Inappropriately Exquisite- The Mutual Crush When You Are Married
“My idea of the perfect man is George Clooney with his eyes glued to mine in rapt attention.” I told my husband one evening as we lounged in bed. He was playing a video game and responded with a bored “um.”
The man ignoring me didn’t know it, but I was talking less about “George Clooney” and more about the crush I’d developed on another man: a guitar playing deity I’d met while teaching music at a store downtown.
Honestly, my co-worker would have been the last person I’d pick as a romantic partner if I had been single. At 50 years old, he was a decade and a half older than me, and that’s just where it started. I’m a boring, buttoned up classical piano teacher. He’s an aging rocker with hair straight out of the 80’s. I drink tea, he smokes pot. We are completely different.
Yet for whatever reason, I was smitten. His creativity and sensitivity got me. Then there was the way his eyes took me in and internalized my being.
It started with small conversations between two teachers. If it was appropriate to teach the G major scale or when to introduce the circle of 5ths. Totally innocent stiff. Then, when I found him willing to listen and affirm my feelings about the job, the more time I spent thinking about him.
It didn’t happen over night, but over the course of several months I became bombarded by the essence of this man. I started to imagine running into him at the grocery store. I’d think about what I would say to him during our next conversation and I’d get dressed in the morning with him in mind. Smitten quickly turned into obsession.
He picked up on the vibe, and started finding reasons to touch me. He’d place his hand on my lower back when passing me by the copy machine, and his hand would “accidentally” graze mine when I handed him a pencil. We gazed at each other lovingly, and although we never talked about anything truly deep or personal, there was always so much left unsaid in our eyes. The longing was intense, and I recklessly fantasized about him grabbing me passionately in the supply closet, in his car, or in the back alley behind the school.
Inevitably things had come to a close. The beginning of the end happened the week after Valentines day. I got the feeling he knew he had to give an explanation about why our “relationship” wasn’t going anywhere. After all, my longing for him was obvious. My face was literally glowed with the passion I felt inside. My eyes burned with unsaid terms of endearment and my body tingled with electricity whenever I saw him. He approached me about it in the middle of one of our regular talks.
“Linda was really sweet to me last weekend. You know, for the holiday.” he whispered, sparing us both the awkwardness of having to hear the V word said out loud. I nodded, trying to maintain eye contact so he wouldn’t think I was hurt.
“Who is Linda?” I paused. “Your Mom?” I asked, staring oddly and hoping that it came across as funny, but more than likely seemed pathetic.
“No.” he articulated, not even pretending my comment was amusing, “she’s my girlfriend.” he spat out, and looked away. I was glad because I’m sure the pain that tore through me showed clearly on my face.
“Well, you’re lucky then.” I managed to eek out, not wanting to know the details. After all, what could I say? I was married and his admission made me half realize that I didn’t actually want to cheat.
He then seemed genuinely relieved. He’d said what he needed to. That he wasn’t coming after me because he was attached.
He talked to me freely after that, and even gave me a hug, but I drove home in a stupor that afternoon. I wished he’d never mentioned the woman who shared his bed.
A few weeks later I found out he was married. Looking back it had been obvious. He had always worn a ring on that finger and I had simply been in denial telling myself that he wore other jewelry and maybe just liked the look of it. But, when the secretary mentioned his wife and the internet confirmed it, I could no longer bury my head in the sand.
Of course whether he was married or had a girlfriend didn’t change anything much, but it did expose to me how much even a small lie could change my perception someone else. It made me realize just how horrible I would feel if I had to lie to my husband about something significant, and how much worse he would feel if my lies were exposed.
In the end, we simply had to avoid each other. I’ll always love my adult crush object in some way, but I’m glad for the sake of my marriage that we never did anything but hug, talk, and exchange knowing glances. A relationship can’t thrive on top of lies, and to have an affair would be the ultimate deception.
Pieces of Me 