The Other Woman – Part 1

I am currently living in a fucking lifetime movie. Yes, the bad, but addicting kind that runs on a Saturday night with a B-list actress and her crazy lying boyfriend. This story is long*, complicated and super twisted, so sit back and take it all in.

*Like I said, it’s LONG so it’ll be broken up into a few installments that will be posted weekly. Writing this in one sitting is just emotionally too tolling right now. 

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And just when you think you’ve experienced it all, something blindsides you like never before.

Many of you know that I started dating someone a few months ago that lives in New York. You also know that normally I name them something funny or ironic to go with the story. For this one, you’re getting his initials. I’m THAT pissed.

LDC and I went to high school together. He was super cute, always really sweet and according to Facebook now, seemed to have his shit together (at this point, having your shit together and not being a lying cheater are now my only boyfriend criteria). This past fall he started commenting on my social media posts. A like here and there, a comment or two, definitely not abnormal, but something new and a welcome change to my everyday feed.

These comments turned into messaging and that messaging turned into texting. That texting turned into 3-hour conversations and deep talks about everything from work, to love, to 30-something life. (Yes, there was some major flirting and sex talk in there too. We are grown adults.) We were invested in each other’s lives and every message made my heart skip a beat.

After a few weeks of talking/flirting he booked a flight to LA for the weekend. I had 3 things going through my mind the whole week before he got here. 1. What if this is a disaster and we hate each other after an hour together? 2. What if we get along great, but there is no physical spark? And, the worst of the options… 3. What if we get along great and we have amazing physical chemistry, then what? The next steps for #3 were the only ones that were difficult. And, of course, that’s what happened.

Even after all of bullshit I have experienced in the last month, that weekend was one of the best weekends of my life. We ate great food, drank wine, held hands, hung out with friends, took a short road trip, talked for hours… it was perfect. On the first night he was here we had had a few bottles of wine (yes, we were officially happy drunk) and headed out to a late dinner. We decided to walk to a great little burger joint down the street from my house. A few blocks into our walk he grabbed my shoulders and turned me towards him in the middle of a deserted street. He grabbed my face, looked me in the eyes and said “I know this is going to sound stupid, but I think I love you.” We kissed right in the middle of the street like we were in a movie. I didn’t know if it was the wine or him talking, so my response was “I really like you, but for me love takes me time, so please don’t tell me you love me unless you truly believe you do.” He called me a dork, kissed me again, agreed to my request, and we held hands as we walked to dinner.

We slept together for the first time that weekend (not the first night!) and it was pretty great. That is after we got over the whole condom situation. Yes, another grown ass man who “hates condoms.” He obviously didn’t hate them that much because once he succumbed we literally spent all day Sunday in bed. We even talked about him getting tested and me going back on the pill. We were talking future here, people. Future.

The weird thing for me was that I was so uncharacteristically comfortable with him and that is NOT normal for me. Maybe it was because we had talked so much before, but I did things with them that I consider intimate and I don’t do with other people. These are not sexual things, these are things about me that I only share with those I’m really close too. For example, I wear my hair straight everyday. I had a boyfriend for a year that never saw my curly hair. LDC saw it within 24 hours of being in LA. I guess this is what happens when you have someone staying with you for a full weekend, but this was new territory for me and I was all in. I was going to do what I never do and go with the flow.

Throughout the weekend we talked more about what’s happened since college – everything from where we had lived (our apartments were 3 blocks away from each other when we both lived in San Francisco), to our careers, to relationships.

NOTE: These women play a major role in this story, so pay attention! Most recently LDC had  had two major relationships… he was engaged and broke off the engagement more than a year ago to his girlfriend of 8+ years. We’ll call her A (ex-fiancé). The reason his engagement was broken off was because he was cheating on A with B (ex-girlfriend and someone he used to work with). Are you following? Yes, I’m the idiot who was knowingly falling for a guy who just told me he cheated on his ex-fiancé. Can I use the love is blind excuse? More about them later!

Back to the weekend… I dropped him off for a red-eye on Sunday. I wasn’t even home yet when I got the “I already miss you so much” text. I was excited, sad, and had a ton of feelings I didn’t even recognize. This was the beginning of something serious and I couldn’t wait to see what was going to happen.

Once he was home the communication was constant. We talked for hours a day – throughout the day and sometimes in the middle of the night. This was a guy who couldn’t be alone and never had been alone in his life. He kept telling me how good I was for him so he could learn how to be alone, but still not really be alone. I had this amazing feeling like I knew why the universe put me in his life. To this day, I still have no idea why it put him in mine.

A couple of weeks after our weekend rendezvous I got a string of panicked phone calls, emails, Facebook messages telling me he had to talk to me and where was I? I literally didn’t answer my phone for like 30 minutes, but he was off the rails. I called him back and he went into a sob story about how much he missed me and that he was fine, nothing was wrong. Two days later he had to go to Mexico for some family stuff. He called me from his layover in South Carolina and begged me to come with him. I thought it was romantic and so sweet, but with work I just couldn’t make it happen. I continued to get sad texts from him his entire trip there. I also got lots of very romantic texts too – kissy face and heart emoticons and “Do you think about me? I think about you all the time and miss you so much!” What girl doesn’t melt when she sees that?

I soon learned the panicking wasn’t about missing me at all. It was about so much more…

Enter the stalker… Yes, you read that right. STALKER. I told you this as a fucking Lifetime movie.

8 Comments

    1. I’m going to write as much as I can now so I can get it all out. Reliving it will just be torture. Will hopefully post more often than weekly!

    2. That’s how I felt too, Aaron!
      Emily- perhaps writing a big chunk all at once will be therapeutic? You don’t necessarily have to post for us all in one, but at least the pain of writing it will be done!

      I cannot imagine this. Well, that’s a lie… Some day when I really feel like leaving you a drawn out comment, maybe I’ll tell you my story of the crazy fuck who stole my heart and then broke it severely. It’s almost as ugly as this story (from what I’ve gathered via your Twitter feed).

    1. I can promise you, you have NO idea where this is headed. It happened to me and I’m still in shock. I’ve lost 6lbs in the past week – thank God it’s bikini season! #bigboobsflattummy

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