I was 17. He was older by double, married, and several positions above me, in the same company. He would groom me, encourage me, and eventually, he would use me. That’s not the part I think about though. What’s had me stuck, longer than I’d care to admit, is one sentence he’d say, over and over.
“This has nothing to do with my wife.”
He was convinced, and from what he told me, he was also in love with his wife. He was happy with his family. But somehow, I’d still find myself in the back of his van, next to a carseat, contorted every which way for his pleasure. His unexplainable need for pleasure, when he already had more than enough.
“How is that even possible? How can you say this has nothing to do with your wife?”
I don’t know why I always felt the need to ask him about what we were doing. I don’t know why I asked, because his answer would always disappoint. I could tell he had no reason for any of it. And I’d still sit and listen as he justified it to himself.
“If you’re convinced we’re not doing anything wrong, then why not just tell her?”
When I was younger I had this insatiable need to please and be amenable. So even when I could see him lying to me, I’d go along with it. That’s how I survived as a kid, I went along with things. If you don’t disturb people, if you stay away from attention, if you’re easily accepting, then maybe, you just might make it to the next day.
“It’s for her own good, there are some things she doesn’t need to know.”
It’s not always wise to call people out on their B.S. Honestly, many people aren’t even aware they are doing it anymore. To some people, lying is no longer a choice, but a part of the many habits that get overlooked and continued for no reason other than routine. That married man, taught me a valuable lesson.
“I’m done. And I’m sorry for what I’ve done to your wife.”
Just because you had to be a certain way at one point to survive, doesn’t mean that is the only way to go on surviving. I had to go on working with him after that. I never stopped wondering about his wife, and if she truly didn’t know what he was up to. And I never stopped wondering how many marriages out there are carrying lies just as big.
“I’m never going to get married.”
A promise I made to myself when I was 17, just after the married man affair. A promise that was broken four years later when I was 21. Although I have worries the same as most married people, I’m not fixated on the problems that could come. But I am realistic. I know anything is possible, and honestly, I’m okay with that.