I am married to the love of my life. I had a crush on her since we were kids. We dated all through high school. But it was not always so good. When I graduated, we split up. I thought forever and honestly, that's what I deserved.
I fell in love with
about a year later. It helped me get over Erin,
though I never fully was. I asked her to marry me. We got an apartment
together. Then one day, I called up my ex ( Erin)
as I had done so many times before. She would give me a couple of minutes and
then have some imagined reason to get off the phone. She gave me a little more
time this time. I was lonely... I had suspected my fiancé of cheating on me. We
started talking more and more and then we met up... we would sit in the car for
hours talking in some parking lot not too far from my apartment. She was having
sex with her neighbor... it was driving me crazy to hear the stories but I hung
on her every word.
One day, I could not take it anymore. I reached out and held her hand. She did not pull away. We talked forever like that. Then the topic of something more than friendship came up. I rented a hotel room at the Quality Inn (her idea)... we had the most amazing sex.... on the bed... against the wall.... against the dresser... on the desk.... on the bed again.
We did it again a few more times in the apartment... in my bed... on our kitchen table... on our couch. Eventually, I packed up all of my fiancé’s things while she was supposedly out with a friend. The truth is we were both cheating on each other. It hurt. I loved her. But I had to follow my heart. She came home. We talked. She cried. I cried. We had sex one last time… with my finger in her ass (a first)... our way I guess of saying goodbye. I felt guilty for cheating on the woman who I was leaving her for... my ex... now my wife. Ironic, isn't it?
I know I made the right decision. I love my wife. I've loved her my entire life. I may have loved others along the way... but none can even compare to how I love