Make yourself… ‘green tea’ | Women

But then almost 4 years later, a miracle happened. A wonderful man who eased my pain, healed my wounds and made me love again. Most of all, he loves me too. I feel happy, safe and valued. In fact, he also knew my husband. They were close and understood each other.

I will never forget the moment we both realized we were on the verge of transitioning from acquaintances to lovers. The love that I have for him is no less passionate, gentle and loving.

Even so, I can’t help but feel guilty. Not because I feel I am betraying my late husband, but because I know that the man who awakened my heart, body, and soul is married.

We’ve known each other for a while, so I know he’s only maintaining a marriage in name. All he cares about is work. He once said that he and his wife lived very separately. They never eat together, hang out, touch each other or talk. I believe everything you say.

“He loves me and I love him too. His children have grown. It’s time for him to have a real life” – I confided to a friend.

Like many others, she vehemently condemned my actions, making me realize how complicated life really is. I felt I needed to protect myself: “I would never have an affair with the husband of someone I know”.

But that doesn’t seem to be a good reason. My friend pointed out that whether I know the person who is hurt or not, their vulnerability doesn’t change. She advised me to give up.

Months passed, I kept thinking “Why should I give up?”. Your words seem to wake me up from a deep sleep. He laughed when I told him this. “You’re like a princess,” he said and hugged me. In fact, we were very careful. Neither of us wanted any trouble.

We drove tens of kilometers for walks and lunches without anyone noticing. I cherish the times we were able to hold hands, enjoy food and laugh together – like a true couple. The care we had for each other and our families prevented any physical contact.

I ended up ending this relationship at the end of last year. The reason is probably because we can’t deny guilt. I don’t want to be a bad person. In the extremely unlikely event that our affair was discovered, I would probably be condemned as an evil woman.

Or maybe I’m just too tired of keeping secrets. I cannot recommend him to my family and friends. Whatever the reason, the result is the same – we broke up. Right now, none of us are actively communicating.

I still don’t have the strength to delete all your contacts. Every day I have to fight with myself not to dial his number. I try to forget what we had. I still don’t know exactly what I want out of a relationship most of us would call an affair, but I do know what I’ve lost: The love and company of someone who makes me feel loved. I am beautiful and cheerful.