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Love Walter: When Loving You Is Wrong

Love Walter

Dear Walter,

I can’t help it. I like dating married guys. It’s like some kind of sick fetish. What are your thoughts about dating married men? 

—Not The Marrying Kind


Dear Not Marrying Kind, 

I’ve never been the lonely type. The chill of a February night left me longing for love. Husband hunting after the holiday season was like buying a coat in the summer. 

Looking for a single family man without a family, who has a job frustrated me. I would be better off borrowing someone’s husband two nights a week.

But mistresses lead complicated lives, embracing the joy and judgment. With plenty of married men nearby, one is often tempted. Are there a few good men in bad marriages?

In a three-way love triangle, wife trumps mistress. Affairs are as common as cotton candy. Mistresses become second class sex zombies as affairs go public. What to do when the wife gets a whiff of your debauchery?

Being one-third of a love equation challenged convention. What equated to me not taking the bus? 


Politics and Proposition

I met Brian in the streets of DC, where politics and prostitution pedaled the way to congress. He towered over me, six-feet tall in tailored suits. His insatiable appetite stemmed from his nights of neglect. A family man went out at night looking for something new.

Two vodka tonics and a cigarette later, he offered me a proposition that contested political correctness. I felt like an undercover sex agent meeting in random hotels, hosting sessions on lunch hours. 

I sent him back to his wife. 


New Year, New Man

I’ve sworn off married men years ago. The guilt coupled with the lies challenged my prospect of a happy ending. From a careless whisper to getting caught in the act, I learned that some married men will lie to maintain the status quo. 

A year later, I met a man I connected with over wine and words. Let’s call him Jamal. I discovered he was married. He was separated inundated with his divorce while his wife used his kids as leverage during the proceedings. 

He was forthcoming with everything. “You would love my wife,” he said before bursting into laughter. He showed me a picture of her and his boy and girl. Their coca-buttered faces glowed in the picture like the family on Blackish. And for a moment, I pictured myself right next to them. 

He’s not leaving his wife to be with me. His marriage was over before me. No reconciliation or reuniting. 

“We have to lay low until the next court date,” he said.  

“That’s a lot of days until Friday,” I said. 

I side-eyed him. 

But I’m not some ordinary bitch and life is too short to make this comfortable for someone else. So we hung out, went to Planet Fitness and Trader Joes. Although, we spent most of our time in bed watching talk shows and movies until it was time for us to eat. He handled all meals. 

We made love daily—slow and sweet.

Let’s have a toast to the joys of his divorce. 

But trying to transition this from his marriage to a full blown gay relationship was my greatest challenged yet.

Thread carefully.

Love, 

Walter


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