My name is Stacey (for the purpose of this story) and I am 42. I had to write this story because I couldn't tell anyone about it, and it was driving me mad.
For starters, let me describe a bit of my life so you can be in context. I met Mark, my husband (Mark, for the purpose of this story), at college and we dated a few times. By that time I didn't saw him as the man of my life, my dream to marry and have children. But we were young, and we were stupid. I had plans, but they fell. As I was saying before, we were young and stupid, and so, we got pregnant, even before finishing college.
That was hard on us, but we learned to live with it. We dropped college and found jobs, grew a family and as a family. Mary (only for the purpose of this story) grew up and is now studying at University, and that was when it hit us harder.
Since Mary was born, we have only lived for this family. We worked in order to bring home food and to pay up mortgage, we spent our free time together sawing our child grow up and trying to give her the best in life.
But since she left, everything has changed. We fight more and more, we sit for hours watching TV without talking to each other. Our life has reached a standstill. We didn't know what to do.
I guess our fights were exactly as are the fights for the most couples. We yelled about money, vacations, sex and love. Many times Mark accused me of not want to have sex with him anymore, and I accused him of not paying attention to me, not love me anymore. Everything was true and everything didn't deal with the real problem. Two people that live only for each other and within themselves are bonded to come one day absolutely empty.
So, one of this fights got messy. Mark yelled at me one more time about me not giving him enough sex and I yelled at him that he might get more if he just be a little more romantic, shown a little more attention. But this time he went further, he said with one of the most serious voices that he would look for it elsewhere and he was going to left me. And he left.
It was a Sunday, and I went to bed waiting for him to return. I didn't cry, because I was not sure if I loved him by that time. But I didn't slept well either. I was thinking about my life, thinking that everything got to change.
Next day I called sick. I slept a bit in the morning and left for the train station. I got a ticket for another town and got on the train. The town was not important, what was important was that I needed to think and I wanted to do it in a park, what I couldn't do here because I had called sick and too many people know me.
This was a very nice park, one of my favorites, with a nice snack-bar where you can just sit there, enjoy the morning sun and read. I had brought a book, because I knew I would be there for a while, and because I like to read when I'm thinking what to do with my life.
I ordered a tea and just sit there reading. After about two hours this guy seats at my table just looking at me, saying nothing. I ask if he wanted something and he said he thought I was very pretty and would like to just sit there looking at me.
There were only a couple of tables with people, so there was plenty of space free for him to sit. I asked him to leave me alone, I wanted to be there all by my self, just reading. But he didn't left. He asked me if he could have a coffee with me. I told him he could have the coffee there if he promised he would leave after.
He promised, but he didn't leave. We stood there talking about nothing. It was feeling good all the attention, but I was just thinking that the guy was a jerk. I still do. But he kept staying and we kept talking. After about two hours, and he have not mentioned yet, I had decided that if he asked, I would have sex with him.
This is where it gets tricky. You might think that I was turned on by him, I wasn't. You might think that he said something that made me give away, but he didn't. You might think that I was feeling lonely and got into the arms of the first jerk to happened to be there, but it was like that. After he talked for a while, I wasn't even listening anymore. I was a jerk and I realized that quickly. But as he stood there talking, I stood there not listening and thinking. I realized what was wrong with my life. I realized what I wanted. I wanted change. Of course I didn't thought that this would be the guy I would be running with from my husband. He was not the guy for anything really. But he could easily be the guy to have sex with. He wasn't pretty, he wasn't attractive, he was a jerk. But would have to do. Sex would be the brake in my life I needed by then. After I did it, nothing would be the same again. So, I kept waiting for him to ask. And he asked.