On Being the Other Woman

Can I start with I'm sorry?

It's cliché but true. It WAS never supposed to happen.

I know he's yours.

And I know it's arrogant or naive for me to think that you aren't loving him very well and that I could do it better.

I also know that you're not loving him very well because you're likely burnt out from loving him too well for too long already.

I know how that feels. I'm sorry.

I know that it takes two to make a relationship work and two to make it fail.

I know that I only got his attention because he was looking to fill the hole that he felt like YOU were leaving. It wasn't supposed to be more than that.

I know that he'll choose you when it comes to it.

But I also know that now I see him in every dream I have at night.

I taste him in my morning coffee now too.

And I know that he smells me in his sweat from the gym.

I know that we gravitate towards one another like magnets, it's an uncontrollable reaction to the other's presence.

I know he was just supposed to be my rebound.

I think I was just supposed to be his band-aid.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I thought it wouldn't mean anything.

I'm sorry that I thought he'd lose interest in me and that you'd never know.

I'm sorry that I fell in love with him.

And I'm sorry that I don't want to give him back now that I have some of him.

I'm not sorry for every stolen moment of silence, or for every tender kiss.

And I'm not sorry for every time our eyes meet and he takes my breath away.

I'm not sorry that the feelings I have are real.

But I'm sorry for that too.

I'm sorry that I'm not sorry. I want you to know that I wish I was.

I wish it was just biological. Just infatuation and the rush of being hidden.

I wish I could tell you that I just had no self-control and it was only lustful passions.

And maybe at first it was, but even that I'm not so sure of.

I wish that I could chalk every poor choice up to it being exciting and fun, but the truth is - it's not.

It's real and I'm terrified of it.

I know he's yours, really,

But I think maybe I ended up becoming his without realizing it.

And I'm sorry. To both of us.