Letter to Fi

Fiona

I knew it was inevitable that we meet one day. It was unavoidable given I live just outside of Reigate and we go to the same gym. I knew it would probably be hard to meet you, although I never really knew how I would feel.

For such a long time you were not a real person. I tried not to think of you and when J mentioned you in conversation I was very quick to change the topic. Then came a time when I decided to face reality and made a conscious effort of asking about you, and not denying your existence. This in no way made things any easier emotionally, although it did at least get my unwilling heart to accept that no matter what happens you would always be married to J and all I would end up with is a broken heart.

Still you were not a real person.

I tried to convince myself that the thing with J was just sex. If it was just sex then it would be so much easier - not just because it would be easier to walk away from, but also because it would be easier to justify. That sounds weird doesn't it? But ultimately men will be men. You don't give him sex, he will go looking for it elsewhere. I fulfill a basic need, nothing more nothing less. This is the theory. And by golly I wish I could convince my heart and soul that it was just sex.

It is not. I am deeply in love with him. He is an amazing man. You are very very lucky to have him. He has made me want things I never really thought I wanted. Marriage, kids, a proper family. That is all very well and good, but I want those things with him. I cannot imagine them with any other man. I actually have fantasies about dating other blokes and still seeing him on the side as I quite literally cannot imagine my life without him.

It has to end sometime. I know this, I always have. In the very first conversation I had with him he told me that Catholics married for life, and he will always be married. He's never made me any promises, and I never had any expectations, but somehow this does not stop the heart from hoping for some miracle. Although frankly I don't know what that would entail. Not like you'd magically stop existing.

But I tried not to think about how it would end, or when or why. Head in sand mentality. I convinced myself that I was quite satisfied with the crumbs from your table. Because let's face it - you may only have sex once a month, but you still have the best of him. You wake up to him every morning. You get to hug him whenever you want. You get to listen to his boring football stories. You get to go on family days out with the kids to the pool. You play board games and say he gets sex if he wins (although that doesn't happen).

Yes, I spend lots of time with him at work. But it's hardly what you would call quality time. And sometimes he comes round mine, but it's a couple of hours at most. And it is so hard afterwards.

But yes, I convinced myself the arrangement suited me. Fairly regular sex with a man I adored until my Mr Right finally showed up.

And then I met you. In person. And it was harder than I could ever imagine. Not at the time though. When it happened I thought it was fine. I really did. But then with every passing day it just got harder. This is in large part due to not being at work. I have two weeks off to study for exams next week so I have a lot more time than normal to obsess and think, think and obsess.

You just seem like such a nice person. And no this does not really surprise me, I always suspected that you would be. But again, it suddenly just became real. And I watched you in the gym talking to J. I think if there was any sign of physical contact I would have thrown up, but there is undoubtedly a closeness between you that can only come from 14 years of marriage.

I asked J whether he thought it was weird introducing me to you. He said yes. He also said that if there was any chance of the two of us becoming friendly it would have to stop. I told him there is no chance of that happening. Although quite bizarrely I think we'd get on very well. I will not however try to create a friendship with you. That would just be the most horrible thing in the world.

I can't stop thinking about you. I feel physically sick most of the day. Yesterday the tears came, and it was like a flood. I don't know if the feelings are guilt or sorrow. Sorrow for what I can never have. Sorrow for a heart break just waiting to happen.

I am scared. I love J. I worry that I will never love another man in the same way. I worry that no man will ever make me feel loved in the same way. I am clinging on desperately because of this. The rational part of my brain, or what is left of it, knows I am just prolonging the inevitable, I will cause myself even more hurt and of course now that I have met you the risk of you finding out is just much higher.

I wish I was a stronger person than I am. I wish I could do the right thing and end it. But I can't.

So what is going to be the outcome of this? I really don't know. But I wish I could turn back time. When I started chatting to J and I realised (despite every fibre of my body wishing it was not so) that he was married I should have given myself a talking to and moved on.

I am sorry. Sorry for you. Sorry for myself. Mostly sorry for myself. Because as I said before - despite it all you still have the best of him. You will get to grow old with him. You will watch your children get married, have grandchildren together, retire together. I will not. I may never find the love of my life. Yes, I am only 30 but as you know, it just gets harder and harder from here. And quite frankly, the way I feel now I do not want to have anything to do with a man for a long long time.

I was hoping that writing this all down would help me feel better. Stop all the thoughts from spinning round and round in my head. But I don't think it has. My stomach is still in knots. Studying won't be very productive today either. But I don't care about exams at the moment. I just want to feel normal again.

But maybe I don't deserve to feel normal again. Maybe that is just my penance.

I will speak to you again soon Fiona. This is not the end of the saga, I just know it.

Bluebell