The Other Woman

Being the other woman is not easy. It is a lonely existence. Most people don't understand and are not willing to be open-minded. I don't blame them, I used to be on the same page until I crossed over.

My guy is not MY guy. He belongs to another. Our casual friendship spans about a year and our deeper friendship, a few months. Things are getting heated. While we have not crossed the line, we are certainly in emotional cheating territory because he has a girlfriend.

Even as just his "friend," I feel I am playing the role of The Other Woman. He lives with his gfriend and I can't text or call too late or too often. This should not be a problem because we are just friends. We ARE just friends. We are supposed to be just friends. I think if I say (write) it enough it will be true. I hope.

As adults we are expected and empowered to make decisions that can change our lives and impact the lives of many. Some decisions as simple as going to work or others, like deciding not to encroach on another woman's relationship.

On one hand, I feel it's my duty as a black woman, Christian and a person who believes in the Golden Rule, to steer another woman's man in the right direction. At the minimum, to not help him have an affair. Definitely not to be the person he has an affair with. It shouldn't matter that the couple may be having problems, or that my intentions are "innocent," or that neither of us are "looking for something serious." On the other hand, is HIS relationship really my problem? I'm not trying to be disrespectful - I'm just living in the moment. Our friendship makes my days just a bit brighter.

What would I like done to me? Probably not what I am doing. How do I separate my moral beliefs from my carnal desires? I don't know.

He is sitting next to me as I blog. I feel an electric connection.

My pussy yearns.

My heart skips a beat.

Although, I take deep breaths. I can't breathe. Can't get enuf oxygen.

I just want to hug him. Hold him. Kiss him. Taste him. Make love to him. Fuck him.

"Breathe," I tell myself as I type feverishly in an effort to get this all out.

I will be his friend. I will be his friend. I will be his friend.

I will try to be just his friend.