I came across an interesting post a few weeks ago. It was entitled, “What Love Looks Like When Your Boyfriend Has a Wife.” I was going to entitle my own post, “When Your Boyfriend Has a Wife… You’re a Whore” but I’ve already been called bitter and angry this week so I thought I’d let everyone fill in their own ending to that title.
It’s a letter from an unrepetant mistress who writes a letter to the wife, explaining why she couldn’t stop having sex with her husband. Because love, people!
Let’s take a look, shall we?
To my boyfriend’s wife,
I know you know who I am, there’s no need for introductions. I didn’t know of you at first, and if I had, I probably wouldn’t be sitting in a coffee shop writing you this letter. As I sip my macchiato and think back over the past year, I’m yelling at myself. I can’t start this letter with lies. I have to be truthful, you deserve that. I didn’t want to know about you, I didn’t want to think there was someone in his life, therefore, I didn’t ask, I didn’t do my research. I just assumed, and you know what they say about assumptions.
Oooohhhh, she’s so sophisticated. She’s drinking a macchiato at the coffee shop! No McDonald’s coffee for her! No running around in the minivan, taking kids to soccer or piano. She’s a high maintenance, sophisticated kind of gal. The kind of gal that sits around in coffee shops, writing her opus as she sips her frothy beverage. The kind of gal that knows just because a man is married doesn’t mean he’s off limits. The kind of gal that pours her heart out to her married “boyfriend’s” wife and actually thinks she’s the poor, heartbroken victim in all of this.
I remember the night I really found out about you, he came home with me and we were getting ready for bed at 3am after a long night out, I saw his phone ring. He didn’t hide it, he didn’t lie, but we both knew we were already in too deep and at that moment it didn’t matter to either of us. He hit ignore and turned his phone over, and I knew in that moment that I didn’t want to know. Ignorance was my bliss.
Who is this guy that it’s normal for him to be out until 3 am without a word from his wife? You might want to rethink this whole love affair with this guy because he doesn’t strike me as the faithful type. I realize you think you’re super special and he won’t be out until 3 am when you’re the main squeeze but you’re not, and he will.
When you realized he was married that was your chance to do the right thing and leave. You weren’t ignorant. You just ignored the fact he was married. It wasn’t convenient for you so you chose to go with the ol’ “Ignorance is bliss,” defense. Only you were fully complicit.
I don’t know you, I only know what I see online, what I’ve been told and trust me, I know there’s three sides to every story. I do know that you and I are very different, that much is very clear. I know how much you hate me, I’ve seen the texts you send him about me. I don’t blame you, I would hate me too, and sometimes I do. You know just how to hurt him and you do it so effortlessly. Sometimes I think you gain pleasure by it, like it’s your way of getting even with him, and there’s been so many times I wanted to call you and just say STOP!
Stop hurting him, start working on your marriage if you want it to work. But who would listen to me, I’m the reason you’re fighting. I’m the reason you feel insecure, and can’t move forward, and for that I am sorry.
Let me get this straight. You are fucking her husband. It seems pretty apparent that her husband is not trying to hide his affair from her at all. And you’re going to lecture her on hurting him?
Hey! Do you know Cousinfucker? You two would get along fantastically. He lied, cheated, moved across the country and then took off out of the state but he acts like he’s the victim and he’s got a whole passel of idiots following behind him, nodding their heads as they jabber, “Yep, yep, yep. She’s a bitch. You’re the one that really suffered.”
Let me school you right here and now. There is no working on the marriage when he’s fucking another woman so save your lecture. Why don’t you tell him to save his marriage? He could begin by getting his dick out of you.
Believe me when I say that the pain she is supposedly causing him is nothing compared to the pain of realizing that the person you thought had your back, the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, has cruelly betrayed you and is replacing you with another person. It sucks!
You must feel so powerful and mighty! So central to everything. I’m the reason you’re fighting, the reason you can’t move forward, the reason you feel insecure. And I want you to know I’m sorry. But not sorry enough to actually stop what I’m doing. #sorrynotsorry
I am sorry that you’ve been hurt, I’m sorry that lives have been broken, but I’m not sorry I fell in love with your husband. I’m not sorry that I’ve gotten to know a beautiful, talented man who has so much potential. I’m not sorry that I’ve allowed him a sense of freedom to be his self with me, no acting necessary. I’m not sorry that we’ve made incredible memories together, but I am sorry for how you found out. I am sorry that your world was shattered when you went digging through emails. I’m sorry that months after you thought it was over, you saw hundreds of text messages confirming otherwise. I’m sorry that once again, you found several hundred more. I’m sorry that I stopped caring if you knew, and only cared about my own heart. I’m sorry that I can say in all honesty that I don’t regret falling in love with him, but please, let me explain how it got to this point. I never intended to be evil.
Oy vey. Do you know what an apology is? It’s not saying, “I’m sorry!” and then following up with a list of things you are not sorry about at all. Your apology is all about making you feel better.
You’re not sorry you’ve gotten to know this beautiful, talented man who has so much potential? Oh, please do tell us what is stopping him from achieving his true potential. Is it his evil wife who doesn’t understand him? I bet it is.
You’re not sorry you’ve allowed him a sense of freedom to be his self with you? Oh my! I think I just lost my lunch there. Really? Is that the tired old line he’s feeding you? “I just can’t be myself around my wife. With you I’m the real me!” Guess what? He’s not. He’s a liar all the time.
You’re not sorry you’ve created incredible memories together? Why should you? It’s not like you’re fucking another woman’s husband. Oh wait…
I did particularly love this one: I’m sorry your world was shattered when you went digging through emails. Nice! An accusation within an apology! That takes some talent and just more than a little mindfucking.
Yes, Helen, if you hadn’t been snooping through your lying, cheating husband’s emails your world would never have been shattered and then I wouldn’t have to issue this shitty apology to you. Way to go, Helen!
You’re sorry that you stopped caring if the wife knew you were fucking her husband? You’re sorry that you don’t regret falling in love with her husband? Isn’t that kind of like saying, “I’m sorry I enjoy having sex with underage students,” or “I’m sorry I enjoy conning people out of their life savings,”? You say the words but you don’t seem to comprehend what you’re saying. It’s almost like you resent having to apologize for your bad behavior.
“The other woman”, “home wrecker”, “side bitch”, all terms you could use to reference me, but please know that no one (except for maybe a few coldhearted people) strives to be this. No one WANTS to break up a marriage, and no one wants to inflict hurt on another human. Love is a funny, funny thing and emotions do crazy things to us. They did to me, and I know they did to you too.
If you don’t WANT to break up a marriage or inflict hurt on another human then DON’T! Stop fucking her husband!
I remember vividly the day you found out about us. I was in my car, almost to the hotel, when I got a text that you were there. I laughed, I cried, I screamed, and I typed a simple “ok”. You had been waiting for me to walk in, but I was stuck in traffic that morning, so he found you instead. I often wonder what you would have said to me, would you want to talk, would you try to fight, would you just yell and ask questions? How selfish of me, but I was so angry thinking about how you ruined our weekend. You knew a lot about us, about me, but what you didn’t know is exactly what you were doing. You broke a piece of him that day, I’m not sure how, but you did. A piece that left him far more vulnerable than I had ever seen, and it allowed me to be there for him. What began as your way of ruining him and I, ended with you bringing us closer together. You threw pages of emails in his face and went on your way, and I spent the rest of the weekend by his side. We cried together, held each other, talked and told our deepest secrets, and that was the night I fell in love with your husband. I knew his demons, he let me in, and there was no turning back at that point.
What utter claptrap! You are a victim of your own bad romance novel. You truly are a reprehensible person.
As for her breaking a piece of him, well, let’s just say there’s no way that what she did to him could ever compare to the hell he inflicted on her by flaunting his whore in front of her. You’d better buckle up, sweetie; if he’s “broken” simply because his wife throws emails in his face after realizing he’s fucking you then he is a grade A, top of the line drama king who lives for the kibbles others throw him. You have fun with that.
If I told you I was under the impression there was a divorce coming, I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me, but that’s how I justified it.
Him and I discussed him moving out, divorce, what it meant for him financially, for us, for your family, and deep down I believed him. I remember one weekend while I was out of town, he called me so many times to get my opinion on apartments, talked to me for hours, and I thought, wow this is really happening. Every voice in my head screamed at me that they NEVER LEAVE! They never choose the “other woman” but my heart believed him, and so we continued this hollywood love affair.
Of course he told you that! He fed you kibbles, too. He knew exactly what to say to keep you on the line, in his bed, and on your knees. He told you what you wanted to believe. It’s not an affair if he’s already planning on leaving her. It’s not an affair if she doesn’t make him happy. It’s not an affair if we’re planning a future together. Hey- do you know what you get when you marry the guy who was cheating on his wife with you? A guy who cheats on his wife. Congratulations!
Over the past year, I’ve learned so much about him, I feel like I’ve known him forever. It started as silly flirting, back and forth messaging every few weeks. Then it became every week, then everyday, and before we knew it, we were making plans for lunch. Lunch turned into drinks, which turned into a night out, which turned into weekends in different states, which leaves us here. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I need you to know that him and I have a connection that I can’t explain. It’s not a fling for me, it’s not a “fantasy”, it’s not a claim to fame. You can keep the Hollywood perks, the award shows, the events, I don’t want that. That was never a factor in this relationship for me, and that’s where you and I differ.
Where do I even begin? Let’s start with this. You don’t flirt with married men. You don’t message back and forth every few weeks, and then let it turn into every week and then every day. You don’t make plans for lunch or drinks or nights out. You sure as hell don’t take off for the weekend. You made bad choices at every turn and then turn around and call it destiny.
No, you fooled around with a married man. You started off slowly, thinking you could handle it, and eventually it developed to the point where you were fucking him. It’s not fate. It’s two selfish people doing whatever they want to do.
You don’t have a connection. You’re having an affair. Everyone who is sleeping with someone they shouldn’t believes they have a “connection”. You know what a connection is? It’s yet another justification for piss poor behavior. He gives me the crotch tingles so we must have a connection. There- I’ve justified it.
And this: You can keep the Hollywood perks, the award shows, the events. I don’t want that. That was never a factor in this relationship for me, and that’s where you and I differ.
You sanctimonious, self-righteous bitch. How dare you presume to know why this woman fell in love with her husband? Shame on you for even trying to convince her that you’re not at all interested in any of that. Not only are you a home wrecking whore with no conscience, but you’re also a liar.
Oh Ridge, I’m not at all impressed by the million dollar mansion or the beach house or the Hollywood parties, rubbing shoulders with all the A-list stars. No- I love you for your potential!
Yeah, his potential to make you rich and famous and allow you to hobnob with celebrities.
You’re a topic in our relationship, and not for the reason you may think. As I said before, I never wanted this to happen, I never wanted to break a woman. I wasn’t thinking of you the first time we spent the night together, and that’s where I went wrong. He opens up to me about things I wish he wouldn’t, but I’m also thankful he does. I’ve put him in his place countless times when he’s mad at you. I’ve encouraged him to go to therapy, to listen to you, to do what he needs to do at home. I’ve promised him that if he wants to end this, I will go away without a word. I’m not the other girls (yes I know about them), who called and sent emails and photos and wanted to ruin you. I will go silently into the night and never look back, and he knows that. I’ve even tried to end things with him more than once. Mostly on nights I’ve had too much to drink and can’t control my tears.
Ah yes, you’re the better kind of other woman. The kind who gives him advice on how to improve his marriage while he’s having an affair. The kind who will go away if only he says the magic word. You only want to fuck him. You don’t want to send photos or emails or try to ruin her like those other girls.
Um… the fact that you know there were other girls is probably your big clue that the guy you think is so wonderful and full of potential is a lying, cheating sonofabitch with narc tendencies. If you do eventually get your way and he leaves his wife for you, you’re going to find yourself in her exact position. I wish you the best.
One night in particular stands out in my memory. It was pouring rain out, I had been out with a few girlfriends, and we talked about my recent trip with him. You posted a photo on social media of the two of you at a show, and this overwhelming sense of guilt came over me. What was I doing? Why was I continuing this when I knew it was wrong? I needed to stop, and on my way home, tears falling down my cheeks, I called him. He was at basketball with your son, he heard the pain in my voice and stepped outside where he listened to me cry for a half hour. I told him I was done, and without giving him time to react, I hung up. I thought that was it, I cried myself to sleep that night, and I thought to myself, I deserve that pain. I woke up to several calls and texts, and so continued this dangerous spiral.
Oh, you poor, stupid thing. You think he called and texted because he cares about you? Because he loves you? No, sweetie. You feed him delicious morsels of cake. You aren’t going to be allowed to leave him. He’ll discard you when he no longer has any use for you.
I used to think that I could walk away so easily, and the truth is, I can’t. That reality hit me like a ton of bricks after his first night of rehab. You know, the night that you forgot he was going, and didn’t so much as leave a word of encouragement for him. After all, he was going to appease you, since you were convinced he drank too much. He texted me on his break telling me he loved me, and he called me right at 9 when it got out. I wasn’t expecting that phone call, but I gladly welcomed it. He cried, an ugly cry, a cry I had never heard before, and we spent 2 hours on the phone. He was in your driveway, I’m sure you saw. At first I thought the cry was just an overwhelming amount of emotions, there was a pain in it that made me cry just as hard. He said that he didn’t want to go inside, he didn’t know how to act, because he left one of the most challenging nights, and he didn’t want to call his wife, he wanted to call me. That was when I knew that I can’t go knowing he doesn’t want me to. I can’t go knowing that what we have is so special and so rare. I fell hard for him, and now I’m in the middle of the ocean with no life boat, just floating and praying that I somehow find my way ashore.
Again, you’re blaming the wife. Oh, Helen, how could you forget your husband was going to rehab? You didn’t even bother to see him off. You forgot he was going!
Who told you she forgot? Him?
He cried and told you that he didn’t want to call his wife? He wanted to call you instead? Kibble, kibble, kibble. He’s an alcoholic in rehab and he wants to make sure you’re still around when he gets out.
You can’t go knowing he doesn’t want you to go? You can’t go knowing what you two cheaters have is so rare and special? Lady, you need to get a job writing for Harlequin. What cheater wants his co-conspirator to leave him? You are of use to him! Of course he doesn’t want you to go. He’s got a nice little triangle going on here. He’s got his wife trying to convince him to pick her and he’s got you doing your best to convince him you’re the best choice. He’s in Heaven! What you have is not rare and special. It’s tawdry and selfish and the result of bad decisions and horrible behavior. Slap whatever mystic label on it you’d like. It is still egregious behavior.
As I sit here, the barista sweeping around me because I’ve been here for two shift switches, wiping a tear from my eye, I can’t help but to think of you.
That’s a nice touch. The barista sweeping around you, wondering what on earth this macchiato sipping goddess must be doing here. The perplexed look on her face as she wipes the foam from her lip. Is that a tear? What has pained this ethereal being who has graced this particular coffee shop with her presence? I must know her story, the barista is undoubtedly saying to herself.
I can’t help but think of what must be going through your mind today, knowing that you found out last night that we’re still “doing this”. I need you to know that I never intended to be in this love triangle, and I never wanted to be the “other woman”, but that man stole my heart. I know you must know how I feel about him, we both probably love the same things about him. The 3 grey hairs in his goatee that he refuses to let me tweeze, the goofy accents he makes when he feels uncomfortable in a situation, the way he takes longer than any other man I’ve ever met to get ready. We’re so different, you and I, yet so similar at the same time. You asked him what it is about me, and the truth is, I don’t know. You’ve seen me, every inch of me unfortunately, and you’ve read my deepest thoughts, things that were meant for his eyes. I’m sorry that we’ve caused you heartbreak, and I’m sorry that we both love this imperfect, beautiful soul, and he loves both of us.
I’ve reached the end and my brain hurts. This fabulous man so full of potential, your soul mate, the love of your life, he of the rare and awesome connection, repeatedly lies to his wife about ending his relationship with you. He. Lies. To. Her. Repeatedly. You both cause her immense pain and yet the most you can muster up is this pitiful non-apology. You excuse your behavior over and over again. You didn’t mean for it to happen. He stole your heart. You’re sorry that you both love this imperfect, beautiful soul (who lies and cheats repeatedly).
The problem with all of this is that you act as though you’re both on the same playing field. You’re not. She’s his wife; she’s the one he married. She didn’t get to choose whether or not he took a mistress.
You were an interloper. You knew he was married, or you apparently could have easily figured it out, but chose not to. You chose to get involved with someone who was already married. You chose to insert yourself into someone else’s relationship and then you act like your pain is equal to hers. You chose the triangle. She didn’t; it was forced upon her. Over and over again she thought it had ended only to find out you were still involved with her husband.
Honestly, I hope she realizes she, too, has a choice. I hope she decides she’s better than all of this and the relationship she has with this lying cheater is not acceptable. I hope she kicks him to the curb and he comes crawling to you.
You’re wrong, you know, when you say you’re sorry that he loves you both. I don’t think he loves either of you. You don’t put a person you claim to love through that type of hell. And you already know you’re one of many side pieces. I think the only person that douche loves is himself.
An unregretful, but incredibly sorry other woman.
Sweetie, you cannot be incredibly sorry and also tell someone you don’t give a fuck that you’ve been fucking her husband. When you’re genuinely sorry you absolutely DO regret your behavior and the pain it has caused.