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A Love Quote
The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in. --Morrie Schwartz



Tales of the Ex @ RomanceClass -
My Forbidden High School Love

After 23 years, the flame continues to burn for the love of my life. We were high school sweethearts. We sneaked around due to my parents not allowing me to date (they were very strict). So our dating consisted of holding hands in school, sneaking a kiss here and there, and making up stories to my mother that I had after school activities and would be late coming home. During that time I would go to his house and spend many lovely moments with him. No, it's not what you think. We never actually had sex. Not that we didn't want to, but I was terrified. Terrified not of going against my moral beliefs but more so terrified of my mother finding out. Every moment spent with him was tender, sweet, full of love and passion. He wanted me so badly but respected my decision to not move on to the next step. This went on for approximately 10 months. Then one day I noticed he started distancing himself. I asked him what was wrong. He finally said he loved me but wanted a girlfriend he can go out with in public. He didn't want to sneak anymore. He wanted to go to the movies with me, take me out to dinner, take me to the shore and watch the sun set, kiss me whenever he wanted to without fear. I tried to remind him the reasons why we couldn't. Then one day I saw him talking to a girl in the hallway. But the way he was looking at her was the way he once looked at me. I knew that look. But I chose to ignore it. We went to prom together (yes, my mother knew we were going together...that's another story). He looked so handsome. I believe I looked beautiful because when he came to pick me up and saw me, he took a breath and then forgot to breath. He just stared at me and looked at me so tenderly. When he finally was able to come to his senses he whispered in my ear "you look breathtaking." At the prom, we were having a good time but THAT girl was lurking around. Then he said to me, "would you mind if I have this dance with so and so?" I responded with "tell you what, you can have the rest of the dances with so and so." I got up from my chair and went to one of my teachers and asked her to take me home. I knew then that it was over. I went home and cried myself to sleep. When I saw him again in school, I told him that we needed to talk. We spoke and I told him that because I loved him I was going to let him go. I wasn't ready or strong enough to go against my parents rules at that time. He said he wished things were different. It was one of the worst days of my life. I felt my heart crushing as I said good bye. We remained friends, somehow. This breakup caused me to develop a hatred for men. I convinced myself that all men wanted was sex and if it wasn't given to them, then you would be replaced. I gave every guy that crossed my path a hard time. I became an expert at making them drool over me and me teasing them but not giving them anything in return. Games, nothing but games. I was angry and bitter. Then I met my future husband. My game didn't work with him. Yes, he drooled and was eating out of my hand but he didn't run whenever my fangs and talons would come out with my man bashing. Instead he stayed to comfort me. No matter what I did to make him run, it made him come closer. He wasn't even afraid of confronting my mother. Now THAT was a huge turn on for me. He knew about my past love. He understood it. He knew why I was so angry. But he convinced me that he would make me forget. And yes, forget I did, momentarily. Until that phone call. That one damn phone call from my ex. He called to say hello and tell me that he had heard that I was dating someone and was planning on marrying him. I told him that he had heard correctly. And what did he say? "You can't marry him because you are still in love with me as I am with you. You and I belong together. End your relationship with him and let's start our lives together." He crushed me with those words. Just when I was getting strong and able to move on with my life, he came and crushed me. Back to square one. But I couldn't break my soon to be husband's heart or disappoint my mother (yes, my mother loved him despite some issues that had to be resolved between them). I convinced myself that I would forget him and erase him from my heart. That I will love my husband just as much or even more than my ex. On the day of my wedding, while everyone was running around me do all the last minute things before the "I do's" all I kept thinking about was "what if he finds out where it is that I am getting married and stops the wedding?" That's what I was secretly wishing for. It never happened. On my wedding night, my first time ever making love to a man (yes, I was still a virgin), who was it that my heart and mind were with? Not with my new husband but with my ex. How screwed up is that??? Yes, I made love to my ex using my husband's body knowing that it was every shade of wrong. Six years later, after maintaining a decent friendship, my ex and I met up. I was going through a very tough time in my marriage (won't go into because it involves something very personal in my husband's life) but none the less it affected me. We spoke, memories were brought up to the forefront. Feelings reignited. A kiss here, a kiss there. This went on for a couple of months. Then one day, a very vulnerable day, we both collapsed into each others desire. We made love for the first time. It was more beautiful than what I had ever dreamed it would be. The love and passion felt was like none other. The fireworks were ones I had never seen before. He was in a serious relationship with his now wife. He asked me to leave my husband. I told him I couldn't...not now, he was going through too much. Two months later I found out I was pregnant. Although my ex and I used protection, one never knows. I was thrilled to know I was finally going to have a baby (we had tried for many years) but terrified at the thought that this child might actually be my ex's. Not that it would have been a horrible thing to have his child...if anything, it would make me smile and bring warmth into my heart thinking of the possibility. But the reality was that I was married to another man and how would I tell him that this child might not be his. I took the risk of staying quiet and waiting until she was born. My plan was to do a DNA test if there was any chance that she looked like my ex. My ex did ask me if there was a possibility that she was his. I told him no. When my baby was born, the first thing I did was inspect her from head to toe to make sure she was perfect and then to make sure who her daddy was. She belonged to my husband. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that I had nothing to do with the creation of that child and she was made solely by him, that's how much she took after her daddy. My ex continued his relationship with his girlfriend. He called me one day and asked to meet with me because he needed to talk. We met at a cafe. After some small talk he finally said to me that he was planning on proposing to her but he needed to know how I felt about it and if by chance I objected he wouldn't proceed and end his relationship with her as long as I ended mine with my husband. Again, I told him I couldn't leave him. Yes, he married her. We continued our "friendship". We would meet up for lunch every now and then and had two more rondevous throughout the years. I moved down south after many pleads from my husband. He hated NY. I met for lunch with my ex the day before I moved. We said our goodbyes. It was very painful. We kept in touch. Then we both discovered Facebook. It was wonderful to see pictures of him and he can see pictures of me. He said he would melt every time he would see my pictures. I have to say that I have aged gracefully thanks to my mothers good genes. Then one day he informed me that he and his wife were expecting. Instead of being happy for him, I shut down. I had the hardest time muttering the words "congratulations!" Why? Why such selfishness? I had a family of my own. My husband and I had three children and moved down south yet I felt like my world was ending, once again. Til this day, I still can't quite put a finger on why I've felt this way. It's a horrible feeling not to be happy for someone you love who is experiencing one of the happiest times of their lives. His son was born. He posted pics of his birth on Facebook. I, somehow, was able to type "congatulations....blah, blah, blah" on his picture post. I don't remember what exactly it was that I wrote but it wasn't heartfelt. It was fake, something I am not. Right! For the last 23 years I've been nothing but a fake. Faking that I'm happy with my husband, faking that I love living here in the middle of nowhere, faking that I don't hold my mother responsible for my unhappiness. I take pride in my honesty yet all along I've been lying to myself. I day dream that one day my ex and I will somehow end up together and continue our lives together and be happy, finally. I know it's all a dream and that it will never happen, but dreaming doesn't cost a dime and those thoughts are mine and mine alone. He's happy with his son. He doesn't say much about his wife. I know she gets on his nerves a lot and she is nothing like me as far as likes and dislikes. She's messy, impulsive and has temper tantrum when things don't go her way. I'm OCD when it comes to cleanliness and order, think things through over and over before finally making a decision and if I want something really bad, I make it happen one way or another. Now, if I had had that knowledge about myself 23 years ago, I wouldn't be telling you this sad story. I would have had the courage to let my husband go, to tell my mother to let me live my life and make my own mistakes and taken a chance with love. For now, I will continue to hold on to the memories of us, those wonderful memories.






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