He Was My Strongest Weakness

I was 18 when I met him, saw him actually…he walked into the room where I was and my heart stopped for a moment. He literally took my breath away. Of course, I found out soon after that he had a girlfriend, someone that we worked with, someone that I had already been getting to know. Now, I am not a home wrecker or a cheater, it is not in my nature, but I could not stop thinking about him. I learned that their relationship was somewhat tenuous, that she would get angry about silly stuff and “break up” with him or punish him by treating him badly. So, as much as everyone knew that he “belonged” to her, their relationship was definitely an on again/off again thing.

I wish I could remember the particulars of it, how it came about, but I can’t. I just know that after several months of longing, during an “off again” period in their relationship, we started a mutually agreed upon friends with benefits relationship. He loved her, and I knew it, but I could not deny my desire for him, so I plunged in with both feet and didn’t look back. It was amazing, beyond anything I had ever experienced. It went on for a few months. It was intense and passionate, wild and new. We did things that neither of us had ever done before, and as it turns out, have never done again. It was special and sad all at the same time. I never told him that I loved him, not once. I maintained an air of indifference as best I could so that he would not suspect it. I did this because I knew that he would not want to hurt me, and because I knew that he would end it.

I am sure you can imagine what happened next, she came back to him, and he broke off our friendship. Not entirely of course, just the intimacy that I had been surviving on for those few months. I gave him up, without a fight. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I would treat him better, and that he should be with me…but I knew that was futile, so I let him go. I still saw him, them, almost everyday. Working together made life miserable for me on many levels. There is something so pitiful about a broken heart, but even more so when that broken heart is a secret because only a few people had any idea that you were ever in love to begin with. Shortly after we found out that our division was closing down and that we could either transfer or find a new job. They chose to transfer and get married. I chose to find another job. That was it…he was gone.

I never forgot him. My marriage was terrible almost from the get go. After a few rough experiences I rushed into a relationship with my ex-husband based on his words of love, and found out soon after that words were all he had and there was no action behind it. On the nights when I would be in bed with him, I would think back to my boy and our time together. I would wonder if he was happy, or if he was lying in bed with her feeling just as lonely as I did. Don’t get me wrong, I hoped he was happy, I just had watched her manipulate him for so long that I didn’t have high hopes. Eventually I stopped thinking about him so much. It got to maybe only a few times a year. I would hear a song or smell a man’s cologne that would remind me of him. The good memories would come crashing back in a rush and I would relive some of those moments in my mind. In those moments I was happy again, comfortable, content. I was back in his apartment, lying next to him, smelling his cologne, tracing the pattern on his sheets, and smiling at my boy, sound asleep. Happy.


I don't have a "What He Said/What I Should Have Said" for this post, because so many of the details are sketchy and because I have no regrets about that time with him. I would not want to change it, I would not undo it. It was one of the best times of my life.