Too many unanswered questions

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I do not write to meet understanding. My only wish is to express my pain, and hopefully, women with the same problem have more courage to make the right decisions at the right time. Because if they miss it, they will suffer much more and will cause a hundred times more pain to others.

My story is the banalest in this world - a relationship with a married man. Already a former relationship.

It all started 6-7 years ago when I met Him. He was a groom. He and his wife moved into a neighboring apartment. We liked each other right away, even though I'm five years younger than them. We became friends and spent almost all our free time together. I felt that he liked me. Over time, he began to express his sympathy for me more clearly. I did not answer, although I sympathized with him because I always believed in marriage. He is with Her because He has chosen so. Or maybe out of fear? Fear of wanting him more.

The years passed, we continued to be friends. I knew he loved me, despite my more reserved attitude toward him. Two years ago, he surprisingly told me that he loved me and wanted a divorce. I stopped him. I didn't want him to ruin his marriage because of me. Moreover, I did not see any problems with his wife. I attributed it to the fact that he married young and wanted to try something "new". Besides, she was my friend. I didn't want to hurt so much the people I cared about. Some of you may call me a hypocrite and I probably am. I refused to admit that I was the problem. I thought I would not give up. I didn't even admit to myself that I loved him.

I was afraid to want him, to want my life to be his. And so it happened. Each of my subsequent relationships, each disappointment, made me more attached to him. It made me realize that he was the only one for me. But I was scared. And I missed the moment.

Those two years have passed. He was my friend, as I was his friend. I thought that he had managed to overcome his passion for me, to be happy with what he had. She got pregnant. They took out a loan and bought their own place. They moved out. I decided that was the end of my problems. That I will forget it. That I will be able to live without him. But I did not succeed. We continued to see each other, ostensibly friendly. That's how we got to our first night together, to the recognition that we love each other, that we can't do without each other. But he was still married, expecting a child, in another family. I resigned myself to the most hateful, lowest role - that of the mistress.

In the name of the brief moments, I was with him when I was happy. And in the others, he was there - with his wife and his newborn child. I struggled with the idea of how he kisses her, makes love to her, how he enjoys his child. The child who had to be mine. I wanted to stop seeing him, but I couldn't. I knew I was redundant, that I had no place in his life. I told him. He took offense and said he wanted to be happy with me. I didn't know how that was possible. I couldn't imagine it. We never talked about his family, he knew it hurt me. That it makes me feel like those cheap women, with fluffy slippers, waiting calmly and meekly for their lover to cry on their shoulder. And I wasn't like that. Or I refused to realize that I was like that.

We kept seeing each other. We loved each other as much as we could. He was jealous of the very idea of me being with someone else. And I couldn't bear to share him with another. I was going to tell him. But events overtook me. He told her about me. He told her my name. She called me. I endured her insults, I deserved it. She asked me if I would back off if she decided to keep her family. I said yes". For me, he had to be sure of his choice so that one day he would not blame me for what he had lost. As a matter of fact, we had never talked about what we would do if he divorced. I had never asked the question, I was afraid of what it might solve. But he told her. And he decided to try to save his marriage. That he can't do without me, but they are his family.

I understand him. I understand that otherwise, he would have sacrificed everything to be with me. But he didn’t do it. Maybe, he doesn't want to? Or he is afraid? Or he doesn't love me enough? What I don't understand is why did he tell her ?! Deep down, he was never convinced he was going to divorce. Then why did he tell her? Why did he cause her to live her whole life in doubt every time he was late after work, was he with me? Why did he do this to me, why did he break my heart, why did he betray me? Why did he make me stand up to my family, to the whole world, to hear so many insults, if he knew he wouldn't be with me? Did it scare him to take the last step?

I will survive, I will learn to love another. Time heals. I'm young. But his marriage? Will he keep it? Will he be able to be happy, knowing how much pain he has caused to so many people for nothing? Will his wife love him the same way, will she make him happy after all this? Too many unanswered questions. I hope he is happy. I hope he sticks something that has already been broken once. Will he do it? I don't blame him. But I don't think he deserves either of us, what I would have given him and what she gives him. That he ruined his life. And he broke three hearts.

I do not expect to meet understanding. Only reproaches and insults. I will probably happen to be on the other side one day. It is inevitable. But I have suffered, and I continue to suffer. Everyone deserves a lesson. For me, it will be to use the moment, the opportunity, when I have it, not to be afraid, otherwise I will never be happy. And I'm going to hurt a lot of people, even if I don't want to.