He was dashing. He was funny. He was in a sense, tall, dark, and handsome. What girl wouldn’t want a man like him?

He was much older – 8 years older than me. I found the age difference completely attractive because it meant that he was mature – more mature than any of my peers could ever be in their mid-20s. He also had a slight receding hairline which sends me right over the edge.

He shared wisdoms with me. He seemed to know so much about the real world and because I was still a wide-eyed, bushy-tailed college student, I had so much craving for the knowledge of the beyond, the life I was supposed to know come summer of ‘07 when I actually get to experience it for myself.

We worked together marvelously – the formidable dynamic duo that got things done and ruled over an army of students. Many late nights together led to an inseparable bond, one that lasted, or tried to last for almost five years.

I knew him for a year before I gave in and became his girlfriend. It was a year of bouncing around, not knowing whether to give in or file a sexual harassment complaint. But when I did finally gave in, it felt so right and thus began an exciting new chapter in my life. This was my first ever relationship and I was not about to lose it or ruin it.

He was a gentleman. He held doors open for me, took me out to dates, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. His career was going great – looking towards a promotion at his current position, looking to quit his second job, and looking to open his own business when the time was right.

We would see places, do things, and eat good food together. When he got tired, he would go home to sleep in his own bed. Late-night romp fests, but he would have to wake up early the next morning for an opening shift so he had to go home. He liked to keep his cell phone off so that he could get a good night’s sleep and no one would bother him. Whenever we went to places, it was more convenient for him to pick me up at my place, not vice versa. A healthy relationship all around, or so I thought.

A person who had this experience would have seen it all. All the signs that I had missed, or rather ignored, and all the signs that screamed at me to leave. He did not want to sleep in his own bed – he wanted to sleep in his bed with his wife. He had to go home, not because he had an early morning shift, but because he had a family that expected him to be there. He kept his cell phone off not so that he could get a good night’s sleep but so that his wife wouldn’t see the suspicious phone calls that came from another girl late at night.

I should have seen it all. Upon retrospect, all the signs were so glaringly obvious that I sometimes question my own judgments even to this very day. A person who was such a good judge of character can falter so miserably when it was right under her nose. Thoroughly disgusted at myself, I was still willing to accept responsibility of the reality of this situation and move on.

How do you move on from this? In an affair, the woman is most often given the chance to make a conscious choice whether to stay in a relationship or not. I was not given that chance to make a decision whether to stay in an unfaithful relationship. I kept trying to salvage our relationship even through its last stages because I thought it was worth something to keep.

I found that he is actually 15 years older than me, has a wife who seems to be very much in love with him still, and possibly oblivious to the fact that he was unfaithful to her for the last five years. I can only walk away from this to live my own life and to learn and grow from this experience. I would seek vengeance from the emotional distress this has caused, but not until a callous formed over the part of my heart that was torn from this lesson. Exactly how, I am not sure, but, mark my words, I will prepare for it.

I realize I haven’t touched this thing in forever. Out of sheer laziness, I failed to moderate the numerous spam comments and whatever junk that collected in this abyss of a comment box.

It’s time to start it out again, realizing that I have more in my life going on than my memory can handle. I realize when I make myself a mental note to do something in the morning and forget it by mid-afternoon, I can safely say that my age has caught up to me and my memory is not as sprightly as it used to be.

I was sitting at work today thinking about everything that’s going on in my life right now and felt inspired to write in my blog again. Why? Because this entire story of my life as a 20 something year old could someday provide me with great laughter later down the road once all this is over. More things have happened to me in the last five years than I can remember happening in my life before college, and how am I to remember it all when I’m 35? 45? 60?

Let’s see. To catch up to date, I can say that I now have a boyfriend, have completed 3 years at my current job and found the best and worst in people. Sounds pretty good, right?

The boyfriend. Adam. We met through an unconventional and unreliable (usually) source – the internet. A dating site, actually. I had never the intention of starting a profile on this particular dating site after trying another one out and found that the pickings were slim. Through curiosity and convincing a la Melissa, I reopened my profile and gave it a shot. The guys on the site were quick to respond to my profile but with ho-hum messages like, “Hi, I think you’re cute, I’m a buff guy who likes long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners. I am 6′3, I’ve got a muscular build, I…I…I…” Snore. After sifting through dozens of lackluster messages, I found one that caught my attention. This message, from Adam, did not deal with everything about him and how he is a great match for me, but a genuine interest in what I am, aside from the information he can gather from the cursory profile I had put up. It sounds corny, but I remember in my Mastering Sales classes that the only way to hook a client is to be genuinely interested in their company, their mission, their goals, then lastly what the meeting/event means to them. Turns out, it’s the same with dating. I had never been this flattered with the messages I’ve received, or even the compliments I have received in real life. Maybe this is the one? I gave it a shot.

To date, we have been going out for about three months. Sounds very little, and it is, but to think about how much I have grown from this relationship within this short period of time speaks to, what I hope will be, a healthy future.

I will go on to talk about what a stark contract this relationship is to my last. Not because I need to really vent or seek sympathy, but because later on down the road in my successfully fruitful relationship, I can feel vindicated that I turned out just fine despite what I had to go through.
tbc..

Test?!?!?