In fact, our years-long romance began innocently enough via a mutual love of riding motorcycles. As a wild teenager, I dearly loved to climb on board (passenger) and feel the freedom of flight on wheels. My Mr. Big preferred riding his various bikes to any vehicle he owned, and would think nothing of going on all day rides.

His wife left town for the holidays (he was meeting up with the family in time) and we were left to our own amusement of riding.

Yes, I knew he was married, with children. And yes, I thought myself strong enough not to fall for the temptation. And yes, I was wrong!

Chemistry is a difficult thing to put your finger on…why you are attracted to one person, and not another. They say that adventure lends to spicing up a relationship, or in my case, creating one where none really existed. I cannot say why, only that is was so. I got a bad case of hot chemistry, faster than you could say “off limits.”

Even though I normally have a pretty fair sense of right and wrong, when my heart becomes engaged, it is easier to stop stampeding horses than to stop its demanding, galloping forward. I knew it was wrong, and still gave in to its insatiable appetite.

After a brief, intense couple of weeks, he left to join his family. I had a needed respite from the emotional turmoil, and an opportunity to pull back.

When he returned, I was convinced we would end this deception. That was not to be. He would come by to visit me several times a day, taking in lunch daily, and before heading home from work. As the owner of a company, he answered to no one. His habits did not change for his family; he was home by the end of each day. He seemed to have the best of all possible worlds!

We traveled together at least one weekend a month. Several times, he managed to get away for longer trips, weeks in Europe, or different locations around the state or country. And every Sunday, we rode a motorcycle around the back roads of the county.

Having been a single mother for many years, I was used to being on my own. I liked my separate space. I had enough caretaking with my own two kids to want or need the fulltime responsibility of a husband, live-in steady or even a regular boyfriend. I had been involved with a couple men, but the stress on my kids was unbearable…no one was happy.

Plus, he provided luxuries that I couldn’t provide for myself: travel, extra financial support and my own credit card. Since I didn’t receive any financial support from my children’s father, it was tremendous help in making my life a little easier.

The pay off was the guilt and deceiving his unknowing wife, and the jealousy I struggled to conquer over their family times, and holidays, and times I just wanted to talk. I had to make peace with these trade offs, or go mad in the process.

I tried to convince him of the need to end our affair, get counseling, or make a choice. He remained on the fence for seven long years. At one point, he did ask me to marry him, as soon as he could bring himself to splitting with her, but of course, needed more time.

Just days prior to the 9/11 attacks, and their departure on a trip to Europe, his wife received an “anonymous” letter from a “friend” who had evidently felt justified in sharing his indiscretions. The whole years-long affair spelled out in what must have been the rudest awakening ever. They say that wives are the last to know. This was definitely the case, to my own amazement.

Somehow, I thought she must have known, and just turned a blind eye. I can only imagine what the following days and weeks and months were like, as he turned cheek and headed home to grovel for forgiveness faster than I could say “good bye”.

We didn’t speak for a very long time. I was consumed with grief for the thousands of people who had become victimized by attacks on 9/11. My own loss seemed insignificant compared to the monstrosity of evil on that day. It was good to pray for other’s pain and loss, good to forget my own.

It has been over 5 years now that I lost the love of my life. I have been married, briefly, and divorced quickly. I have flirted with another relationship, which my heart wasn’t into. I’m at peace with just being on my own, again. That feels good.

I heard from my old love yesterday. His voice made my heart jump, again. I smiled. I wondered how he was doing, how is his wife. I pray for her forgiveness, but I doubt I would receive it. I hope their life together is better, better understanding, rebuilding the broken trust, renewing their commitment to one another and their marriage. Forgiveness can be a bitter pill to swallow.

In the end, I’m glad I had a great love, if only part time. I’m glad I’m on my own…I still like my own company best of all. I’m glad his marriage survived the infidelity, because that’s what commitment is all about. I’m glad I didn’t marry him, and wonder if he was being faithful.

I am sorrier than I ever would have imagined for the amount of pain that was caused by this relationship. Even if we hope and pray and beg the people closest to us to forgive us, and they do, is it fair to ask for it?

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Cause of Life

Nancy is a writer and single mother, living the demands of life in SOCAL. She can be contacted thru her web site at causeoflife.com

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