I met him online a year ago—on an app; he was 34 and I was 19. He told me that he was divorced and had children from his first marriage.
I know this may be hard to believe, but at first, I wanted nothing more than friendship from him. I was lonely. My parents have never been in the picture and I was raised by my grandmother. I don’t have very many close friends. We started talking every day through calls, texts, and Skype. He came to visit me and we had such an amazing time; he met my grandma. It wasn’t awkward at all, like I thought it might be. I felt like I had known him my whole life, and although we hadn’t planned to sleep together, we did. Now, I regret it so much.
A few days later, he left. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was off. He talked about his ex-wife a lot—too much. One of my friends suggested that maybe he was still married. So I looked his “ex” up on Facebook and, sure enough, her status still said “married.” It made sense: he only called when he wasn’t in the house or when his kids weren’t home. I confronted him and he immediately admitted it. I felt disgusted with myself—that I had slept with someone who was married with children. But he was so convincing: he told me that he had no feelings for her, that they weren’t in love, and that he’d been trying to get a divorce. This was one of many red flags that I chose to overlook: that a man who has been with his wife for over 17 years suddenly doesn’t feel a thing for her anymore.
But I thought he was “the one.” I accepted his explanation. I haven’t forgiven him for lying to me and taking advantage of me when we met. I felt disgusting—sleeping with another woman’s husband. I didn’t care that he said their marriage was basically over. I cared about how she’d feel if she knew. I cared about how it made me the “homewrecker.” But, over time, I let go of it a little. I won’t lie to you.
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