I miss you.
Since Dday, I have always wondered if CEO still thinks of me. As childlike as this may sound, I couldn’t fathom that men in general, simply shut out memories forever. That they are THAT capable of compartmentalizing an entire relationship in milliseconds. Logically, there are many male bloggers that wax and wane about their AP’s, so I know some men do. But they tend to come across as somewhat Emo, which CEO definitely was not.
There were times that I justified him as being some pathological liar or sociopath- just to rationalize things he said to me, or specific conversations we had throughout our relationship together. But deep down, I knew he wasn’t. I was kidding myself (although all the data says, sociopaths comprise more CEO’s than any other profession- just sayin).
This question has lingered throughout the years and I’ve wondered on and off, “Does he still think of me? Like I still think of him?”
After my last post, I decided that I should start writing again after a commenter mentioned they were happy to see I was still writing. For me, the only way I can tell my story is to go back. Go back in time and log in to things I haven’t read in a long, long time.
And there it was. The answer that I’ve always wondered about…
Last active 1 week ago
My heart stopped and I could barely breathe as I saw his name, with the log-in details showing. I never thought in a million years I would ever see that. I haven’t logged in for years and the one time I do- it shows he was just there? It hit me like a ton of bricks.
And then the realization set in: his timing was not lost on me…it was within a day or two of my birthday.
He’s thinking of me. I know it. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be logged into there.
And no- this doesn’t change anything. We are both where we should be: with our spouses. And no- I won’t reach out to him. If he wanted to talk to me, he knows how to find me. For the record, I would absolutely speak with him. Too much damage and hurt has occurred to not seek true closure. To wish my friend well.
But friends- my head is spinning…with CEO most certainly on my mind.
And me- on his.
I wrote this on May 26, 2014 but never sent it to CEO for some reason. We wrote to each other every single day back then. Not sure why I didn’t sent this, but I stumbled upon it today. Moments like these still happen- Reminders! They are always popping up- even still. Reading this over again, it’s almost like it never really happened. It feels so far away and yet not, if that makes sense.
This use to happen quite a lot after we first met. I would be busy with something. And out of the blue, a memory of you would flash into my mind almost like a photo being taken. It just happened right now, as I was getting ready to go to sleep and turn off my iPad.
It went off like a flash in my mind and made my heart skip several beats. And I found myself half-smiling and half-gasping for air at the same time. I was suddenly back in SF, in our hotel room. It was early morning. White crisp sheets surrounded us. And you turned over to face my back, placing your fore fingers around my panties and pulling them off with such desire. No words were said, other than hearing the vibrations of your breathe against the back of my neck. I remember it now, only I am watching it unfold from above…like a movie. It’s always like a movie for me….
I remember how great it was to wake up like that. To let you take me over and over during our time there. It was raw. It was passionate. Exciting and memorable. It took my breathe away like it did just now, remembering you…your touch…your hands…all over my body as I moaned and panted through every single passionate thrust inside of me.
Every inch of you…every inch of me…together again in our own little world. Holding me down…then kissing me…my neck…then grabbing my ass so tight as you fucked me till every every last drop of cum came out. Turning me over, now face to face, you said, “Kate….you captivate me.” You didn’t need to say those words, although it made my heart smile. I felt it too.
You took my breathe away that morning. And gave me such butterflies that it felt like I had a lump stuck at the top of my throat. Just seeing the picture again in my head…..white sheets, black silk thong being pulled off….me and you. A rush of excitement pulses through my chest similar to the feelings you get when your dropping from a roller coaster.
And just like that, it stops. The picture fades. And I am back in my bedroom getting ready to turn off the light. I don’t want to say goodbye to that memory so I try to fall asleep as fast as I can, so I can see you again in my dreams. And keep reliving the sweet memories over and over again.
CEO took me to a beautiful hotel overlooking the Pacific Ocean during the early lust-filled days of our affair. I remember pulling up to the resort feeling so special as he held my hand in the car. As he drove through the windy roads, traversing through the canyons, the peek-a-boo views of the Pacific ocean glistened in my eyes. As his sportscar purred along the asphalt, I stared at the eroding sandstone cliffs daydreaming.
“Here, this is for you” he said, as he pulled a card out of the middle compartment.
Couldn’t help it.
This millennial was blowing me away. That…was unexpected. Looking back, I can honestly say these little gestures were reminiscent of any early courtship – the kind you see in a normal dating situation.
In that moment, I felt special. Cherished. Appreciated. And damn right sexy as my ecru silk blouse billowed in the salty breeze.
It was a Valentine’s Day card.
His words were those of a smitten man. I blushed. Hard. Then paused for an extremely long time, trying to figure out how I should respond. And honestly, it left me speechless (something that’s a rarity for me). I didn’t know where this relationship was going but I certainly set the expectation in my head that this was sex only.
But CEO kept progressing our pace and moved things forward, like a normal dating relationship where two people are falling for one another. It confused me…but deep down, I loved it. He was so different to my husband, calm with an assertive alpha male way of handling life. It was refreshing. Very, very refreshing.
The valet took his BMW and we walked into the resort looking like a married couple. He went to check in before telling me to head down below. I found us the most perfect table, perched above the cliffs. The glass French doors were open to the Pacific Ocean and it was a stunning view, for a Tuesday morning. Golden sand. Shades of teal and blue. The sound of pounding surf below. He arrived moments later, smiling. Relaxed.
We ordered Mimosa’s and a fruit platter, then talked about his start-up. I remember him making a point of saying, “In my everyday life, I am a man of integrity. I want you to know that.” I think he was trying to convey that he really was a good guy. My gut sussed that out long ago. But obviously, we were two cheating hearts in that moment, so you can debate the merits of that yourself.
The conversation flowed as always. He would occasionally reach over and hold my hand. It was really sweet. These little gestures had long left my marriage. I had forgotten how lovely it felt to be pursued. And he did so in spades. Had it been anyone else, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. But it was him…CEO. And I had a huge soft spot for him that was growing exponentially every week. His sheepish grin melted my heart. Those big brown eyes stared straight into my soul and we had a magnetic connection from day one.
That was three years ago. Seems like yesterday sometimes. Especially when I sit down to write and reminisce.
I have only been back to this city twice now. Each time, barely within the town border. I’ve avoided this city for a long, long time because the memories shared with CEO were perfect here. I’ve been reluctant to ever return, and especially to drive past the resort. Not sure why, other than its quite the distance for me to travel to.
But today, that all changed. I drove past the resort while I took my kids on an outing further afield. It was strange driving past the sign. Almost surreal. My heart didn’t race or anything. Had I visited years ago, that would have been the case. The adrenaline would have been pumping as I relived the memories of what occurred there. The photos flashed throughout my mind like a moving picture book.
Sex on the balcony ✔️
“That was a fantasy of mine.”
Was it? We didn’t talk about this up front. But it felt organic and natural, which is why I went along with it.
The desk ✔️
“Not quite the right height. But A for effort.”
The sofa ✔️
“Kate, that was amazing. Don’t stop grinding my cock like that.”
The corner ocean view suite- king size bed- with seagulls squawking in the distance. While I repeatedly orgasmed as he pounded my g-spot with the Njoy his wife refused to take out of the box ✔️✔️✔️
This time it was like looking through a keyhole to a past time in my life.
Like Alice in Wonderland.
(*CEO would kill me if he knew I took a photo of this card)
I had a dream about Niall last night. And that hasn’t happened in a long, long time my friends. Like in years.
I was walking through the beachside town, passing a little gift shop when all of a sudden, I heard my name being called out.
Glancing back over my left shoulder, there Niall was, standing in front of quaint men’s store which does not exist in real life. My eyes met his and I stood there on the sidewalk stoically, unable and unwilling to react whatsoever. My pupils did not dialate nor did I break out in a huge Cheshire Cat grin. It was as if we were frozen in time, suspended for many moments.
I took a breathe without parting my lips and finally, Niall tilted his head backwards, gesturing for me to meet him outside the store.
I don’t recall thinking anything during that time but my feet suddenly moved. And within a moment, I was sitting down on an ipe bench facing the Pacific Ocean with Niall seated to the right of me.
I didn’t say anything. I just sat there listening to the pounding surf below.
The familiarity was there in an instant, along with his signature cologne. He was dressed sharp, of course- he always knew how to dress. And he still had those baby faced good looks.
He stared at me while I looked out towards the sea. I glanced down and saw that his hands were clasped together, with his legs far apart. He leaned forward onto his elbows, took a deep breathe in and broke our silence.
“Kate, when you have 20 million dollars of your own money sunk into a company, there’s a lot on the line. I wanted to buy the lot behind our house and I had investors breathing down my neck. I’ve been so unbelievably busy…”
As I looked out at the waves, I could see his mouth moving but I could no longer hear what he said. My own thoughts took over, becoming center stage. And they were spinning fast. “Did he really just start this conversation off talking about his bank account? He didn’t even ask you how you’ve been. He didn’t even apologize for the hell he put you through…”
As he continued to speak, I stood up and walked away. Step by step, his voice drowned out amongst the crashing waves. I could tell he had risen and heard the sound of his shoes pivot towards me. But he stopped. I thought for one millisecond that I should turn around, and look at him one last time. But I knew better.
Instead, I continued to walk forward, overcome with a sense of peace. Away from Niall.
As the distance grew between us, he became a smoky shadowy blur. Like a dark cloud way behind me.
I woke up suddenly to Zane grabbing the pillow off my head, smashing his adorable face into mine whispering, “Mama, for Christmas will you buy me a Lego police station?”
Ahhh, real life. My life. I love it!
(Feel free to comment and discern what you think this dream means.)
Tonight, I texted my husband, “Want anything else from Whole Foods?” And he replied asking for a specific craft beer that I had never heard of before. I finally found it on the shelf and as I placed it into my basket, two little girls came running past me. I lost my breathe, not from their beauty, but because they are CEO’s kids. And they look just like him (especially in the eyes).
Yep, I had another run-in friends.
I froze, then stealth glanced the perimeter and saw his wife, now standing in front of the seafood counter with two little girls tugging at her shirt.
Great. Just great.
This has got to be the 10th time I have run into her. It’s like fate keeps bringing us together. I don’t even run into my own friends this much. Statistically, what are the odds? Like nil?
I quickly grabbed my phone and took a pic, because this has become a running joke between my best friend and I. I sent her the photo (it was only the back of her body) and yet her reply was priceless, “OMG! I know who that is! Fuck how on earth do you keep running into her? You don’t even live in that small of a town.”
Before I could reply, it suddenly dawned on me, “Niall could be behind them, perusing the produce section and shopping as a family. Oh geez…please say he is not here. I’m in my workout clothes and sweaty from a 6 mile run…then again, my ass has never looked better.”
I took a deep breathe, turned the corner and there was no Niall to be found. Just all the friendly workers who know me by name, waving to me saying, “Heyyyyy Kate. What’s up?”
I couldn’t help but think…she’s in my territory. There is a huge Whole Foods less than 1 mile from her house and yet, she came to this little neighborhood location.
As I checked out, I half expected for her to end up in my lane. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I pondered back to the time I ran into her over the holidays, both of our kids staring into the same decorated windows during the annual Christmas stroll. And sadly, for the second year running- Niall is never by her side. It’s always just her…and the girls…alone.
He’s a brilliant entrepreneur, but an absentee father and husband. Had we left our spouses and ended up together, I would be just like her.
The following evening, after we got Vivian to bed, we sat down to talk. We both felt that attending marriage counseling was causing more problems than solving them. So we made a pact to sit down every night and keep talking. Till we figured everything out. Including the Why.
It’s probably a good idea to explain right now that my husband is adopted. And although we make no excuses for adultery, we believe it’s been a huge contributing factor. At least in his case. I am not adopted and have no idea how it must feel to be in his shoes. But my husband expressed numerous times during our talks that, “the most important decision that impacted my life was made before I was even born.” Pretty powerful epiphany.
Being adopted shaped a lot of his core beliefs, way more than I ever realized until we started our nightly chats. He has always felt the need to conform, to be a people pleaser. He makes for an excellent employee in that way. His nickname is Switzerland, as he is impartial in everything he does. Very diplomatic. He never pisses anyone off. Everyone genuinely likes him and he is looked upon as “a nice guy”.
A lot of his core beliefs stem from feeling rejected at birth by his biological mother. If anyone really knew the real him, they wouldn’t love him. That is what he told himself. So despite being older and wiser, he still had moments where he went along with the group. Even if it meant going against his values.
He also spoke of wearing a mask. That he felt conflicted and that no one would really love the real him. Faults and all. So he mastered the art of becoming the perfect son and perfect employee throughout his life. He essentially was portraying himself to be one way for fear of rejection. And he had a deep underlying need to be accepted.
Let me set the scene for the first incidence of his cheating. We were living in Europe and had just returned from a trip around the world. We left a month after the 9/11 terrorist attacks and returned nine months later. Jobs were scarce and his industry had crashed. Usually we had jobs lined up as my husbands field was in demand. And most times, he was being offered greater and greater positions as there was a shortage of qualified people in his field. We banked on the fact that we would start work immediately. However, this was not the case. Finding employment was not just difficult, it was proving impossible to find for him. It was like the industry had dried up overnight.
Weeks later, he finally got offered a position: a short term contract. In Africa. Kinshasa to be exact.
For those of you who failed geography, that’s in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Democratic isn’t exactly how I would describe Congo either. It’s a third world country and corruption is rife. There is a lot of fighting going on and you are often guarded by armed security when traveling. I won’t lie, it’s dangerous there.
Since we had traveled through Congo on our trip, we felt it was doable. We weighed the pros and cons, and quite simply, the money was too good to pass up. He would be gone for one month, something our marriage had never dealt with. However, I knew we could handle it. Four weeks and it would be over. The biggest concern at the time was for his general safety.
It wasn’t until the night of his confession that he even told me what really happened on that trip. He came home after four weeks, clearly exhausted. And he managed to give me a synopsis of his time there, which basically revolved around staying in his hotel for fear of being robbed and then being driven each day to the worksite. It was basically work, sleep, rinse, repeat.
He was overseeing a crew of guys, all of whom were from France. They had been working there for months and spoke very little English. Needless to say, he felt like a fish out of water. And clearly out numbered. They would speak in French the entire time, with him clueless as to what they were saying. They had been there so long that they had a dedicated driver who picked them up on the weekends and drove them to dinner, bars etc. and then back to their hotel. My husband watched them go out every night, him staying back at the hotel.
A few weeks into the job, the crew was invited to the embassy for a night out. It was the first time my husband had done anything outside of working and sleeping. And he had a really fun time, and could finally relax as it was surrounded by guards. The biggest fear was being driven back late at night.
For anyone who hasn’t traveled abroad, specifically in a third world country, it’s hard to even grasp what I am describing. But traveling at night can lead to disaster, which is why you are often accompanied by armed security. It’s like nothing you have ever experienced. Your heart is racing every time you see someone lingering on the side of the road, hoping your luck isn’t up and you’re about to be ambushed. It’s like you’re living in the Wild West.
He got home safely that night, but it left him wanting to get out of the hotel more. So when the French guys finally invited him out to dinner, he went along with them and their driver.
They entered the restaurant and ate like kings. These guys clearly knew everyone who worked there, slapping hands and giving high fives. A group of women immediately came over to their table and sat down. In their broken English, they were referred to as their “friends” although from all the kisses and hands on their asses, it was clear to my husband that they were more than that.
The drinks flowed….and he found himself trying to fit into their world. He thought about leaving the group. He felt out of place from the moment he showed up. But the driver was theirs, not his. So it would mean taking a taxi alone, which would be dangerous especially at night. So he stayed. And he drank. And he drank, till eventually he didn’t feel so out of his element.
That night, the French guys said, “she is yours” and “take her back, just give her money for a taxi ride home”. Needless to say, instead of refusing, he went along with it. Partly out of fear. Partly out of trying to fit in with the group. Partly because he had been drinking and not making the best of choices. Shit, there’s a lot of reasons which contributed to his decision in that moment.
Nothing is ever black and white. There are many facets to each of us, to what motivates us to make certain decisions. Nothing is clear cut in the world of adultery.
There are more than fifty shades of grey. I know that much for sure.