Being the Other Woman

Being the Other Woman and Being the Footstool


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A lot of grown women, young and old, pride themselves on being some man’s second hand crusted up snot rag.

They cajole themselves and their half-a-self-serving would-be lifelong mates with the idea of the whole clandestine undercover co-op membership thing- a club of 3, 4, sometimes even 10 people, who love the main dude as though he’s the only living thing with a penis within a 50-block radius- that he has cultured diamonds in his asshole and gives it like no other can or could.

I’ve been to countless message boards and websites offering “affair support” and a release for women to express their braggart-style doldrums and philandering, fruitless and expeditious trysts, whose durations seem to either die out quicker than one can sustain the fleeting erection, or hang around with absolutely nowhere to go until the bitter day they die. Either way, both situations end in a big fat goose egg.

I was the “other woman” one time and to be honest with myself and everyone around me to say that not a single second of it ever felt good enough for me is an under-exaggeration.

I, like many others, wasted an irrevocable amount of time with someone who had nothing more to give me than what I settled for. Let me say that one more time because it’s worth repeating:

I wasted an irrevocable amount of time with someone who had NOTHING more to give me than what I was willing to settle for.

The tomfoolery of it was the excitement, and it was also the failure and ruin- nothing could ever come of it that wasn’t the result of something that wasn’t right or allowed to begin with.

The instance in which we were “drawn” together was forbidden (which was the attraction), what we did behind everyone’s back was forbidden, and had anything worked out the way I planned (married men don’t have the desire nor the capacity to plan) in all my delusional grandeur, had it ever materialized, would have been forbidden. None of our friends, family or people among our social circle who knew us would ever warm to the idea that we could be together in a virtuous relationship- because we behaved in an unruly mischievous way from the start.

It’s like the sister sleeping with the sister’s husband, or the “poor” wife of a lowlife bum who leaves town on short notice to sleep with his best friend’s girlfriend in some covert sleazy motel operation – these people inevitably ruin lives and not just their own. So how on earth would anyone warmly commend or come to accept these people along with the disastrous decisions they made?

Just examine the lives of the English royal family. That ought to be enough to school people on how to act, yet they still think their affairs are one-of a kind and special and will always end up much different because “their situation is different”.

You’re Only Ever Good For What’s Convenient At the Time

Men don’t plan affairs, not in the general sense. They’re barely able to make plans with the women who are at the center of their lives, much less someone who comes along in the form of an illicit surprise visit or underhanded unsuspecting circumstance.

Most men will tell you “it just happened”- and 99 times out of 100 he’s telling you the truth. Some floozie came along who just happened to be there at the opportune time and the purple blood entered his dick causing the logic to flip in the pre-frontal cortex part of his brain.

And if they do seek out a lascivious liasion, calculatedly and unapologetically, it’s because he’s not satisfied with something. Make no mistake- an affair is a bandaid- something he’s trying to patch up and ignore- FOR NOW. He’s still going to wind up back with his wife/girlfriend because you are beneath (the step stool) that which he needs to prop himself up- an ego boost, a place to deposit his sperm, an escape from boredom or stress, a distraction- something different to remedy a different set of circumstances- something he is finding much too difficult to face.

You’re Automatically Reduced to Something Lesser Than What You’re Essentially Resorting to Having to Beg Him to Be

Do you think it’s complimentary to your reputation or psyche (his or yours), the fact that you have to bargain with him for his time and attention? He can and will only afford you what he deems will not inherently or potentially damage his relationship. Therefore, he can’t call you when you want or need him to, he can’t spend the night, and above all, he can’t be your man otherwise HE WOULD, TODAY.

And when you wait around for him to give you permission to be a part of his day for an unenviable and constrained amount of time, isn’t that saying “I will take my tablescraps and my dollar/pesos conversion and I’ll like it, thank you“?

I’ll do and accept whatever you want.” Yet, you go home crying about it and can’t sleep at night anyway.

Beg, grovel, plead, settle- it’s all the same. It’s all a settlement for much less than what you expect. He knows it too.

You’re Guaranteed to Be Given a Reduced Amount of Everything You Think Amounts to the World

He told me I was the one and if the timing was different, he would definitely be with me.

He said that he didn’t love his wife- that I was the only one he ever loved but didn’t know it until now.

He will leave her when things settle down a bit. When he isn’t so bogged down with obligations, he will be with me. After all, he said he would and he’s never lied to me before.

Never lied to you before? He lies to HER every single day. What makes you think he isn’t lying to you?

What he’s really saying is:

If the timing was any different, I wouldn’t be with anyone at all right now, except for some sex.

I don’t love my wife but I don’t love you either. How could I? I don’t have the time.”

I’m not going to leave because things are perfect right now. She’s unsuspecting and you’re completely willing. What more could a guy ask for?

You’re Not Freeing Yourself Up For Peace of Mind Nor the Right Man to Come Along

When you can’t concentrate on your work day to day, or when you’re running through every little scrap of correspondence and bit of information he left behind- some minute clue or small piece of the entire “leading you to believe” puzzle, he’s busy hauling the groceries in, fixing the water heater, sitting down to dinner with her and his kids, and laying in bed sound asleep post-orgasm after the pumping he laid on her while he imagined he was burying it in you.

While it’s possible that the man does indeed have feelings and emotions stirring abound inside himself for you, he undoubtedly has the same for her. OTHERWISE HE WOULDN’T REMAIN THERE.

And when you spend all your time believing the road to nowhere is leading to paradise, you become focused on the journey and not the “snags, bumps, or forks in the road”- men who will come along and actually want to love you and be with you- MEN WHO WILL MARRY YOU AND COMMIT TO YOU.

When you’re swept up in the exhaustive draining bullshit you inevitably subsume when you have an affair, you don’t have the time, the logical thought process, and the objectivity you need to see what it is you’re never going to have.

An affair is a cop-out. It is a second choice. It is a repressive means to an end. And it is never ever what you want it to be. Ask anyone who has had one and they will undoubtedly tell you they were met with a larger degree of disappointment than they felt any sense of satisfaction.

An affair is nothing, whether you want to put stock in it or not.

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