Situations often aren’t what they appear to be, so I’ve learned. Say you look at a girl’s Instagram and you find that she was just on vacation with her boyfriend and his family. They seem happy. He sends her flowers. They attend weddings. She posts pictures of plane tickets, taking time off from work to make her long distance relationship work. She moves in. They seem happy.
What you don’t know is that that family vacation was what was expected of him. And that her boss called said boyfriend and told him to send her flowers. That she attended the weddings only because she knows his friends. That she guilt tripped him into letting her move in. That they’ve been on/off this whole time. What you don’t know is that for the last 8 months he’s been sleeping with somebody else. What she doesn’t know is that her sometimes ex, sometimes boyfriend, has created an unbelievable realm of honesty with another woman.
I’m that other woman. And we tell each other everything. Every detail, every feeling, the ups and downs of their relationship, our fears of the future and the impending decision that looms: Which one will it be? His ex or the new girl – to her, the other woman. I hate that term, “the other woman”, because it makes it seem as if I’ve done something wrong. All the times we were together, they were “off” and we were “on”. Almost all. To me, she’s the other woman. But once I got over the initial pain, I started to value and cherish the honesty our relationship had been founded on. He was honest, and in return, I was understanding.
Sometimes I’d wondered if I had become a tool. Someone he didn’t have to hide anything from, because there wouldn’t be much consequence. I was understanding. I thanked him for his honesty. I loved it. And with her, he hid it all, I didn’t exist. But at some point it made me wonder if he was more afraid to lose her, than to lose me. What was more valuable, the incredibly rare foundation of truth our relationship was built on, or caring enough about her to hide it all, to lie? It’s a mind fuck really. Do I want someone to lie to me in order to prove their fear of losing me? I’m sure she’d much rather be in my position, the one who was never lied to. But truth is, I envy his fear of losing her. Is there a silver lining in being lied to? Or does the truth always prevail? Grass is always greener I guess.
Three weeks ago, he told me for the 4th time that we had to break things off. That even though he wasn’t ready to “settle down”, he would allow her to move in. That she blamed him for their failures and that it was time he gave her what she had wanted all this time. He caved. “But she’s my ex”, he says. I love that phrase. I hope there’s a special place in Hell reserved for that phrase. But again, I understood and thanked him for his honesty. He promises me we’ll be together if they don’t work out. I’ll fight for him in my own way. I tell him I love him, but I’m never sure if he really believes me. And as I’ve discovered with most people, they almost never know when love is true, but I’m allowing the man I love to move in with his ex girlfriend. And if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
I walked by her this week and I felt bad she doesn’t know you like I do.