Leaving

I have accepted a new job. One closer to home, which makes it much more practical.
Also? This relationship is way too much to me and it is more and more dangerous by the second.

If someone at work found out he would lose his job and that is not ok with me. (I would lose my job too, I think, but jobs at my level are much easier to find than jobs at his... clearly... it took me less than two weeks to interview and get another job).

People can see that there is something between us and it is really only a matter of time before someone actually catches on... and even if it didn't make it all the way up the gossip chain (which it would) it would ruin the just-now-healing bonds in the department. They have been through a lot of shit in the past 2 years or so, and this would not go over well.

I am terrified that I am going to lose him... though he has been so sweet and so quick to reassure me. We have plans to meet, and there are some options.

We talked about it today. We talked about how this relationship took us both by surprise. After the careful way we talked and planned and negotiated the terms of our physical relationship the love part just showed up. I knew I was going to love him from the beginning, but I didn't know it would hit me this hard. I didn't know that I would trust him this much... I didn't know that I would want him to not be married anymore. I didn't know that I would ever want a man in my house again. I didn't know that I would be so naked and exposed to him.

And he didn't know that he would fall in love with me. That he would ever even consider leaving her and coming home to me...

After our trip we both came home shaken and stunned by how good it was together. Today I told him that this was not going to get better. Every time we see each other is only going to further cement what we have together and it's just going to be that much harder to walk away.

It is too soon now for permanent decisions... but there is a decision point looming over us and I am as scared of losing him as I am that he might actually choose me.

three

I write these stupid little poems for him... I fold them up and drop them on his desk and walk away without saying anything at all. He loves them and I love writing them for him...

I
this tiny part of me
waits with ache for your hands
your lips, your tongue

this small core of pink
presses forward to find the heat of you
flushes dark, growing stronger
by the kiss

this hidden love for you pulses
catching and holding my breath
waiting for release.

II
I want to wake with you
and sketch the story of us
on the soft skin of your belly,
drawing lines between kisses with
my tongue, my hair painting this
scene on your chest as I move.
I want the rain to start
soft around us. I want you to
build my thunder slow.
I want to ride out this storm
sweet in your arms
I want to sleep again to the sound
of the wind, curling around you
like a secret.

III
This carefully concealed love
has stripped me of my senses,
pushed me naked
all the way to need.
Needing you grows solid, pulses
stronger than a heartbeat.
It moves me beyond possibility
beyond sanity and reason
beyond our sensible agreements.
I just want you.
I don't want to breathe until
you kiss me, don't want to sleep
without touching you, don't want
to wake to the days without you.

The Trip

It was actually sort of perfect. In a tragic, heartbreaking sort of way.
I think I was hoping to find some evidence that he is not exactly what I want. I think I was really hoping to be happy to be back home alone.

The first night was our first date... because everything is all out of order in this relationship. We ate Chinese food and walked around the Plaza. I stopped at The Body Shop and he stopped at a bookstore and bought me a book. Seriously. A book. The most amazing first present ever. We went to a movie and walked back to the car. I don't think I've ever had a better first date.
The best part was that he never once got impatient about anything. Not when we didn't know where we were going, not when I wanted to stop at The Body Shop, not when we figured out that we walked three blocks in the wrong direction...
The weather was perfect and he was fun and sweet and it was all just... really good.

And I love him... so much more than I'm supposed to.

The conference was good, and I got to nap in the afternoons and sometimes he napped with me and sometimes I would wake and find him there, just waiting to kiss me. My favorite part was falling asleep with him; talking in the dark and kissing and just loving him until we fell asleep.
His favorite part was how I took care of him in the mornings... he doesn't drink coffee in the mornings, but he does drink chocolate milk every day so I packed a cooler and made sure there was chocolate milk for him and water for me and also strawberries and cheese and crackers and all of the things that you need to survive four days away from home in a hotel with questionable catering skills. While he was showering I would put milk out for him and then brush my teeth and get ready. We were surprisingly compatible. Crazy compatible.

He loved that I had milk ready for him. And I loved that he bought me a book. He loved that I wanted to watch movies with him in the evenings. I loved that we get ready at the same speed in the morning. And we both loved a thousand other little sweet things. That's the thing. The grand gestures are easy, but the small things - the things you don't even think about - are the things that make relationships great.

Driving home Thursday was rough. We were both quiet and didn't talk much at first. Halfway home I felt this panic start. I didn't want to ruin how great everything had been by crying and I didn't want to pretend to be fine when I wasn't. We were listening to the Eels and driving past fields and then he just started to talk. He said he was overwhelmed by how he feels about me and that this relationship took him completely by surprise. He said he was all twisted up and didn't want to go home.

We both cried a little and then we were quiet again. I know that he is not going to leave his wife. I know that he will untwist and be reasonable again and someday I will be in his past.

But now I know what it feels like to fall asleep with him and wake up with him and kiss him every day as long as I want... and I want that back. I want him here. I want him to come home to me at night and I want to take care of him.

Aaaaaaaand back to reality. He does not belong to me. He is not coming home to me. And that is going to break my heart.

Oh. Wow.

One more week to our trip.
We have both been excited about it, and have been counting days since we were 21 days out. We are also both very nervous about this time together.
He is worried that I will get tired of him... and of course I am worried about the same thing. He snores and I snore and we both have disgusting, human bodily functions that we will not be able to contain for four days and three nights. I also have those occasional pesky night terrors that pull me from bed gasping and crying.

The things I'm looking forward to the most are the kissing and the hanging out.

Oh. And also the sex.

We've only had sex once... well, three times if you count phone sex (which he is damn good at)... but there has really just been that one time and while it was great, it was the first time and it was so soon after this whole thing started and we know each other so much better now. It's going to be great.

Last Monday I had twenty minutes with him. I thought it was just going to be another one of our kissing sessions, but then he had his hand up my skirt and his mouth on my nipple and oh. Wow.
In my experience, guys are way too aggressive when they get there. He was gentle and sweet and perfect and he made me come so hard. Then he kissed me and held me... and then just before he had to go I dropped to my knees and gave him the fastest blow job I have ever given. It had to be... he had 3 minutes to get to his meeting.

Later he said it was the best of his life...

Worth It

Plans gone wrong.
There was an event today that he was going to sign up for and then come to me instead. He was so cute about it, too... he said he sort of wanted to go out, to a movie and to lunch and to have a real day with me. He was worried that I would be disappointed that he didn't want to spend all eight hours in bed. The "in bed" part is great and fun and wonderful, but I love the idea of just spending (unobserved) time with him.
Because all eyes are on us at work.
It is irritating and expected and I have to be more careful about how I look at him. And he has to be more careful about how close he stands to me.

But then a class that he has been waiting for was scheduled for today.

I got myself ready (oy, the shaving) and I packed sheets in my bag. We were hoping that the class would be over a few hours early and the office would be deserted and we could lock ourselves away for a few hours. I had work to do anyway, so even if it didn't work out I could at least be productive.

It didn't work out.

But I did get to make out with him on breaks and briefly at lunch.
I wish we could have the office to ourselves every day...

The Best of You

On the phone... I said, "I feel like I get the best of you."
He said, "You really do."
And before I could stop it I said, "I love the best of you." And then I stopped breathing.
"You do?" he asked.
I exhaled, and said, "Yes. I do."

* * *

Last week we had been breathless and sweaty on a couch in the office. He had another meeting, I just needed him to touch me. He went out to have dinner with another manager and I sent him a text message that I was clocking out and removing my bra at 5:30.
When he got back he entered the room with such force of need that we didn't even speak.
This week we met again in the laundry room. He pressed me against the washing machine and he held me so close. I said, "Oh I do love you. I'm so sorry."
He asked why I was sorry. I said, "Because that was not part of the plan. I was not supposed to love you."
He said, "You know I love you back, right?"
No, actually. I had not known that. It made me dizzy and I had no idea what to say. kissed him again, hard, and then I left him there. I got in my car and was halfway home before I could feel my face again.

* * *

He has been very clear about the fact that he was not going to leave his wife. And until recently that was not even something that I thought about. But now I want him to belong to me. Now I want him in every part of my life.
And I know. I know that I am broken and if he was free I would be more scared than I have ever been. I know that he is not going to be free and that our little fantasy world where we sleep until noon on the weekends and then make love all afternoon is not going to happen.
But we have talked about it. We have talked about where we would live and the steps we would have to take since we could not be together openly and work together. We have talked about the kids and the cats and the life we would have.

* * *

Now we have conversations about the terrible parts of our personalities and routines to try to use reality to make the fantasy less appealing.
So far the only real obstacles are my student loan debt and his weird racial issues.

Plans

It is getting to be more difficult at work. Some people have noticed a difference in us and we are doing what we can to deflect the rumors.
It is so hard not to kiss him every morning. Its hard not to touch him all day long.
We try not to sneak away to make out at work, but it is so tempting. Our time together is so limited and we have to be so careful... there have been a few times in secret places when nobody is around, and every time he touches me or whispers something I love him just a little more.
Oh yes. I love him. And not just a little bit.
And it's not just the secrecy and the kissing.
He calls me late at night and sometimes we watch television together; Lost and At The Movies and Justified. We sync up our recordings and talk through commercials.
But there are plans in the works. In May there is a three-day conference about four hours away and we are the only two who have signed up to go. He also talked the Powers That Be into letting us go up a day early so that we wouldn't have to leave so early in the morning.
Oh yes, four days and three nights alone and away.
I am so impatient and so focused on this trip that I can't think of anything else.
We talk about it and count the weeks spread out before us. This oasis of us in the distance.

Anything

He found a way to come to me.
I bought new underwear, new sheets, new area rugs for the bedroom.
The usual disorganization of my life does not lend itself to the illusion of fantasy... so I lit candles and removed as much cat hair as I could find.
I gave him directions.
I moved through my house restlessly, imagining him there and willing the time to pass until he arrived and then to stop so that I could have him all to myself.
I cleaned my house and made the bed and shaved my legs and waited.
And then he was there. Tall and smiling and so very real in my living room.
We were both nervous and a little awkward at first, but the kissing started and everything just sort of fell into place.
He was sweet and nervous and wonderful, and he made me come so hard I cried. And he held me and kissed me again so sweetly...
After, we talked and laughed and touched and kissed some more. I haven't wanted a man to stay the night in so long, but this one could have stayed forever.
Of course, the fact that he could not possibly stay more than a few hours made it very safe for me to want him to stay forever.
Just before he had to go the kissing became more fevered and desperate.
I love the sounds he makes when he comes.
I love the way he moves inside me.
I love the way he laughs and kisses my forehead when I say something clever.
I love his hands in my hair and the way he smells.
I tried to stay in the mindset that this could be the only time we had together and that I should just enjoy every second for what it was - a sweet, temporary, lovely moment.
But every moment made me want him more.
I expected to feel alone and empty when he left and I was surprised to find that I just felt complete and happy.
I am in so much trouble.

The Kissing

Oh the kissing. Kissing is what I miss the most when I am alone. Kissing is apparently what he has missed the most about being married.
Oh yes, the kissing.
We were both working late... he had a meeting, I had a deadline... and we found ourselves in our separate offices, texting back and forth like teenagers.
"I don't suppose you'll be alone anywhere dark for about five minutes," I wrote and then I waited.
He responded with a location... and I was out of my seat and down the hall before I could reason myself out of it.
I got there first and sat on a table in the dark, my heart beating faster than I thought possible. No words in my mind. No arguments, no hesitation. Just need. I needed him to put his arms around me and find my mouth with his. I needed him to kiss my neck and my face with an unbearable sweetness and I needed him to whisper, "Oh. Wow." against my hair.
And he did.
Five minutes in the dark, kissing and breaking every rule and boundary and then he was off to his meeting and I drove home in the dark, reliving every second of his mouth and tongue. For an hour all could think was, "More, more, more."
Just before I got home he sent another text, "OK, I need more."
And I thought, "Anything."
Anything. Just kiss me like that again. Need me like that again.
Anything.

The Beginning

It started out as pretend. A teasing comment that made me blush and laugh as it was supposed to. I knew he was joking, but there was a current of truth in the way he held my eyes for just a fraction longer than he should have. Something deep inside me flopped over and I started having dreams about his hands and mouth. I started wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

He says it started with my interview. He walked into the office and something clicked in his head. The following several months just sort of reinforced his initial impressions. And he says I am the first person to call his bluff. Turns out he wasn't entirely bluffing.

He is funny. And careful and kind. He is insecure in a sort of goofy way. But somehow he doesn't lack self confidence, or at least doesn't appear to. He talks a good game. And he's smart. And he's interested in me.

He is a mistake. Not, certainly, the biggest mistake of my life. Definitely the biggest mistake of my brand-spanking-new career. I haven't even picked up my diploma yet.

He is a secret. My biggest yet. The secret I can only tell my oldest friend and write about so anonymously here.

And I will be hurt. Maybe badly. But there have been other bad hurts and I have managed to make it through so far. My past relationships are a big part of what makes this horrible mistake seem not so bad. Here is an opportunity to have great sex with a man who does respect me, will communicate with me and won't expect me to become some watered down version of myself so that I can fit more clearly in the wife jar.

I'm really not anti-marriage. I should say that too. Some people do well with marriage. Some people do it so well that they keep doing it over and over. I married twice - once too young to the father of my child and once too quickly to an alcoholic who died suddenly a few years later. I decided marriage may just not be my forte.

I thought that now, in my 30's, with a teenager and two failed marriages there would be less pressure to remarry. I was wrong.

The problem is that while I want to be adored and I want affection (and sex) I don't really want the strain and obligations of a relationship. Not right now.

Beginning a relationship with my (quite married) boss is not smart or dignified or recommended. But it will certainly be interesting.