I don’t think I’ve spoken much about my feelings about H. In all honesty she’s a small part of the dumpster fire that my life has become. She is, in reality, somewhat inconsequential. She could have been anyone, she just happened to be there. You chose to ignore every red flag that popped up during your “friendship” which incidentally, crossed boundaries it shouldn’t have almost immediately.
You don’t talk about your wife with another woman in a negative light. In the same way that I neever said a negative word about you to another man in our whole relationship. It sends a very simple message – I’m unhappy in my relationship, the door is creeping open.
I’ve read a lot about how to not compare myself to the other woman. That it’s pointless because it’s likely that your partner “affaired down”. It took me a while to really understand this. I read this and this and this which helped me a lot to understand why you would pick a woman who was on the rebound from being dumped by her husband, who probably weighed a good 50lbs more than me and had the dress sense of a middle age woman. I don’t deny she has features which I lack. I don’t deny that she makes me feel inadequate in nearly every way. What I do know is that she is not a good person. She is a person to insert herself into a marriage, a family, and put her needs (with yours) above those of us who loved you.
Reality is she was there. that’s why you chose her. She was the first woman to pay you attention and compliments. You had an affair with her because she said nice things to you and it’s true that I cannot think of anything more pathetic than the pair of you mutually stroking each others ego’s with such desperation that you actually thought you loved one another. Harsh words? Maybe. It’s nothing less than the pair of you need to face up to though. Living with such a desperate need for validation and constant reassurance is the world of a vapid, immature, teen. Something the majority of adults realise is a toxic situation which leads to poor relationships, friendships, toxic behaviour.
She was there. She said the right things. You fell into it because your self esteem was flat lining. She got the weakest most pathetic version of you. Snivelling and begging for her to love you. She fell for your bull shit too. She fell for “you’re such an awesome professional” which she lapped up as a woman who must suffer with the biggest case of impostor syndrome, she used to sell cakes in a bakery now she’s a shoulder padded power woman. It’s laughable really cause she’s pathetic under that war paint. She fell for lust and flattery. Most women realise that men will say most anything to get their dick wet or boost their own ego and she not only fell for it she fed it right back. She couldn’t wait to validate that shitty behaviour with some shitty behaviour of her own.
That’s the thing. She was as pathetic as you and when I see her I want her to feel as bad as I do and I’m frustrated that she isn’t. I want her to feel what it’s like to have your husband abandon you whilst claiming that he’s still there 100%. I want her to know, what her words to you did to me. How they riled me up and damaged me beyond repair. I want her to know that I may never recover from this fully. I may not ever be able to unpick the layers of pain and distrust in me that she validated and cemented.
When I see her now, she still rocks me, with her long hair swooshing about like mine never will, how she wears heels every day to work whilst I work in my steel capped boots. We are such different people. I couldn’t imagine being the other woman. What that is and what it would be. I couldn’t imagine meddling with a family that way. Causing the harm that she’s caused to ours. I am a girls girl. A woman’s woman. She is not. She is the embodiment of the reason men attack women, call us bitchy, and sly, and manipulative.
But her personality, is not what lingers in my brain, it’s the thought of you lusting after her, so much that others noticed, the thought of you talking about touching her, wanting to hold her, wanting to touch her breasts and her ass, how you would wanted to make her come for you, those thoughts linger when I think of her, when thoughts of her force their way into my head they are quickly followed by how those curves you so lusted after are not present on my smaller body, how those kinks she described that made you hard are not part of our sex life, how that hair you wanted to grab isn’t on my head.
I can’t imagine not feeling less than her.