Archive | September, 2009

A Mistress?

25 Sep

Dear Married Guy From Work Who Can’t Take A Hint,

When I first started my divorce process, you and your wife were going through some difficult times.  You two had separated.  We had a mutual attraction for each other, and we went out on a few dates.  Suddenly, you stopped calling.  I finally got a hold of you, and you let me know that you and your wife were in counseling.  Commendable, I said.  But you could have at least let me know, instead of giving me the cold shoulder.  We remained friends, and we talked on a regular basis.

That was quite some time ago…a year maybe?  Recently, your text messages and conversations have drifted over the friend line.  Some of what you say even makes me blush, it is so racy.  You are very explicit on what you want to do me, on what you want me to do with you.  I called you out on these messages.

Esme: What are you doing, Guy?  Why are you doing this?  What happened to the counseling with your wife?

Guy: Well, obviously it didn’t take.  I want to see you, want to fuck you.

Esme: WHAT?

Guy: I want you to be my mistress.  No strings.

Ummm…I can NOT believe you had the cajones to ask me that out right.  I know you have a thing for me, but…DAMN.

I still have no response.

Love, Esme


Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

17 Sep

Dear Perfect,

I was at your place last week, spending time with you and your girls.  (I absolutely LOVE your kids, have I told you that?)  Your five-year-old came up to me as you were putting the two-year-old in bed.

Merideth: Esme, are spending the night?

Esme: (Truth is I was, but it is not my place to tell your daughter that.  Your kids have never caught me there, and I was planning on leaving before they got up) Umm, not tonight sweetie.  We will have a sleepover some other time.

Merideth: I think you should stay.

Esme: Ha.  Wait, what?

Merideth: You should stay.  You and daddy should just go to bed now.

Esme: We should what?

Merideth: (She sighed, looked at me like I was re-tar-ded, put her hand on her hip) You and daddy?  You guys should just go to bed.

Esme: (Yelling)  Uhh, Perfect?  Merideth needs to go to bed.

I told you what happened, and you laughed.  She actually said that to you, you asked?  She doesn’t open up to anyone!  They both love you.  I smiled, and went to sleep.

The next morning, I overslept.  And you didn’t bother to wake me up.  I looked so peaceful, you said.  There was no sense in waking you.

You kept the door closed while you got up with the girls.  They had no idea I was in there.  When I finally woke up, I stayed in the room until you came in.

Esme: Sooo…how are we going to do this?

Perfect: Hang on.

You left the room, and walked back in 2 minutes later.  You explained you told Merideth I had spent the night.  Her face lit up when she found out I was in the next room.

I tentatively step out of the bedroom, not quite sure what I am walking into.  I feel like this could be worse than getting caught by my mom.  I find Merideth in the living room, and brace myself for what is to come.  After all, this is the girl, that when we were dating, had glared at me when I touched your back.

Merideth: Good morning, Esme!  I told you to just spend the night!  Want some breakfast?

Madison, your two-year-old, was grinning from ear to ear.

Yep, they love me.

Love, Esme

A Gut Check

17 Sep

Dear Self,

You are aware that you and Perfect have been spending time together.  You love his children, and when they ask you go and play.  You enjoy his company (and his bedroom tricks), and when he asks you go and play.  Sometimes, playtime is in the bedroom.  Other times, absolutely nothing sexual happens, and you still have just as much fun.  You know you enjoy his company.  He cooks for you, he gives you back massages.  He makes you feel oh-so-special.

But you didn’t realize how much time you two have been spending together until our mother called.

Mom: What are you doing this weekend?

Esme: Perfect’s ex-wife won’t take the kids on Saturday, and he is on shift.  Since my ex’s mom has the kids for the weekend, I am watching his kids overnight.

Mom: Huh.

Esme: Huh?  What is that mean?

Mom: Well, for two people who are just friends, and don’t want a committment, you two are spending an awful lot of time together.

Oh, fuck…

Love, Esme

An AHA! Moment.

13 Sep

Dear Perfect,

Why can’t I quit you?  Why is it you get inside me and mess with my emotions?  You wanted to meet up and explain things.  You wanted to set the record straight.  You wanted to see me face-to-face and clarify what you meant the other night when you talked to me.  And…I agreed.

You explained that even though you have feelings for this other woman, you would never act on those feelings.  You said it was just something you have to deal with.  And you told me because you want to be honest with me.  You wanted me to know what I have to deal with, what I am up against, when it comes to you.

Huh?  Now I am confused.  We aren’t dating.  We are friends, and we occasionally sleep together.  Then I smiled, a slow smile as the realization dawned on me.

You can’t quit me, either.

Love, Esme


9 Sep

Dear Male Population,

Why is it that it is impossible for you guys to pick up the phone and call your date when you decide to not show up?  Why is it you think it is okay to let some girl sit in a restaurant alone, waiting for you to never appear?  What, in your upbringing, makes you think it is acceptable to be so incredibly rude after you expressed interest in seeing her?

Answers please.

Love, Esme

And Women Are The Emotional Ones?

7 Sep

Dear Perfect,

So we went out the other night.  I owed you, it was my turn to be designated driver.  I didn’t dress up, since I was just going out with you.  Its one of the things I liked about our arrangement, I don’t have to dress to impress.

You showed up at my place, and the first thing you said is we need to pick up a female friend of yours.  Cool, I replied.  Always down with meeting new people.

Let’s just fast forward a few hours.  You and your friend are wasted, plowed, drunk off your asses.  You guys decided you had to have private conversations.  Both of you are huddled in the corner, and I am on the other side of the long table.  Playing with my water glass.  Swirling my straw around the ice.  Every once in a while, you would look over, say you are sorry, and resume your convo.  I was BORED, and I looked like a loser.

We finally got to leave, you came back to my place because you were waaaaayyyyyy to drunk to be alone.  I wound up having to start a line on you, you were so bad.  You finally passed out at 330, but not until after you had a few words for me.

You know Esme, you should be sleeping with a few different guys.  How do you know what’s out there if you don’t?

I was shocked, floored, flustered.

Perfect, the arrangement that we have does not stop me from going out on dates.  If I feel the need to sleep with any of these guys, I will let you know.  I don’t sleep with multiple men.

Esme, you said.  You are amazing. Awesome.  Incredible.  You are one of those rare finds, a keeper.  But…

You paused, and I looked at you.  But I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I Perfect.

You smiled, shook your head, and passed out.  I had to stay awake longer and make sure your IV finished.  I finally laid down a half-hour later, drained of all emotions.

In the morning you had no recollection of our conversation, of the things you said.  You snuggled with me in my bed, nothing physical happened.  And later you left.

The conversations that followed the next couple of days have me…I don’t know what.  Later on that day you informed me you couldn’t do the friends with benefits thing anymore.  You were afraid I would become attached and get hurt.  I laughed.  No problem there, Perfect.  I said.  I am not going to fall in love with you.  You seemed happy with that response.

The next conversation is what threw me for a loop.  You told me you are in love with the person we went out with that night.  I know, I figured by your actions, I said.  And you also told me I wasn’t good enough for you, so I am aware of your feelings.

I told you what? you asked.  I reiterated the story for you, word for word.  Wow, you said.  I would never tell you you aren’t good enough.  But you did, I said.  And I want to know why.  Why don’t men want a best friend and a lover?  Why is it I am great and awesome, but not good enough for you?

You went on some long song and dance of how it was you, not me.  (DUH).  How you are messed up.  How you are still struggling with feelings from your ex-wife, and now you love a friend of yours you have known for 15 years.  And she returns those feelings.  She is married, by the way.  Are you forgetting that fact?  Maybe she will do to you what you did to me.  Go out with you for a while, then dump you for her husband.  Karma goes full circle.

You tell me I am the only person you have ever trusted enough to tell everything to.  You said you never even told your wife about your feelings for this other woman.  You said you trust me with everything.  You are telling me so many things I don’t really want to hear.  I didn’t realize how much hearing these things would hurt.  It does.  It hurts that you couldn’t have these feelings for me.  Ever.

I am realizing now that our friendship is pretty one-sided.  You call me when you need to talk.  For the most part, when I call you to talk you always manage to turn the conversation you.  You only want to see me when it is convenient for you.  These truths hit me like a ton of bricks.  And now I am upset and angry.

I opened myself up to you.  I made myself vulnerable.  I was honest.  I had no walls when it came to you.  It took me a lot, A LOT to let myself be your friend again.  To let you back in.  Sure I have some lingering feelings for you.  I have been honest about it.  You said you understood, and you are ok with it.  But when things get turned around…when you have feelings for someone else even, you tell me it is getting too hard to be my friend.  WHAT?

It’s too hard to be my friend?  Why?  You have no answer for me.  You said you can tell me everything, and now your vulnerable.  Now that you have feelings for someone else, it isn’t right that I know all of that.  Isn’t right that you continue to talk to me when you still care for me, but love someone else.

Ouch.  I point out to you once again she is married.  You said you know.

What am I supposed to do in this situation?  I guess the only thing I can do is step aside, and let you do what it is you feel like you need to do.  I wished you luck and hung up the phone.

Today you keep texting me, wanting to talk about this new love.  Am I really supposed to go through this?  I don’t tell you about my dates.  How I got stood up the other day, and how it was a blow to my self esteem.  But you want to pick apart everything that was said to you by this girl.

I am not sure I can do this.  I am not sure I can sit and listen to this.  I am not sure if I can continue to be your friend.

Love, Esme


4 Sep

Dear Perfect,

Well, there is a first time for everything.  Yesterday I answered my first booty-call.  I have never met up with someone for that reason, and that reason only.  And there I was…

I was on my way home from work when my phone chirped.  I had a text message.  I flipped the phone open, and read the message from you.  One word: Sex.

I thought for about 3.4 seconds.  I replied: When?

Chirp! Now.


I ended up spending the night at your place.  This morning when I left your apartment, I had the pleasure of running  into your fat disgusting neighbor.  He gave me a once over, which made my skin crawl, and smirked at me.  I wanted to tell him in no way I was doing a walk of shame, but more like a walk of fabulous.  I bit my tongue and hummed to myself as I walked to my car.  Today was a beautiful day.

Thank you!

Love, Esme