Rage

The worst part about my affair with Matt, was how it made me feel about myself. Indeed, Rosemary was right, when she said “he couldn’t have gotten to another girl who had higher self esteem.”

Who in the correct (as socially defined) state of mind would be with a married guy? One who’d tell her how he fucked his wife? One who’d moralise her for drinking because she needed to block out how he fucked his wife? One who’d still at the end of it all, just walk away, without saying so much as a sorry, but blatantly telling her “you have to wake up?” What do you mean? From my worthless drunken existence? Nothing. I never thought a problem, at least until I met you. Because from then, getting drunk started serving a purpose. I WANTED my brain cells to be killed.

No Matt, I did not screw Daryl the way you claim I did. But what does it matter, because you chose to believe him. So do you feel better now? IS IT THEN RIGHT, THAT YOU DUMPED ME?

And why? Why did you betray my trust by telling him what I confided in you?

And what’s my bloody problem? How can I go through the past ¾ weeks berating myself on “what did I do wrong?” and thinking “I still love him so”, when long ago you decided fun was fun and it was time to go? Wham Bam goodbye M’dm. Go discuss with your pilot friends whether I was a good fuck. Was I loud in bed? Did I turn you ALL on?

Fuck you fuck you fuck you. Do you know what you have done to me? WHY? There are many other girls out there who deserve it. Me, I've had enough shit as it is. Really.

I’m a depressed girl. You know that. You should have known not to fool around with girls like us. Because unlike girls like Peggy who’ll still buy your favorite mags from Japan, we can’t cope with the rage in us.

We tend to either destroy OURSELVES, if not you.

Help

I can’t get Matt out of my head and it’s driving me crazy. This is so hard. Fighting the constant urge to call him. Trying to block out the aching vacuum inside me. Telling myself I cannot crumble.

What Is He Thinking?

I miss Matt so much. But I know I should not see him or talk to him. Message him or call him. Deceive myself and think that he still cares. Although god knows how much I want him to still be who I thought, and perhaps still think, he was.

What is he thinking now? Is he as miserable as me? Does he miss me? What is he doing? Who is he doing it with? These are the thoughts that plague me when I can't sleep, can't eat, oversleep and overeat.

What I want to hear is :"The only reason he hasn't called you is because his debilitating sadness has left him lying on the floor of his apartment in a pizza box full of tears." "The only activity he's been able to manage is feverishly plan a way to win your heart back." "He may never smile or laugh again." Yes, in a perfect world, Matt should be tormenting himself, wondering how he could have made such a mistake and hurt me so, and remembering all the good times we had together.

But NO. Matt had a huge headstart on the emotional healing when he dumped me. However long he had entertained ending our relationship was how long he's been weaning himself off me. If I know him well enough, life is probably going on per normal for him and his family. Spending time with Wifey. Coaching Eunice. Taking them out to gatherings with friends.

The fact of the matter is that once he got over the initial guilt, he probably felt relief. "He feels bad about hurting your feelings, he misses you sometimes and even thinks of calling, but ultimately he is relieved that it's over."

This is the reality I live with each and everyday since he left. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

The End

Dear Matt,

This past two weeks, I have been the saddest girl in the world. I have been consumed with despair, confusion and anger - truly devastated. I’ve cried into glass after glass of pinot noir. I’ve smoked packs of cigarettes. I’ve lost my appetite. I’ve binged to forget and then purged to NOT WANT. I’ve slept too much. I’ve not slept. I’ve watched sad movies. I’ve sang sad songs. I’ve flirted with other men. I’ve distracted myself. I’ve obsessed. I’ve rebounded. I’ve tired out my friends who truly cared about me.

I never used to be this way. I used to be able to walk away and not care. You, Matt, were my kryptonite. And like Superman, I was powerless in your wake.

But you see, just like in the movies, Superman has to figure out a way to overcome kryptonite. Thankfully, I have slowly but surely learnt to overcome you. It's excruiatingly difficult, but it gets easier each day.

I knew right from the beginning that our relationship was never meant to be. And now, I know that I never really did have you. Not in the way Wifey has you. No. I was and will always just be another girl who came into your life, and then went out of your life. There was a time I thought I could have stayed with you as the other woman forever. I thought we had something special, our shared interests and thoughts.

I guess I thought wrong. No doubt some part of it must have been real. But not real enough, I suppose, for you to stay. I wish you had not reached out to me in the first place. I wish I did not meet you. In a year's time, you may not even remember who I was.

I'm letting go now.

It’s wildly empowering. The best worst news is that we have broken up. At least there’s no more dreading when and if I’m going to see you a particular night, how bad I’m going to feel, and the agony when my mind goes wild thinking about you and her. I'm at peace now - no more agonizing, no more drama. It’s acknowledging that “Even with all the mayonnaise in the world, you can’t make chicken salad out of chicken shit.”

Yes, it’s called a break-up because it’s broken. And from this adversity, I trust I will learn and become a stronger person. Thanks for everything you've done for me. I know you cared.

Love, Lizzie

Slut

I’m beginning to believe that I am just a psychotic slut who sleeps around. Like Daryl said I was. Am I? I never thought I was, until I became this monster.

So I’ve been drinking a lot. Purging a lot. Sleeping around. Being the resident slut. And strangely, being comforted by the pain, because I can tell myself that I found a reason why Matt left me.

I don’t know what I want from Matt anymore. Him to hate me? Him to love me? Him to miss me, when I’m no longer around? Or maybe, just him to regret having hurt me like this and saying SORRY just one time.

Happy 4 Month Anniversary

I wish WE could have happened a while longer.

Last Contact?

Tonight, after one too many McCormick oranges I figured I would message Matt. He’s in New York now. With his number committed to memory (most unfortunately), I drunk messaged him: “I think it’s sad because I still miss you, even though I’m not allowed to.”

He replied a while later: “And I’m the bastard..”, referring to my last blog post.

Dammit you’re still screwing my mind, even now. I just wanted an apology, DAMMIT.

My message to him has made it worse. Taken me further away from the place I want to be – a place dignified and cool.

“Yes” I replied. “You ARE the Bastard, because you left me.” And I passed out, fully clothed, the last shreds of my dignity still intact.

Sad Love Songs

I stopped taking the pill today. There's no point, since Matt doesn't want me anymore.

After work, I meet my ex colleague Wendy for drinks at Intro Bar. We have a couple of wines before we head for Balaclava, where Michelle was waiting for me. She was there with her bosses and their friends, mostly middle-aged men with wives waiting for them at home and too much cash to spend on other women. Michelle is a friend of mine who was also seeing a married guy. A few days ago, she told me tearfully that he had just gone missing on her. One day they were fine and the next, she could not get in touch with him at all. I didn't know what to say.

Misery loves company. Michelle, Wendy and I finish our drinks at Balaclava and adjourn to KBox with the guys. One of them is the owner of KBox. Being the karaoke-phobic I am, I am hardly impresed. Normally, I'd not step into KBox unless I absolutely have to. But tonight, I need (more) free booze. I need to numb myself.

Don't Go Baby

Matt did not call me the whole weekend. I had messaged him incessantly on Friday night, telling him how much I loved and missed him. How I needed him to be with me. How he made me want to be a better person. How I'd quit my parties and smoking for him. How I couldn't live without him. All my messages went answered. Please don't leave me Baby.

When I call him on Saturday and Sunday, he answers the phone but hangs up after saying "I'm driving." I force myself not to message or call him after that, in case he starts thinking me as a nuisance. I'll be good, I promise. But today at work, I couldn't hold back and I messaged him "I'm afraid if this goes on we'll lose what we have and become friends." He replied: "I think that's for the best Baby."

I put my phone down and ran for the toliet. I hide there, sobbing my heart out.

The Answer

I take the afternoon off to meet Matt today and he suggests that we meet me directly at Marina Square. I cannot help but think about how in the past, he would pick me up from home and he would come up to my place. It kills me, how he’s keeping a distance from me. Seeing Matt again makes me realize how much I love him. It’s beyond reason, all I want is for him to take me into his arms. But he remains aloof.

I ask him what's wrong, why things are so different now. He did not reply me. Instead, he asked me "Can we just be good friends? I don't know if we should still be together."

This cannot be happening. I bite my lip and try hard not to show my devastation. I give him a smile. "No, I think it'll be hard for me to be friends with you. You're not sure about it, I don't know what to do either, so let's just see how it goes ok?"

"Ok" he says. After coffee, he leaves to meet Wifey to view a flat (they're moving house). I meet my friends. Another drunken night.

Please Tell Me

Can someone please tell me what's going on before I lose my mind?

What's Wrong

I haven’t seen Matt since he has been back. He doesn’t message or call me anymore. When I ask him why, it seems to push him further away from me. His replies to my messages are curt and I cannot figure out why. Did I do something wrong? Can he let me make it up to him? Has he stopped loving me?

First Signs

Matt arrived back from LA today.

I was hoping Matt could meet me to catch the Monaco F1 race but he said he had a family gathering to attend. I tell him that it’s ok. Throughout the race, I send him cheery messages updating him on the progress. Later, it turns out he was at home watching the race afterall. I don’t understand why he did not call me or message me but something tells me that I should not pry. “Talk online later” he messages, in reply to my message. I stay logged onto the internet till one tonight. He doesn’t come on line. I don’t know what to think, but my mind has no rest tonight.

Time Together

Matt is flying off to LA tomorrow so I take the day off from work. It’s getting harder to spend time with him since Wifey found out. Most days when I get off from work, Matt will be at home spending time with Wifey. She doesn’t let him go out so much now, and I do miss seeing him. We caught the movie Da Vinci code today. It wasn’t a great show but Matt was beside me and I was happy.

A Good Getaway

Matt and I had a good break this weekend. In spite of everything (see below), I had a really good time.

Saturday morning, Matt and I drove up to Malaysia with his friends. The guys had planned on partying the night in K.L. before hitting the Sepang open track on Sunday. We reached KL in the late afternoon and checked into the hotel. Matt and I managed to spend some time together and he took me out for a lovely japanese dinner. As always, his company was great and I really enjoyed myself. After dinner, we joined the rest of the gang for drinks. We went to a few pubs along the popular tourist district and downed many rounds of whiskey. Everyone was in a party mood. It was fun. I had never seen Matt so game for drinks, he is usually very controlled.

By the end of the night, I was drunk. That was where the trouble began.

Matt took me back to the hotel and by I ran for the bathroom the minute we entered the room. I felt really sick and needed to get the alcohol out of my system. So I did my usual thing* -- shove my fingers down my throat. Matt knows about my eating disorder but he had never witnessed it before. What a mess I was, slumped at the sink trying to purge and crying with my knuckles raw and red. But then Matt did the sweetest thing. He took me in his arms and kissed me. I forgot about how sick I felt and kissed him back. That much I remember, before I blacked out. I’m so sorry I put him through it.

*I've been swinging between anorexia and bulimia the past 8 years.

Peace Resumed

Matt has not been meeting me as often as he did before because he has to pacify Wifey. But things have settled down.

Granted, I did not take it well at first. We had many “I-know-I’m-married-what-do-you-expect-me-to-do?” arguments. I couldn't understand why he became absent both physically and emotionally. His nonchalance and my resultant despair broke me. I drank, drunk messaged and had sleepless nights frustratedly punching into my pillow.

Afterwards, we had another but-I-still-love-and-want-to-be-with-you-talk. We made up. As always, making up was sweet and tender. Matt made a bit more effort to spend time with me and everything felt right again. The skies looked brighter because he said he cared. The birds are singing in tune with us. I am smiling again.

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I know I should just shut the hell up and enjoy the bliss now. But I cannot resist thinking: How long will this last? You see, as this affair progresses, I feel myself spiraling out of control. My thoughts, my feelings, my life – they have all gone awry. Even writing this blog, where previously it helped me put things into perspective better, it really is plain ranting now. Without getting anywhere nearer the next remotely “sensible” step.

Happy three-month anniversary Baby.

Belated

I'm on leave today. Matt came by my place and we spent time together. I am truly happy.

Happy Birthday to Me

I’m 28 today.

In the morning at the office, I wait impatiently for 12pm to come. I had taken the afternoon off to meet Matt. He buys me lunch and we chat over coffee. It’s all nice and sweet. I’m just so happy to see him, it doesn’t matter that he won’t be joining me to go to Balaclava, where my friends (and some of his) are celebrating my birthday for me.

6pm. Time for Matt to go pick Wifey up from work. I plaster on a huge smile and say my goodbyes.

Relief

Matt's finally talking to me again. He's angry at me for sending him those drunk messages on Friday. I know, it was not within your control that you had to take her to Sepang, baby. His car also acted up on him again there and he had been busy sending it for repairs. I make a conscious effort not to mention the past weekend. I’m just glad he’s not mad at me anymore.

Sleepless Soberity

Matt has not called or messaged me for the last forty seven hours. I have not slept for the last thirty eight. I couldn't resist sending him a message asking "Are you back?", but it's been an hour and he hasn't replied. I am tired.

Is he back from Sepang? Did they enjoy themselves? Did he fuck her? Does he realize this is killing me? Does he care? How could he just disappear on me like that? Do I want to carry on destroying myself? Do I want to see him again?

Can it hurt anymore than it is hurting now? I need to take my mind off my mind. I need to numb myself.

Broken

Matt went to Sepang today. No he hasn't called.

After some drinks last night, I had called a good friend of mine who was in Bangkok. I don't remember what I told her, but my call must have disturbed her because this morning, I received an email from her:

Dearie,

I don't know if my presence would have helped, but I really wish I could have been around for you last night. You know it pains me, too, to know that you're sad or hurt or upset. I read your blog almost everyday to know what you're going through with him and to understand how you're feeling, and your pain is so palpable I feel like crying at times - for the unfairness of it all, for everything that you've got to handle being together with him.

Sometimes we make choices that aren't rational but we dive headlong into them anyway. It is a choice that you made, and it's a choice that you are struggling with all the time. I couldn't scold you when you decided to start something with him; all I could do was to hope that it won't kill you inside and that you'd be able to cope with the fluctuating periods of happiness and depression. I know that whatever I say or others say won't influence you because you know all that already anyway.

I really do care for you. I don't want you to feel like crap every time he disappoints you or is unable to be around for you because he has other commitments. I hate that you've got to put up with all this shit. I hate having to see you in the position that I was once in and being helpless to do anything about it. I just hope and pray that you'd be able to find happiness and peace within yourself. You really do deserve so much more. But whatever decision you choose to make, I'll support you, even if it might be against my better judgment. Take heart dear, and find your happiness.

I am so sorry for burdening you with my problems. I guess I am not as strong as I think I am.

I'm Nobody

Matt is back from LA today and I am looking forward to seeing him. This morning, I wake up early to meet him at the airport and we had our usual breakfast at Macs. It was then he broke the news.

“She’s going up to Sepang with me.” My heart sank. “Oh, ok” I managed. I was supposed to go with you.

It was a pre-birthday trip for me but a few days ago, when he was in LA, he had told me that the trip was off because one of "the wives" (of his Evo gang) was going. I hope you understand. I told him I did. I convinced myself that it didn’t matter, that it was just one of those things that happened. But this?

“Oh and I won’t be joining you at Bala tonight. She’s on half day today, wants to take Eunice to the Zoo”. Think happy thoughts. “That’s nice.” I said.

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My day in the office was spent in a daze. To focus, I popped another phenny. Later in the night, I went to Balaclava to meet my friends. It was my pre-birthday party. No, Matt did not turn up unexpectedly to surprise me. Don't be naive.

At balaclava, I felt sick just thinking about the events of the day and my inconsequence to Matt. I vomitted after a glass of wine. Afterwards, I fixed my red eyes the best way I could and re-joined my friends. I need not to feel. When the usual sleazebags came by and made me drink, I drank up to each and every loathed toast. Soon, I felt better. At least I can sleep tonight.

Love Match

It’ll be my birthday next Wednesday. Yes, I’ll be 28 years old in a few days’ time.

Matt and I are both Taureans, that means we’re either a match made in heaven, or a total washout. Because we share the same traits and personality flaws, our life together will be either filled with chaos or total boredom.

The female tends to take a sensible approach to the finances, and her business sense earns his great respect. She is a splendid housekeeper and also makes a good hostess - something the Taurus demands in his mate, as they both share a love of cooking and fine dining. Her feelings of security is heightened by the male's ability to hold a job and provide for the household. They each have an in-born need to express their feelings, and will constantly strive to convey their emotions and love to one another. They enjoy doing things together, and share many of the same interests. The physical aspects of their union will be very satisfying; they could spend half their life in the kitchen, cooking, and the other half frolicking in the bedroom. Their sex life is important but relatively straightforward. In this relationship you will find two people who are happy, and jolly, whose very lives will revolve around each other.

That said, the stars highlight jealously as a major problem for our Taurean-Taurean match.

The possessiveness and jealousy that each feels will cause each to put the other through an unpleasant time, on a regular basis, of close questioning on his/her whereabouts and activity. Taureans are well known for their stubbornness and they must both learn how to gracefully back off and end the confrontations that such a trait will normally bring.

It’s telling, when an atheist like me takes to heart all this John-Gray-type love astrology shit.

Resignation

Matt flew to LA the day after his birthday. How did she celebrate your birthday baby?

Things between us have been alternating between good and bad so often these past few days I am beginning to fear it will be the norm. I wish I am resigned to the state of things so that I will not question him or myself, or this comedy in tragedy anymore. I really should stop stirring the inner demons, most of all my own. What is the point?

Yes, resignation is the best worst thing for me. You see Jeremy, when your loved one knows the blog address where you lay your heart out plain and raw and reads in print the angst you'd never show him otherwise, you cannot help but expect things to change for the better no matter how little. And when you realise that that isn't going to happen, there's just that dull tug of pain you feel and then nothing.

Happy Birthday Baby

I love you.

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I am so happy Matt managed to meet me today. I had thought I wouldn't have the opportunity to celebrate his birthday for him. When he messaged me to tell me, I cut short my coffee date with QY, hurried to get a cake and rushed home to wait for him. It was a simple affair. We had dinner at a cafe near my house and went back to my place to catch F1 on the telly. After the race, I brought out the cake and gave him his present. I had bought him a pendant from Tiffany & Co, with "Matt" engraved on it. You're special to me.

Better Bend Than Break

After my argument with Matt yesterday (where I atypically did not feel like arguing), I met up with Beanstalk for drinks. "Somebody's really thirsty today" he slurred, as we ordered the third bottle of wine. Yes, I can't wait to get drunk so I need not think. "Drink up" I tell him. He nods, no questions asked.

My phone sounds. It's Matt. "Can you not hate me?" he messages. I don't hate you. I'm just inexplicably sad. "What makes you think I hate you?" I reply. You still don't get it. It's not about you. It's about me. It's about self-esteem, self preservation. "Can you continue loving me?" He asks. I never stopped loving you. Why can't you understand that?

I agree to meet him outside my place close to midnight. He is early and waits by his car. He looks lost standing there. I want to sweep his hair out of his eyes and tell him I'll never leave him. "Would you like to come up?" I ask. We'll work this out together.

The Tipping Point

I’m tired of this bullshit. I don’t need to live on the scraps he throws me.

I had planned for my Spain holiday since late last year. I saved my annual leave so that I could have a nice long two week holiday just doing nada along the streets of Barcelona. Then I meet Matt. Who tells me to take a trip with him to New Zealand. I want to spend time with him so I say ok and change my travel plans. Then he tells me that the New Zealand’s trip is off and suggested going to Hong Kong instead. “To visit Samantha” he says, “I’d like to meet her.” Fine, I thought, it’s sweet that he wants to know my good friend. And anyway, I haven’t got that many days of leave left (I’ve been taking a lot of time off work just so I can spend time with him, since it’s only when his wife is at work that he can hang out in peace). So I set my heart on Hong Kong. Then he tells me that it’s off. Why, I asked. Because she asked me to go Hong Kong with HER.

I can never win, you know that?

What am I to say so that I will not immediately be labeled “not understanding”? What am I to think, when every thought I have only demolishes my self esteem? How am I to stay, when staying means I contend my insignificance and compromise to this affair of conveniences? What's wrong? Nothing.

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It’s Matt’s birthday on Sunday and I want to make it special for him. He told me “We can plan something but if she wants to celebrate for me on the same we’ll need to call it off.” Why am I doing this to myself?

Truly Madly Deeply

I've never felt so close to Matt as today. I think the intensity of our intimacy touched us both. For the first time today, we made love without a condom.

"It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it." -- Christian Nevell Bovee

It scares me, what I feel for this man I can never have.

Close of A Chapter

My second test results came back today and it's NEGATIVE. The antibiotics did their magic and I no longer have Chalmydia.

I feel so much lighter, laying down the cross.

I Love Cakeman

Yesterday and today were non-eventful. I didn’t get to see Matt much and strangely, the absence was therapeutic in a now-I-can-step-back-and-look-at-the-bigger-picture way. Not that I don’t miss him though. I do.

But while things between us are seemingly the same , something seems to have changed. Is it me that feels different no? And if so, how is it different?

I can’t say for sure, but I think I'm tired. I genuinely feel weary of the continual emotional ups and downs these two months. Has it only been two months? It feels much longer. It's gotten to a stage where I don’t want to get upset or jealous or angry anymore. I no longer feel the need to justify being with him. No more finding excuses for his excuses. No more wondering about whether they’re sleeping together. What's reasonable? What's unfair? It really doesn't matter.

He is cakeman, but I love him anyway. For that, I bear the consequences.

"There are no rewards or punishments -- only consequences." -- Dean William R. Inge

No Day Like Today

Matt landed in Singapore early this morning. Wifey went to pick him up. I kept myself busy the whole day so I wouldn’t think about him.

“ Have a good flight back”, I had told him over the phone yesterday morning. “Thanks. See you soon Baby. Love you” he had said. “Me too”, I had mumbled. We hung up and I made haste in preparing to go to the office. What have I done? Fallen back into the abyss it would seem. Am I out of my mind? Or am I a masochist, as suggested by some of you? Maybe. Are justifications important? They were, but they don’t seem to be anymore.

He comes by my place in the afternoon. “I have a few hours” he says. Wifey is out at a gathering with friends and he’s to join her later. I try not to think too much and just focus on the present. Afterall, the present is the only certainty I have.

I Wavered

I wake up today to 7 missed calls and 2 messages from Matt. “Don’t leave, don’t do this to me.” he said. I have a sudden sense of déjà vu*. My head hurts from the drinks last night. My heart aches thinking of Matt. I know I should stand my ground and leave him like I said I would. I know that if I turn back now, I will subject myself to more hurt in the days to come. But I miss him so.

So I pick up the phone and call him back.

*About two years ago, I received the same message from somebody else. I had stood my ground and walked away. Don't ask me why.

Because I Can't Make You Pick Me

So, Wifey knows about us. Over MSN, Matt updates me: “She’s very upset” he says, “She’s been crying a lot.” “Uh huh..” I say. Don’t say it, I will him silently. Not this way. “So what are you going to do about it?” I manage. He’s quiet for a while.

“Can I ask something of you?” he finally asks. “Uh huh?” I say. Anything, just don’t ask me to go. I will eventually, but not now. “Give me a week. Let’s stop seeing each other for a week so I can settle her.” he says. You’re just not that special.

“I don’t know what to say.” It’s true, I don’t.

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Balaclava on a Wednesday night, where men hover, locate their prey and move in for the kill. Here, you don’t need to be beautiful, just as long as you are vaguely presentable. The men don’t need to be smart, witty or rich, just as long as they can afford a couple of wines during happy hour. Call it complicated, but really, it’s all very simple.

Tonight, drinks flow like water, courtesy of new-found “friends” introduced by Mickey. They are banker types. The types who give you namecards asking you to “call (them)”. Types I cannot stand. Leave me alone, I just want to drink in peace. Beverly and some girlfriends join me. Beanstalk and Beng too. So does Kiddo. At last, real friends. More drinks.

Amidst beer, wine and the odd Chivas, I remember the girls hugging me. I remember the guys patting my head, ruffling my hair. I remember telling a sleazy guy to “screw off”. I remember Kiddo offering me a 50-50 bourbon coke. I remember texting Wifey (don’t ask how I got her number) “He’s yours, I’m letting go.” I remember crying in the toilet. I remember texting Matt “One of us has to go Baby.. Might as well be me. Really love you but you are not mine to keep.” I remember crawling into the cab at midnight. I remember hiding my tears from my mum. I remember crying myself to sleep.

I remember Matt and thinking how someone so right can be so wrong.

Exposed

Matt’s in New York and he told me over MSN that his wife had read my reply to Valerina and Jeremy’s comments. “She cried the whole night.” He typed. “What?” I typed back. “Why’d you show her in the first place?”

According to him, she had seen the reply on his laptop screen when he walked away to get a glass of water. Matt does not know my blog address but he knows I write about him. I had told him that I had received some comments from strangers that both touched and made me think about my affair with him. He wanted to read my reply to the comments so I had sent him my reply in a word document, which he had carelessly opened and left on his screen.

“So what now?” I asked. I don't know what to think. I feel so guilty I made her cry.

“I don’t know” he replies.

Cakeman

I did a random search for “the other woman” on Google today and came across this website. It’s basically a forum for people involved in extramarital affairs (you can be the “OW” – Other Woman, “MM” – Married Man, “MW” – Married Woman, “MOW” – Married Other Woman.. you get the idea) to speak freely about their highs and lows. These highs and lows, laid out plainly, are inconsequentially common.

MM went on vacation with Wifey, I am a blubbering mess. Do people know, did anyone see us? Have you met the kids, god I feel so guilty! Should I tell the wife, will he file?

I AM LONELY ALREADY.

Although it was somewhat comforting knowing that some people have left their affairs and lived to tell their stories, it was depressing how the majority still struggles on. We all love them dearly. That is the "given", otherwise no one would put up with all this crap ever. What has to happen though is that we need to separate our wishes and hopes from the reality of their actions. The hardest thing to discover perhaps is that we are just not that "special".

I particularly liked what one "survivor" bluntly pointed out: "He is happy, he has two women dying to be with him, he knows how to keep both of you in line so there isn't too much drama, he is a CAKEMAN."

Family Day

Saturdays are Family Days. This means that Saturdays are out of my realm. On Saturdays, Matt takes his wife and kids out. On Saturdays, he cannot meet me and calls are limited to a “need to” basis. (To note, these are not rules he writes out. This is an implicit arrangement, although if I had a say in it I’d suggest Monday s or Tuesdays as Family Days.)

This morning, he sends me a message: “Good morning sweetie! Eunice (his daughter) wants to cycle so we’re at the beach now.” Ouch. I reply: “Nice weather to cycle, have fun.” I try to distract myself watching a movie with a friend. Later, I send him another message: “What’s for dinner?”. His reply came after half an hour: “We’re meeting Derrick and his wife in town for dinner.” Such cosy coupling. I don’t expect him to message me again. Perhaps I’ll see him online later. I hate that I have come to hate Saturdays.

Forgiven

When I woke up from my half slumber this morning, my pillow was wet and I felt like crap. I had not managed to talk to Matt yesterday. He switched off his mobile phone and hung up his home phone. I know I must seem like some psycho repeatedly dialing his number but I was desperate. I hate this feeling of being cut off. I need to explain myself. It was all in the past I swear. I’m not a slut.

“Sometimes I wish I could walk around with a HANDLE WITH CARE sign stuck to my forehead. Sometimes I wish that there were a way to let people know that just because I live in a world without rules, and in a life that is lawless, doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt so bad the morning after. Sometimes I think that I was forced to withdraw into depression because it was the only rightful protest I could throw in the face of a world that said it was alright for people to come and go as they please, that there were simply no real obligations left.” That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key.” - Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

I force myself to go for the appointment I had made with the gynae. I am to take another test for Chalmydia to see if the course of antibiotics prescribed had cleared the infection. I don’t care I just want Matt back. At the clinic, I try to call Matt again. After rejecting my calls a few times he reluctantly came to the phone. When I said I wanted to meet him, he hung up.

I ended up waiting by Matt’s car for an hour at the swimming pool. I knew he was going for a swim and that was the nearest pool to his home. You’ve sunk to a new low ET, stalking a guy. By the time Matt finished his swim, my makeup was running. He handed me some tissue paper and asked me to get into the car. We went to a coffee shop nearby for him to have his lunch. After much silence, staring-at-the-ground-my-hands-the-coffee-cup, I make some progress talking to him. He tells me why he got so worked up and I see his point.

“Let’s do a trade” Matt says. “I forgive you and you quit your cigarettes.”

“Ok” I reply. Anything to be with you.

I am not a Slut

I don’t know what to do. I desperately need to talk to Matt but he won’t pick up my calls. I even called his home. His wife picked up the phone and I hung up. Why won’t he talk to me? Surely I deserve a chance to explain myself?

Matt blew up tonight when I told him that I had accepted KS’ invite for dinner tomorrow night. KS is an old friend of mine. We met when I was working in SIA. I liked him and he was attracted to me. Things happened on a few episodes but nothing panned out in the end. I made the hideous mistake of telling Matt the truth about KS and he’s decided not to see me again. Please don’t go. You promised not to judge my past.

Hold That Smile

You meet a guy. He’s married. He tells you so because he’s “got nothing to hide”. He asks you out for coffee. You think: he’s a good guy, we could be friends. You accept. Over coffee the two of you talk about anything and everything. Bonding, you think. The next day he asks to meet again. And the next day. Soon he is on your mind a lot. He tells you he misses you too. Later when he hugs you longer than a friend should you let him. Feelings develop. It’s all good. Except soon you find yourself thinking about him and her. What he does with her when he is not with you. It makes you sad. Because you know he is hers. He already said he will never leave her. You hide your sadness so you don’t worry him. It gets harder. One day you break. You show him your sadness. “Sorry I never meant to hurt you” he says and walks away.

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It scares me how easily Matt can leave this relationship. I find myself increasingly accommodating to him – not demanding too much of his time and hiding my feelings of unhappiness etc – because I am afraid that I’ll lose him. I must keep that smile on my face, I remind myself.

Tonight I Cried

The whole day at work today, I could not concentrate. Images of my time with Matt yesterday kept flashing in my head and I missed him. I was also dreading the talk I am meant to have with my sister later this evening. We had arranged to meet for coffee. I was early in getting to Starbucks. Nervously, I took out a cigarette and inhaled deeply. That helped calm me down a little. “I’m here” my sister startled me from behind. Her eyes moved to my cigarette and she frowned. “Let's sit inside, where you can't smoke."

Inside, my sister looked at me and asked "Tell me how it happened, why and what you intend to do about it." I could not meet her eyes. The how was easy. But the whys and what-to-dos were issues I could find no answers to. I tell her how Matt and I started. “I know what I’m doing is wrong, but it feels so right.” I said. Her eyes softened. “You know that you’re just going to get hurt. So why do it?” My heart ached. How can I tell her that the love I felt was the kind that switched off the mind and turned on the heart? “I never meant to get involved, it just happened.” I squeaked. I must have lost any chance of winning her because she blew up “What do you mean 'it just happened'? Did you ever think, in your selfish little head, how unfair this is to his wife? You’re an adult, you make your own choices. Nobody took a gun to your head and asked you to f* him.” That hurt.

The rest of the evening while she berated me, I mumbled half-hearted replies and stared blankly into my coffee. Fifteen minutes later, she left angrily on the note “I expected more from you.” I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole right then. After she left, I sat there alone surrounded by two full mugs of cold latte for a full thirty minutes. My mind raced with all the possible posthumous arguments I could have made but did not - they could hold no ground either. I got up and walked in the direction of Balaclava. Make it stop hurting.

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I try to call Matt but I can’t get him. I finish what’s left of my second glass of red wine and dial his number again. Nobody picks the call up. She must be beside him. The guy at the other table buys me another glass of red wine. I toast him distractedly. I need to talk to Matt. I desperately need him to hold me in his arms and tell me that everything’s going to be ok. I need him to reassure me that I am still a good person. I hate that I have become so needy. Back home, I try to call him again. He has switched off his phone. They must be in bed by now.

A Short Rendevous

I went to the airport early this morning to meet Matt. He’s back a day early from his Los Angeles flight and his wife doesn’t expect him home till Monday. We’re going to check into a suburban (read: out of the way, far from people who’ know us) hotel for the night because he wants to “spend some time with me”. Increasingly I feel like a kept woman. But I try not to let it bother me.

We had a long talk after the big fight yesterday. He explained to me that he could not leave his wife because that would mean he is “not a good man” whom I will not want anyway. He said he still loves and wants to take care of me, but reiterated that he does not want his family to break up. I still do not see the logic. But I pretend I do.

We had a nice time today. Lots of cuddling, hand-holding and showing of affection we normally refrain from in public. Away from the city, the Changi area is an interesting area to explore. We walk along the coast for what seemed like forever. It was all very romantic and surreal. Later at night, we sip wine in the room. Relaxed and a little tipsy, we make love. I don't want the night to end. But I know that when morning comes, he'll have to go home to his wife and family.

Purging out Loud

Matt told me today that he’ll never leave his wife. In the same breath, he said that he loved and wanted to take care of me. I don’t understand. How can I?

I hate it when I don’t know whether or not what he tells me is real although he definitely sounds sincere and I want to just stop my nonsense too and not act tough chick and trust him but didn’t your mum ever tell you to be careful with your heart and not trust people too easily but wait can her advice be trusted because look at where it ever got her.

I hate it when I think of what is or is not going on with you-know-who and the images kind of creep up on me and I let the doubts crowd my mind and all hell breaks loose and I feel I need a drink or a cigarette or ten tubs of ice cream with extra chocolate syrup and oh throw in a few packet of crisps oh you self-indulgent bitch you are the one who intruded so stuff it.

I hate it when things that used to make me smile like a baby gurgling can now weigh down my heart when I hear it over the phone because it reminds me of what they shared and still share and will probably continue sharing with or without me around and yes I know I had my own shot at it but bailed out so does that mean I don’t deserve or get a second chance.

I hate it when I have to take it or leave it whether or not I can leave it and if I take it I got to keep my mouth shut because it’s not like anyone put a gun to my head and made me stay no I made the choice myself so I have no right to complain now although the door is still open I can still choose to go thank you very much.

I hate how the thought of leaving scares me and I used to not need anyone so what the hell is wrong with me and why am I staying on even though it’s clearly wrong and what are the chances of a happy ending do you know or can he give me a promise there will be one and if he can’t am I not supposed to cut my losses and salvage my pride because pride might be all I have left at the end of the affair.

I hate it how even when things are going great there’s a voice at the back of my head questioning how a man can break the rules and love and be shared by two women at the same time and carrying on per normal while throwing my life into upheaval and turning me into a jealous freak.

I hate it when you want to talk things out with someone but he seems distracted and you get half-hearted responses telling you they’re rushing off somewhere important which would imply that whatever you had to discuss is trivial and which frustrates you but you cannot show it because they never said out loud they aren’t going to discuss did they and it’s not as if they don’t care no they just have more important things to do.

Please Don't Judge Me

I was supposed to meet my Sis today to talk but I got scared and lied to her saying I couldn’t make it. I know, I’m just buying time. But I really don’t know how else to manage this.

I am ashamed for my loved ones to see me involved with a married man. I am afraid that having found out the situation I am in, they will want me to leave Matt. And I am scared to death, to see the look of disappointment, when I tell them “I can’t”.

Crash and Burn

I know I haven’t been writing for a while, but it’s not because I didn’t want to. My mind’s not been quite itself lately, and I have had difficulty putting my thoughts down. Maybe that’s how it is, when you are just “cruising along”. You don’t really THINK, until the bloody truck in front of you emergency brakes.

Anyhow, I am supposed to meet my sis “to talk” tomorrow and to say that I am “worried”, is laughably an understatement. The profile of my sis (wife, mother of two, married young) isn’t likely to win me many sympathy votes. Not that I am deluded enough to think I deserve any of course. I hardly think that she will tolerate the romantic-true-connection-intimacy-shared-soul justifications I have aplenty of, if nothing else.

I can only hope that my sis can understand, even if she disagrees.

Argh!!!!!!!!!!!!I wish that I had no one to answer to except myself and the other. I loathe being judged or told what to do. I want freewheeling recklessness, stolen time, the sheer liberation of unaccountability.

I want to believe that all that's fair in love, that as long as what I’m doing feels right, it probably is.But no, ET, this is planet Earth, remember?

Coming Clean

It's been bugging me, the lie I told my sis. I hate to lie, lest of all to her.

The relationship I have with my sis is a strange one. Although we don't hang out or do things together, I have always found it easy to tell her about the happenings in my life, just so she'd know. Even when I go to her with problems, it is merely to inform her - no, I don't expect her to help. And neither does she offer to help. And it's simply because she thinks I can handle it on my own. I appreciate that.

So after my third glass of red wine at Balaclava, I decided to tell her the truth about Matt. I sent her a drunken message. Her reply: “We need to talk.”

I Lied

I told a lie today.

My mum told my sis that I was seeing a new guy recently and my sis starting grilling me about him, what he did, how I got to know him etc. It was all fine, until she asked: "Why is he still single at his age?" I winced and replied: “Recent break-up.”

I know. I wish I hadn’t lied too. Because as lies goes, they only get bigger. This little lie may well epitomize the web of lies I must necessarily weave this point forward.

The Matrix

I realized today during lunch with my sis and her family, how different it is being in an affair with Matt, versus being in a marriage.

Lunch started off well enough with my sis and brother-in-law making idle conversation that weren’t all that thought provoking but which I suppose were necessary to fill in the silences. To note, this is atypical of my dynamics – we don’t talk much about the REAL issues.

Anyway, Little Noddy was restless and expectedly, he decided to stir things up a bit by throwing a tantrum and refusing to eat his lunch. Now, patience has never been a trait of my sis’ and in recent weeks, my brother-in-law’s tolerance of her impatience has somewhat waned. It came as little surprise then, after half-hearted attempts at coaxing Little Noddy to eat, that my sis and brother-in-law launched into a fight.

I suddenly lost my appetite. Was this what marriage and family are about? And is this the frustration Matt felt in his marriage? You see, I recognize that what Matt and I have is plainly, his escape from REALITY. Reality being his marriage and family and the frustrations that come with them, which on sober occasions I actually think are part and parcel of life and really, no reason to seek solace in another woman.

On the other hand, our world is surreal. When we are together, we can indulge in each other and pretend that the world around us is non-existent. But this also means that I am not the one he experiences LIFE with. I tend to think that it’s the hard times, rather than the good, that bring people closer. That’s why I know that he must never just compartmentalize me in that part of his world where babies-don’t-need-nappy-changes and romance-rules.

On my way home from lunch, I couldn’t resist buying four tubs of ice cream home. Yes, I’m ashamed to say I purged again. Why? I think you know better than I allow myself to acknowledge.

Cruising Along

I do not know where my relationship with Matt is going, but I know I am falling for him as each day passes. This is no longer a romantic fling, and to a certain extent that scares me. It’s anybody’s guess when the ride will end. And where it ends, I have a feeling I'll likely not like. That said, call me wilful or self-destructive if you like, but I don’t want the ride to end just yet. Till then, indulge me while I cruise along.

Dan: And you left him, just like that?
Alice: It's the only way to leave. "I don't love you anymore. Goodbye."
Dan: Supposing you do still love them?
Alice: You don't leave.
Dan: You've never left someone you still love?
Alice: Nope.

Meeting Her

I met the missus today. Yes, it’s totally warped, but I did. Matt told me this morning, that his wife wanted to go “check out the band at Balaclava”. At first, I was livid. I felt as if she was attempting to intrude into my world, and one in which up till now was inaccessible to her. But later, I thought, why not? I wanted to meet her and to be honest, no matter place to meet than on my home ground where I’m most comfortable in, where I know I thrive.

I do not know when it stopped being a mistake and became a war.

She is not far from how Matt had described her. Pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way, simply dressed with a pleasant-enough disposition. The kind I would want to marry and care for the rest of her life, if I were a man.

Suddenly, I realized it’s not such a good thing, putting a face to she-who-shall-not-be-named.

Devastated

My test results came back today. I have Chalmydia.

Seed of Doubt

Beanstalk asked me yesterday: “Why is he with you?”Uncharacteristically, I had no smart-ass reply for his question. In fact, I looked away. The hardest part about carrying on with Matt is attempting to justify our being together. Maybe I am in denial, but I hate to believe that it is about lust, boredom, or even loneliness. But yet, I cannot find better reasons.I never meant it to happen.

I do not, as a rule, moralize myself. But I am also not delusional enough to say that this is right “as long as we’re in love”. You see, I AM aware that there are people, children even, involved who may get hurt. And that I SHOULD absolve myself of blame by walking away. So what now?I wish I knew. The better part of me tells me this is wrong, that I have to end it. This is the part that tells me:

(i) “If he can do it to his wife, he can do it to you too.”
(ii) “Think of the kids.”
(iii) “What future is there?”
(iv) “There you go again!”

But the other part of me just wants to be willful. This part of me alters between acknowledging the eventuality of getting heart-broken, and believing in the idealistic possibility of enduring bliss.

I Miss Him

Maybe it's the intensity of the past two weeks, but I really miss him. He flew off to LA this afternoon. He'll be back on Sunday morning - not soon enough.

We’ve been hanging out a lot. At least I feel it’s A LOT. After been single for so long, it’s strange having somebody around. Somebody I have to be accountable to (with respect to my “vices” at least), somebody who calls to check where I am, someone that makes me think I’m not so self sufficient after all. My mum’s met him too – remember my drunk MOS night - she actually likes him. Beverly thinks he’s good for me – that he’ll put a brake on my excessive partying.

But honestly, is drinking copious amounts of alcohol and smoking like a chimney necessarily worse evils than seeing a married guy? And a seemingly happily married one at that (think loving wife-adorable kids). Where are my scruples?And moral reproach aside, should I be playing with fire AGAIN?

But he’s so sweet.I’m afraid I’ll get used to having him around. After all, all relationships with “unavailable” men tend to have expiry dates. Yes, stupid-voice-in-my-head. I do hate you.

Getting Together

It's official. After last night, we are together.

I brought Matt to Pling's birthday party today. Pling is one of my dearest friends, and although I have a feeling that Pling would freak out if she knew Matt was married, I really wanted them to meet each other. I didn't however, expect to get my first taste of "being caught" so soon (It's scary, how small Singapore is.)

As it turns out, Pling's husband, Nik had invited his old friend, CH, who also happened to to be Matt's colleague. When Matt walked into Pling's apartment to see CH, he was markedly startled. Fortunately, CH seemed to "understand" the situation and he kindly feigned ignorance.

Confession - Mine

Matt’s been so nice that my conscience got the better of me today, and I told him about the one-night-stand. After I told him, he was quiet for a long while.

"Are you angry?" I asked. "No, I just need some time to accept this. He's my colleague. I'll have to face him." He couldn't meet my eyes. "And I think you should go check to see if you caught anything. Because Daryl's been sleeping around half the globe."He added.

I froze. He put his arm around me. "I don't mean anything, just concerned about you. Don't worry, I'll go with you."

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Tonight, he came to my place and we kissed long and hard. He held me so close I thought I would break. I felt so lucky having him there with me. I thought of all the nasty things Daryl had said about me and pushed the bad thoughts out by hugging Matt closer.

Touched by an Angel

I woke up with a major headache today. The moment I opened my eyes, I felt a sense of dread overcome me. Boy did I have a lot of explaining to do.

Matt called me shortly after I woke up and he came over to my place with breakfast. Initially, we just sat around eating kaya toast and laughing over my drunken antics the night before. Then, his face took on a serious look. “I have to call Daryl back”, he told me. My heart sank. Would Daryl tell him about the one-night-stand we had?

“No worries, I’ll just see what he has to say.” He walked away to make the call. The next ten minutes seemed to drag forever. When he came back from making the call, his face was grim. “What did he say?” I asked. And Matt told me what Daryl said. (Lies, all lies the bastard had come up with to protect himself. I don’t care to repeat them here.) Daryl had not, however, mentioned the one-night-stand to Matt. I asked Matt: “Do you believe what he told you?”

Matt replied: “I believe in what I see and am getting to know.”

Drunk at MOS

I got drunk last night.

Mickey had asked me to join him at MOS, and chivas really does run like water there. A few enthusiastic “bottom-ups” later, I was tipsy and messaged Matt (don’t ask me why he was the first person that came to mind) asking him to send me home.

Unfortunately, Daryl was there at MOS too, more drunk than I was. When I told him I was going home, he grabbed my hand and refused to let go for a good half an hour. Matt called me when he couldn’t find me, and in my panic, I blurted “Daryl refuses to let me go!”

I really shouldn’t have done that. Because the next thing I know, Matt had called Daryl and I have no idea what they were talking about over the phone. I don’t remember how I got home tonight, except that Matt had to call my mum on my handphone so she’d open the gate for me.

Familiarity

We have been seeing each other a lot lately. After the movie on Monday, we arranged to meet at Balaclava again tonight. Although he was “there with friends” and I was seated with my friends, it was as if we were there “together”. After Balaclava, I went for supper with his friends and him. When he sent me home, I couldn’t resist giving him a friendly hug. He held me longer than he should have. But the embrace felt good, safe.

First Contact

Over MSN last week, we had arranged to catch a movie today.

The dynamics between us seemed to have changed. After he had confessed to straying before, he felt more real than ever. Although I still cannot understand why he did what he did, I felt strangely closer to him.

When he put his hand on mine in the cinema, I did not pull away.

Confession - His

Matt messaged me this morning to tell me that he was back from NYC. He asked if I was free to meet him for dinner. We had been MSN-ing each other the whole week and he had bought me my favorite Krispy Kremes.

He took me to Olive Ristorante at Labrador Park. We sat there till late, talking and sipping red wine. The wine relaxed us and we talked freely.

The “incident” with Daryl had left me with a bad impression of pilots. I voiced my generalization to Matt (without telling him about the one-night-stand) and he agreed. Curious, I asked him if he had ever strayed before. Looking embarrassed, he nodded. He told me that about a year ago, he had had an affair with an air stewardess called Peggy. The affair had lasted a year.

In the car later, as he sent me home, he asked what I thought of his confession. I told him that I wasn’t surprised. He turned to look at me and said: “Just because I have a happy family doesn’t mean I am happy.”

The Player

I bumped into Daryl at Balaclava tonight. Daryl is a guy I had a one night stand with one drunken night a couple of months ago. When I first knew him, he told me that he was unmarried and unattached. The morning after, however, he confessed he had a wife.

Daryl is also a pilot with SIA. In fact, he is in the same A345 fleet as Matt. No, I do not intend to tell Matt about Daryl.

Meeting for Coffee

We met for coffee at Cosy Bay today. I was apprehensive about meeting him again so soon, but I figured he just wanted to know me better as a friend.

I like talking to him. Conversation with him flows easily, without the usual awkward silences you get with new people you meet. He makes me feel at ease, and I find myself opening up to him. We talk about NTU life, his experience growing up in the kampong and he even told me about his problem with his dad who has a second family in Indonesia.

On my part, I told him about my father’s womanizing, my mother’s ignorant bliss and also about my hand*. It didn’t seem to perturb him. In fact, he seemed to think I had done well, having accomplished what I had given the adverse circumstances. He likened it to his experience of fighting his family’s poverty.

I thought to myself, we could become good friends.

*I had meningitis when I was seven years old, and as a result am unable to control the movements of my left hand.

First Encounter

I was introduced to Matt by an acquaintance at Balaclava tonight. Like all the “friends of friends” I meet at Balaclava, I do not have much of a first impression of him. In fact, I remember saying a cool “Hi”, before walking away to join my friends at another table.

It was only later, when my friends and I went to MOS and we joined them at their table, that we started talking. He was friendly. I learnt that he was a pilot flying with Singapore Airlines, and since I used to be with the same Airline, the two of us were soon exchanging funny anecdotes about our work. We also exchanged numbers.

Later, he joined me and Didi at Zouk (we got a little carried away club-hopping). At Zouk, I asked him the all-important question: “Are you married or attached?” To his credit, he replied without hesitation: “Yes, I’m married.” Nonetheless, I remember standing a little further away from him.

At supper, we had fun talking about his two kids, my little nephew, and all topics wholesome and platonic. He told me that it was his first time at Balaclava, and that it was more than a year since he clubbed so late. As I took a long drag from my cigarette, he told me that he was a health freak who worked out a lot and hence didn't really drink.

What crossed my mind, as he walked me home at 6am, was how different I was from the bona fide “Family Man” beside me.