“ ‘Cause she walk like a boss; Talk like a boss; Manicured nails to set the pedicure off; She’s fly effortlessly; And she move like a boss; Do what a boss do”

“Ok”

One word. No punctuation.

I’m inexplicably hollow.

Yet, I caused the response. It happened because of me. Because I wanted it.

We weren’t in a relationship or situationship. We weren’t friends. Heck, we never met, not in person. Our conversations were shallow and often covered a recap of our work days and the weather. He sometimes hinted he wanted to ask me out, but I dreaded it and avoided encouraging him. Yet, I wanted him to at the same time. Under one condition: I was not to be a secret.

He told me he was married, but it was arranged and now that the kids were grown, it was one of convenience. He insisted his wife was dating a doctor.

Hmmm.

Time passed. Patterns formed.

His texts were consistently inconsistent. Sometimes long conversations ensued, other times one line. I replied. He went silent. Days might pass. Or weeks. Or a month.

Chats were occasionally redundant. He admitted he deleted conversation threads. His grown children are nosy. That’s not their business.

Hmmm.

I asked him his last name. “Jay” could be anyone.

He declined to give it to me. He said he worked a high-level position in a well-known company in Connecticut and couldn’t risk his colleagues knowing he was looking for a relationship outside of his marriage.

“Does your wife know about me?” I randomly asked one day.

“No.”

Hmmm.

The figurative last straw came yesterday. The dialogue was free-flowing and responses immediate. He said he was at the dealership getting his oil changed.

“What do you drive?” I asked.

“I drive a Tesla, but I took my Acura MDX in for service.”

“So, the Acura is your wife’s car?”

“Yes.”

Hmmm. Not only am I a secret, but I’ve been compartmentalized into the category of an “affair.” That’s not who I want to be. This is not what I want. In my last text to him, I said exactly that.

He didn’t immediately respond and relief swept over me. Then came the “ok” and he didn’t fight it or ask questions. Emptiness takes hold over me. I dwell in it. Then, I looked back at our texts.

Did I make a mistake?

Absolutely not.

Then, why the disappointment?

I sit with the question, first while driving home from work. Then, while mowing the lawn.

Oh!

I shattered my own pattern of seeking attention from emotionally unavailable men. It hits hard. I am embodying my manifestations and am following through on the boundaries I have set for myself. I said I didn’t want to be a secret and when he failed to show me otherwise, I made a change, putting myself first. I didn’t care about hurting his feelings, nor did I backtrack my words to let him off the hook. I respected me, my wants and needs.

Damn!