The Lonely Holiday of a Mistress:
Don’t Try This at Home

Yes, I said it, a mistress. As I sit here on a holiday evening, when other couples are either chilling, having seconds of dinner or of each other, I realize how alone I really am. Oh, he and I will get together over this long holiday weekend at some point, but that does nothing for me right now. And, believe me, no amount of cash, gifts or sex can replace him being here now.

Earlier this week, a friend of mines asked me, “So when are you going home?” meaning when was I going to the city my friend lives in, which is about 90 miles away. I laughed and told her more than likely Friday afternoon. Little does she know that I am really going to take my daughter to visit her family and that I will be lucky if I get to see him. Little does she know that I have never seen the inside of this man’s house. Little does she know that I have never met his children. Little does she know that if it weren’t for that neat little invention called a cell phone and some creative “meetings” I will pretend to attend, that I would be just out of luck, yet again. Little does she know that our “quality time” is usually spent on the inside of a hotel room or some very exclusive restaurant. When I ask for trips to the mall, a club or a movie, he comes up with a barrage of excuses--“I’m so tired, those places are too crowded tonight, I didn’t bring any party clothes (for the times when he comes to visit me).”

By now, you are asking yourself: why on earth is she staying in this dead-end relationship? She is obviously not happy and she is on the short end of the stick. One reason is that, right now, this man gives me a minimal amount of attention and because I am in a Ph.D. program in another city. I also am a recently divorced single parent, an adjunct faculty member, work an office job and, in many cases, minimal amount of attention is all I have time for. Other people I meet don’t seem to understand my tight schedule, and I must be very careful whom I expose my child to (she has not met my friend). Also, there have been times when I have needed this man to help me and he has done just that. He basically rescued me from an abusive relationship and has been my shelter in the times of storm. When I needed airfare, hotel rooms, winter coats, rent money and gifts for my daughter, this man has come through - not for things that I wanted like new cars, nail jobs, and cable TV, but for things I NEEDED. But I also need for him to tell me the truth. This man refuses to admit that he is married, just outright refuses. Everything around him unmistakably points in that direction - after 1 ½ years, I have no home phone, have never seen the inside of his house and spend lonely holidays - yet I want to believe him. One time, I began to cry when I told him that I had evidence that proved he was married. He swore on his brother’s grave that he was not and began to get irate that I cannot trust and believe him.

A dear male friend of mine is dating an older woman. He told me that he feels out of her league, but that he does really like her. I reminded him that all the men in her age group are married, and will do nothing but lie about it and leave her high and dry during the times she needs them most. Then I reminded him to look at me and be reminded of that fact. I would not advise this road for anyone, not even my worst enemy, because it can get dark, dismal and lonely. But as I sit here and look for a painless way out of this, I realize that there isn’t one.

There is one thing in all of this that is utterly amazing. Now, I know in my heart that he is married. Yet he goes to all types of lengths to prove to me that he is not—imagine 8 A.M. Saturday morning meetings, never knowing just what you’re going to do for a holiday, blocked phone calls, messages left on an answering service that he claims was his home number, endless hotel rooms and constant lies about his children, his parents and his personal life. Sometimes, I feel like I have been sleeping with a total stranger for 1-½ years. Maybe I have.

When the pain gets to be too much, I’ll leave. I’ll deal with the hurt when I finish school, when the weather gets warmer, when I have gotten him to help me pay off this computer, when I find someone to replace him. But as you read this, don’t be too quick to judge me—what are you putting up with, who are you lying to, how many people are you sexing, who are you playing, who are you really fooling?