I feel I have the strength to tell The Boss about it now, because I received an e-mail from my other woman late in the night on New Year's Eve. It was apparent that she had been drinking, but even with her misspelled words and lack of punctuation, I realized she was right:

Deerr Michael
Itz ovurr beatween us Imm sorreey it had to ennd this way
Isle alwayz remembr u
luv










I'll always remember you, too, Little Debbie. 

Those three months of Fudge Round-Oatmeal Creme Pie-Swiss Roll-filled bliss were a great distraction and as close to Heaven on earth as I've ever been...

... But it had to end some time. 

18 Comments:

areason2write said...

Very good - the whole time I was reading this, I was waiting for the punch line. Very, very good. And whew!

Kat said...

For a min there I thought I was going to have to fly my happy ass to Maine and flog you with a wet noodle.

Cape Cod Gal said...

For a second, I thought you were cheating on me with Lola! Wheew!

Yes, Little Debbie and I have done the nasty a few times. It was my only brush with lesbianism. I love her double Oatmeal Creme Pies. I'm in therapy for it now.

gingermagnolia said...

I am SO glad that was a joke.

Sus said...

I don't know what I feel more. Relief that it was a joke or wanting to come kick your ass for making me almost think you would do something like that.

That was just plain mean.

Funny.

But mean.

splodge said...

You're SO BAD Badass, and you're getting badder!

Heather said...

Oh I've been Little Debbie's bitch many many times. This year, I'm going to try to kick the soda habit. It's gonna be hard, I'm a caffeine junky and I don't like coffee.

Jen W said...

My "significant other" has been someone called Fannie May. The mint meltaways are too enticing. But in 2009, I've decided to end it. :)

Lola said...

Man, I guess I was drunk when I sent that e-mail. I really don't remember writing that, but it was the right thing to do for both of us.

Oh, and I never did like being called Lil Deb ;)

Aunt Becky said...

She's obviously a flaming whore. JUST LOOK AT THAT LOOK ON HER FACE.

Miss Grace said...

I have an award waiting for you over at my place. Cheater ;)

enthalpymama said...

Hilarious! I caught you right away and snuck to the bottom. Sorry, I just couldn't believe it. But, I went back and read the whole thing because it made me laugh.

x said...

Why you gotta do Debbie like that?

Moonspun said...

Wasn't Lil Debbie jealous of the Metallica Whoopie Pies?
And let me guess, the Boss confessed that she'd too been having a similiar affair, but with Drake's yodels???

Tony said...

dude, that was good. at first I was like "huh? He can't really be having an affair" I was hooked, reading it with anticipation to the end - great post, man, great post.

Badass Geek said...

A Reason 2 Write: Sorry if I pulled your leg a little too hard.

Kat: No, but that sounds like fun anyways. When can you come over?

Cape Cod Gal: No, I wouldn't want to break your heart.

Ginger Magnolia: I'm glad you're glad.

Sus: Even if I did (which I never would, for penalty of death), I would never admit to it on my blog. It would be like blog-suicide.

Splodge: Just doin' what I can.

Heather: I've got the soda habit, too. It's a hard one to kick.

Jen W: It seems like that'd be the best for both of you.

Lola: It was fun while it lasted, right?

Aunt Becky: It is awfully smug, isn't it...

Miss Grace: Sweet. I'll drop by later.

Enthalpy Mama: I figured some people might do that... I'm glad I don't strike people as one to cheat!

X: Oh, don't worry. She liked it.

Moonspun: No, The Boss admitted to doing the nasty with Mr Peanut. I guess she likes 'em salty.

Tony: Glad I could fool ya, if only for a few minutes.

Debbie said...

My daddy told me that Little Debbie was name after me.

I used to think that was a good thing.

Now, I am afraid.

~Debbie

Badass Geek said...

Debbie: Yeah, I would be, too. Not of me, but in general.

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