For a night

He was mine first. A few great dates - circumstances and timing made a relationship impossible. He was so sad and he gently let me down, explained life was too much and the end of his marriage too raw. He was kind, even in the depths of his own sadness he was kind to me; tried to guard my heart, which is permanently on my sleeve. He was respectful and he didn’t tell me one single lie.

We kept in touch, he became a friend. Messages every so often. I checked in until he was well and in a better place. He thanked me for being kind and we shared snippets of our lives in short chat bursts exclusively on the phone screen. We never spoke on the phone and we didn’t meet in person. I’d see his pictures on social media, he’d see mine and we’d celebrate the wins with little messages, a “well done, you rock”.

I met someone else, he was happy for me. I had a bad accident, sustained a life changing injury, he checked in until I was all better and was light relief in a stormy time. A man who always messaged back, who provided just what I needed.

Fast forward 5 years from when we first met: I am now newly single. He has a girlfriend. They have children (not together - a blended family who for the last 3 years have spent 3 nights a week as one). What was love is now complacency - she has no clue, she’s done nothing wrong - just gotten comfortable. He’s resentful of the rut they find themselves in. She is as she has always been and it’s not enough for him. He has grown and she has not.

He’s tall and handsome, smiles with his eyes, makes me laugh - he’s done that for 5 years. The thought of him has always made me smile. I couldn't stop thinking about him and then he messaged. I was honest: I told him I didn’t want to be in a relationship, I wanted to see him, face to face.

Privately I knew I wanted to see if he still desired me, if he’d hold my hand, make me laugh, kiss the crinkle that appears on the bridge of my nose that he’d previously said was “adorable”.

He hugged me hello and I didn’t want to let go. We had dinner and then I took him home. I laid in his arms and he kissed me. Soft music playing as this giant of a man revealed he has the softest of touches. It felt like the most natural thing in the world; like he was where he was supposed to be - where he should have been all of those years ago.

It wasn’t awkward. We laughed and joked when we were back downstairs and I waved him off happily back to his life.

I won’t have him again, I refuse to be his “other” woman. I wanted him, so I took him for a night. I don’t feel bad, I am not sorry.