HimakoLady15
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- Posted: Sun, 29 Apr 2012 06:45:12 +0000
This idea for a story has been running around my head for a while now. I finally wrote an intro of sorts down, but I'm thinking of not continuing it. I thought I would it drop it in here and see what other people thought. Tell me what you think needs to be change, and if you think it's a good idea to continue or not please.
The story is a memoir type story about a mistress who is telling her side of the affair. It's written in first person.
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As the years have passed, I have noticed an unusual trend. People are falling in “love” at a younger and younger age. Instead of waiting to get married, they are getting married straight out of high school or during college. I watched it happen to people close to me. First my best friend became engaged in her senior year of high school, and married her so-called love three months later. My sister even joined the movement, engaged to her boyfriend at sixteen and married the day of her seventeenth birthday.
At seventeen or eighteen, people don’t always understand the difference between love and lust. Lust can be immediately, like love at first sight. No one has ever said that lust ends when two people sleep together. It doesn’t. Sometimes it can last for years. Love is completely different. But I regress. My definition of love will be revealed during my story.
Marriages that are based on lust don’t always last, and things become mucky fast especially if children are involved. The lust runs its course, leaving nothing behind but dislike, hatred, and apathy. The passion that their marriage was based on disappears. Life becomes boring, lacking any joy. So in an attempt to bring excitement back to their life, men and women turn to extramarital affairs. It provides a thrill of excitement while providing them with a escape from reality. It also allows them to release some of that sexual tension.
Most of the time, these affairs never reach the media. They happen between the wife and the cute clerk at the library or the husband with his busty brunette coworker. They take place between normal people that you deal with everyday. Affairs take place between the people walking beside you or sitting next to you. Most of them are just kept secret. It’s only when someone famous is caught in an affair that people actually begin thinking of them, wondering who is sleeping with who.
Sometimes it’s the other woman that comes forward, bring proof of the affair with her. Sometimes the man does the right thing and confesses while in rare cases, the wife files for divorce and informs the world with the sordid tale. The stories come forth soon after the news reaches the media. The man tells his story about how it was a mistake, that he regrets it and will never do it again. Meanwhile the wife stands by his side, supportive and regal. Everyone mentions how brave she must be to stay with him. The children, if there are any, are kept out of the media and away from the gossip. They are innocent in their parents’ mistakes.
However, there is someone that is forgotten in this little tale: the other woman. Yes, sometimes she is mentioned, but no one really cares about her. They are more interested in the scandal than the emotional trauma left behind.
Ordinary I follow the crowd in the name calling: home wrecker, whore, gold digger, attention slut. She wanted to be famous, seduced someone and then tried to ruin a marriage with blackmail and threats. How can a woman like that be forgiven? How can she explain her actions to satisfy people? Surely there is no excuse to start a relationship, even a causal sexual one, with a married man. Unfortunately because she has had her few minutes of fame, the media turns a blind eye to her story. It goes untold.
Now I understand why most of the mistress crawl back into the shadows. No one cares, so why bother going out and being hurt again? The rumors and gossip can ruin one’s life, making it impossible to be happy again. Even jobs are hard to find for a known mistress.
How would I know that? Simple. I’m the other woman in a very sad tale. This will be my confession on why I began an affair with a married man. This will be the tale of the other woman.
The story is a memoir type story about a mistress who is telling her side of the affair. It's written in first person.
------------------------
As the years have passed, I have noticed an unusual trend. People are falling in “love” at a younger and younger age. Instead of waiting to get married, they are getting married straight out of high school or during college. I watched it happen to people close to me. First my best friend became engaged in her senior year of high school, and married her so-called love three months later. My sister even joined the movement, engaged to her boyfriend at sixteen and married the day of her seventeenth birthday.
At seventeen or eighteen, people don’t always understand the difference between love and lust. Lust can be immediately, like love at first sight. No one has ever said that lust ends when two people sleep together. It doesn’t. Sometimes it can last for years. Love is completely different. But I regress. My definition of love will be revealed during my story.
Marriages that are based on lust don’t always last, and things become mucky fast especially if children are involved. The lust runs its course, leaving nothing behind but dislike, hatred, and apathy. The passion that their marriage was based on disappears. Life becomes boring, lacking any joy. So in an attempt to bring excitement back to their life, men and women turn to extramarital affairs. It provides a thrill of excitement while providing them with a escape from reality. It also allows them to release some of that sexual tension.
Most of the time, these affairs never reach the media. They happen between the wife and the cute clerk at the library or the husband with his busty brunette coworker. They take place between normal people that you deal with everyday. Affairs take place between the people walking beside you or sitting next to you. Most of them are just kept secret. It’s only when someone famous is caught in an affair that people actually begin thinking of them, wondering who is sleeping with who.
Sometimes it’s the other woman that comes forward, bring proof of the affair with her. Sometimes the man does the right thing and confesses while in rare cases, the wife files for divorce and informs the world with the sordid tale. The stories come forth soon after the news reaches the media. The man tells his story about how it was a mistake, that he regrets it and will never do it again. Meanwhile the wife stands by his side, supportive and regal. Everyone mentions how brave she must be to stay with him. The children, if there are any, are kept out of the media and away from the gossip. They are innocent in their parents’ mistakes.
However, there is someone that is forgotten in this little tale: the other woman. Yes, sometimes she is mentioned, but no one really cares about her. They are more interested in the scandal than the emotional trauma left behind.
Ordinary I follow the crowd in the name calling: home wrecker, whore, gold digger, attention slut. She wanted to be famous, seduced someone and then tried to ruin a marriage with blackmail and threats. How can a woman like that be forgiven? How can she explain her actions to satisfy people? Surely there is no excuse to start a relationship, even a causal sexual one, with a married man. Unfortunately because she has had her few minutes of fame, the media turns a blind eye to her story. It goes untold.
Now I understand why most of the mistress crawl back into the shadows. No one cares, so why bother going out and being hurt again? The rumors and gossip can ruin one’s life, making it impossible to be happy again. Even jobs are hard to find for a known mistress.
How would I know that? Simple. I’m the other woman in a very sad tale. This will be my confession on why I began an affair with a married man. This will be the tale of the other woman.