My lover tells me he loves me, but hes never chosen me.
Its been three years of this. Three years meeting in secret, three years of the same old promises, three years in a relationship that only exists when his wife isnt around.
I didnt step into his life knowing he was married. Only after a few months did I learn the truth that they still lived together like a regular couple. But by then, I was already caught up, my heart tangled beyond reason.
From the start, everything came with conditions. We only met on certain days, at fixed times, always in places where no one would recognise us. He never stayed over. Never went away with me. I couldnt post a single photo. Not even so much as a hint.
If I messaged him at night and he didnt reply, I knew why.
If he went quiet on weekends same story.
His real life was always somewhere else. Mine was made up of the bits he left behind.
Ive asked him, calmly and directly, whether hell leave his wife. Always the same answer yes, but not now. Hes waiting for the right moment; its not easy, things need sorting. She depends on him. He doesnt want to hurt her. Ive heard it so many times, Ive grown to hate the phrase. There was always a new excuse. A new deadline. Another sliver of hope dangled before me.
I was always the one who adjusted.
Juggling diaries. Cancelling plans. I learned not to ask too many questions, to keep peace. When he travelled with her, I kept silent. When they celebrated anniversaries, I pretended it didnt hurt. When he came to me after a row at home, I comforted him.
I was the one who listened.
Who understood.
Who waited.
Yet, I was never the one chosen.
There were times I was sure Id finally walk away. Once, he told me hed spoken to a solicitor. Again, I told him I wasnt happy. Again, I began looking for a flat. Again, I hoped. Again, I bet everything.
But then something would come up work, family, money, its not the right time.
And so I stayed. Suspended in a story that never moved forward.
Meanwhile, my reality crept on.
My friends are marrying. Moving. Planning lives.
I lied. Told them I was single, or seeing someone, nothing serious. I couldnt tell them the truth. I knew how it sounded, knew exactly what theyd say. Even so, I stayed. Not because I was naïve, but because I loved him. Or thought I did. Sometimes, Im not sure anymore.
The most painful part isnt that he never left her.
Its that he never stood by me.
If she even suspected, he would pull away.
If there was tension at home, Id vanish.
If he had to choose between looking at me or keeping up appearances for her, she always won.
I was never the choice.
I was the alternative. The one who could wait.
Im still with him now. But Im not the same anymore.
I want him, but Im tired.
Tired of understanding.
Tired of waiting.
Tired of living off scraps of time and affection.
I need advice, something to help me make a final decision.
Does this happen to anyone else?
What would you say to this woman if she were standing before you?
