Miranda's Story
I’m your average, middle class, married working woman, two kids, nice house, church going, supportive family. Everything that should make me a “good” person. Here I am in the midst of a tumultuous affair with my next-door neighbor. Yes it’s my own personal Lifetime movie! Let me go back to the beginning…
I’ve been a good wife for the most part these past 10 years. My marriage to Duckie (and yes that is a perfectly good reference and comparison to the original Duckie from the classic Pretty in Pink) was never anything exciting but it was comfortable, solid, something I decided I just needed to be happy with. I never strayed all these years, though more than once I considered having an affair usually out of anger or frustration. Over the last 3 years especially, things grew more and more distant. I stopped trying to talk to Duckie because he never understood me, never had. Despite his arguments and disbelief, we have serious communication issues and honestly, I’m tired of supporting his ass – financially, emotionally, and in every other way possible. We’ve always joked that in our relationship I’m the “man” and he’s the “woman.” It’s true; he has a way bigger vagina that I do. Several jobs, two houses, and two kids (Leo age 9 and Ladybug age 3 ½) later here we are at present day.
He (Sawyer) has been there, lurking in my vision for quite a while now - always as the friendly next door neighbor. Then this summer things changed, the world shifted. Suddenly I found myself flirting with him, albeit casually. Apparently my inner flirting deamon revived itself.
We live next door to each other and are the “outside” parents – the ones who are always outside with the kids, playing, laughing, and being the “fun” parent when we can. A little banter here, a little banter there. Suddenly I was in a whirlwind of having a crush on Sawyer. It was fun, harmless I told myself. But I found myself checking out the window to see if he and his kids were outside a little more frequently. My ears perked up at the sound of his truck coming home. I found excuses to be outside more and more and more.
Then that fateful night came. A neighborhood party. We hung out for hours, totally PG flirting. Sawyer confessed he wasn’t happily married. I could feel the tension between us. The interest. The desire. We finally walked back home and I wanted him to kiss me. It didn’t happen though.
Then two days later, a shot that rocked my world – my dad died quite suddenly. Sawyer was there. Just through Facebook at first. Sending an encouraging message, letting me know he was thinking of me. One fateful day he popped up in a chat box on Facebook. I was sad and teary but he managed to make me laugh. Numbers were exchanged and a few friendly phone calls followed.
A few days later, a rare warm late fall day we got to be outside for hours with the kids. In an opportune moment, he leaned over, whispered his email address to me, and asked me to email him the next day.
Our email exchange was/is ridiculous. Pushing for more information, teasing, flirting, challenging me. I had the opportunity to be home early one day and let him know. Sawyer came over to “talk.” I was a nervous schoolgirl. Couldn’t hardly look him in the eye. Things got close, intense. He said I had to make the first move; I started to and then hesitated. He pulled back. A moment later, he dove in. The most amazing kissing of my life. All the while, I was thinking, “I am breaking my marriage vows right here in my own kitchen with my next door neighbor. Seriously? This is my life?”
More phone calls and emails. Such chemistry. A few days later things progressed. I stopped just in the nick of time. Who am I doing this? On my own couch with my own neighbor? More days passed. Hundreds of emails, more than a few phone calls. It was time to piss or get off the pot. I got off the pot.
Almost three months later, I’m obsessed, wrapped up in a web of mixed emotions. I long to be with him but know it’s virtually impossible. Even if down the road we are together in the politically correct fashion, will it be worth the trouble and drama? We both have said we’re crazy for each other. My marriage will be ending soon. Not so sure about his. Life is complicated.
About a month ago, Martin Luther King Day, I told Duckie it’s over and that we need to separate. We’re working through that process right now and hopefully I’ll be moving out in a month. The lengths that I have gone to conceal my affair are quite extensive and quite humorous. At this point, I think I could write a guidebook!
A couple of weeks ago Jules and I stumbled upon the fact that we were both in the same proverbial boat. A few of my friends know ALL the details but to find someone going through such a similar situation is a major relief. To be able to bitch, vent, and laugh is way too valuable these stressful days.
Stay tuned for more details!
I’ve been a good wife for the most part these past 10 years. My marriage to Duckie (and yes that is a perfectly good reference and comparison to the original Duckie from the classic Pretty in Pink) was never anything exciting but it was comfortable, solid, something I decided I just needed to be happy with. I never strayed all these years, though more than once I considered having an affair usually out of anger or frustration. Over the last 3 years especially, things grew more and more distant. I stopped trying to talk to Duckie because he never understood me, never had. Despite his arguments and disbelief, we have serious communication issues and honestly, I’m tired of supporting his ass – financially, emotionally, and in every other way possible. We’ve always joked that in our relationship I’m the “man” and he’s the “woman.” It’s true; he has a way bigger vagina that I do. Several jobs, two houses, and two kids (Leo age 9 and Ladybug age 3 ½) later here we are at present day.
He (Sawyer) has been there, lurking in my vision for quite a while now - always as the friendly next door neighbor. Then this summer things changed, the world shifted. Suddenly I found myself flirting with him, albeit casually. Apparently my inner flirting deamon revived itself.
We live next door to each other and are the “outside” parents – the ones who are always outside with the kids, playing, laughing, and being the “fun” parent when we can. A little banter here, a little banter there. Suddenly I was in a whirlwind of having a crush on Sawyer. It was fun, harmless I told myself. But I found myself checking out the window to see if he and his kids were outside a little more frequently. My ears perked up at the sound of his truck coming home. I found excuses to be outside more and more and more.
Then that fateful night came. A neighborhood party. We hung out for hours, totally PG flirting. Sawyer confessed he wasn’t happily married. I could feel the tension between us. The interest. The desire. We finally walked back home and I wanted him to kiss me. It didn’t happen though.
Then two days later, a shot that rocked my world – my dad died quite suddenly. Sawyer was there. Just through Facebook at first. Sending an encouraging message, letting me know he was thinking of me. One fateful day he popped up in a chat box on Facebook. I was sad and teary but he managed to make me laugh. Numbers were exchanged and a few friendly phone calls followed.
A few days later, a rare warm late fall day we got to be outside for hours with the kids. In an opportune moment, he leaned over, whispered his email address to me, and asked me to email him the next day.
Our email exchange was/is ridiculous. Pushing for more information, teasing, flirting, challenging me. I had the opportunity to be home early one day and let him know. Sawyer came over to “talk.” I was a nervous schoolgirl. Couldn’t hardly look him in the eye. Things got close, intense. He said I had to make the first move; I started to and then hesitated. He pulled back. A moment later, he dove in. The most amazing kissing of my life. All the while, I was thinking, “I am breaking my marriage vows right here in my own kitchen with my next door neighbor. Seriously? This is my life?”
More phone calls and emails. Such chemistry. A few days later things progressed. I stopped just in the nick of time. Who am I doing this? On my own couch with my own neighbor? More days passed. Hundreds of emails, more than a few phone calls. It was time to piss or get off the pot. I got off the pot.
Almost three months later, I’m obsessed, wrapped up in a web of mixed emotions. I long to be with him but know it’s virtually impossible. Even if down the road we are together in the politically correct fashion, will it be worth the trouble and drama? We both have said we’re crazy for each other. My marriage will be ending soon. Not so sure about his. Life is complicated.
About a month ago, Martin Luther King Day, I told Duckie it’s over and that we need to separate. We’re working through that process right now and hopefully I’ll be moving out in a month. The lengths that I have gone to conceal my affair are quite extensive and quite humorous. At this point, I think I could write a guidebook!
A couple of weeks ago Jules and I stumbled upon the fact that we were both in the same proverbial boat. A few of my friends know ALL the details but to find someone going through such a similar situation is a major relief. To be able to bitch, vent, and laugh is way too valuable these stressful days.
Stay tuned for more details!
I had to go back and see the reference to Pretty in PInk - when I first saw it I thought you were calling him Dukie as in Duke fan. Sorry, I should pay more attention.
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