Running into the arms of another

The weekend started off perfectly with a sexy invitation for a get-a-way in a semi remote, yet very public past-Olympic location.  I drove for my secret rendezvous after work on Friday and made it in time to get him out of the hotel room and into the locker room for the second game of his tournament.  Then watched with pride from the bleachers at the man I would be spending the night with as he did his thing. 

That evening was an interesting dance of calculated missteps - bypassing teammates in a gentle game of chess.  Or, Russian Roulette.  Because as I am so often reminded, he's married. 

I used to get upset when I saw his looking over my shoulder, or turning his back to me at the bar, or walking behind/in front of me.  Now, almost 4 years later, it's par for the course.  I've grown used to the disassociation and sadly, it just doesn't bother me anymore.  I play the part well - if he spots someone he knows, I slip out sight unseen and wait for him to tell me its safe again.  Or, I turn my chair around and strike up a conversation with whatever person(s) may be on the other side of me.  In fact, I did it so well on Friday night that even he was amazed at my seamless transition into the crowd (and the fact that I was "hiding" under his nose). 

It's a sad existence.

I deserve better.

I know this.  I deserve someone who will take me out and WANT to be seen with me.  Someone who's hand I can hold ANYWHERE. 

Being so good at the Houdini act leads to stress elsewhere.  That stress comes out when I am drunk.  I have moments of Jekyll and Hyde, when one minute I am all fine and dandy and the next minute I am asking him "Do you love me?"  It rains on the entire parade because he never answers that question anymore and then I start to get tears in eyes, which I try to promptly hide.  The mental damage inside of me is already done.

This behavior came out on Saturday night around 4am, only this time I couldn't hold back the tears, much less hide them.  It caused a blow up.  He told me to leave.  I gathered my things, then said I needed to go for a walk.  He laughed at me, rolled over and turned his back to me and started to snore.  I left for my walk, but really just went in search for a cigarette.  I was angry, embarrassed and humiliated. 

Walking down the halls of the hotel, which was teaming with athletes even at 4am, I came across a group of guys chatting.  They saw me coming and stopped talking.  I must've looked a hot mess - hair all tangled, eyes red and searching for a smoke like a frickin crack whore!  Luckily, they took pity on me and one of them went into the room, coming out with two cigarettes and his arm for me to hold as he ushered me outside to the carport.

We sat talking and smoking for a couple of minutes.  I became a blabbering fool and basically spilled the beans on not only the evening, but the entire situation.  He played the game and told me that I deserve better.  That I'm beautiful.  That my hair smells amazing.  He touched my knee and leaned in to kiss me.  I let him and one-upped him by pulling him closer to me.  He took me inside and we found a dark corner right outside of the lobby and made out for about a half an hour.  I know that he saw me as a vulnerable female - as someone he could probably fuck very easily - but at that moment, I needed what he was giving me...knowing it would go no further.

I placed my hand on his cheek, wished him luck in his medal game (in 4 hours!) and walked away. 

I ran some lotion through my hair, got naked and slid into bed.  I wrapped myself around the man I have been hoping would choose me.  I suspect he knew I had returned and was making a point to be "asleep."  Luckily, slumber took me away without a hassle. 

Waking up the next morning I realized that at some point during the night (morning?) I had removed myself from him and was teetering on the edge of the mattress.  Scooting over woke him and the whole argument started again, only this time I was lost to the specifics and couldn't even get my point across.  Then he said the words "I think this has run its course." 

Run its course.  Thrown out like used garbage.  His decision. 

You know what makes me emotional as I type this?  He said the words so easily.  He had the same tone and ease as if he was saying "I feel like eggs for breakfast."  The past four years, the sacrifices I've made to keep this relationship secret, the stock pile of his favorite beer at my house, the daily and nightly phone calls, the hundreds of thousands of texts, the saving him from his drunkenness, the love I gave him without the expectation of return because of the circumstance...nothing mattered.

I watched him pack up his belongings for the trip home in silence with even more tears streaming down my face.  (When will those dry up, BTW?) 

I tried to hug him.  It wasn't returned. 

Used.  Vulnerable.  Broken.  All words to describe me right at this very moment. 

Can I continue on without him?  Yes.  Yes, I can.  I'm sure that I will land on my feet - and hell, I've been dating for the entire length of our relationship...but he has been my rock.  I really thought that I held a place in his heart, but I think the realization that I never did is finally hitting me.