Was: guys who know a girl is dating someone else and kiss her anyway



I'm one of these. But wait, please don't judge me yet. The situation was not typical. It isn't what you're thinking.

She felt that her mother loved this guy more than she loved her own daughter. He has everything going for him. He's in vet school. And he's intelligent. And I guess he's good looking, although I would be a bad judge of this, seeing as how I feel the urge to rip his fucking lungs out whenever I see him. Anyway, her mother wants her to marry him, even though he cheats on her. Even though he thinks of her as more of an object, his girlfriend, future wife, more than anything else. He does not respect what she values.

At first I had a huge crush on her, and she seemed to respond as if she was interested. She was. I found out about him. I told her how I felt about her anyway. She was flattered.

Months go by. One night she calls. We talk. And talk. We get along very well, we always have. She begins to confide things in me as the days go by. I listen. I try to understand. But I keep my distance.

She tells me about him. She tells me she doesn't get along with him very well.

She says she tried to break up with him last year, when she did her mother would not speak to her at all. He would call up her mother on the phone and sob to her about how much he was in love. Her mother forced her back into a relationship with him that she did not want. I listen to all this. It hurts me. I feel sorry for her and for myself. If only I had been there for her a year ago... but the pain is not great, it is bearable.

We become very close. She says she feels like she can talk to me about anything. I feel the same way.


Then one day she tells me she is in love with me.

We see each other often. We sneak off together. But I never kiss her. I begin to feel bad about this. I wish she would leave him. She doesn't.

I see a therapist. He advises me that I'm not watching out for myself enough. He asks me if I want to kiss her at one point. I say, 'Yeah, of course.' He tells me I should.


I kiss her, even though I know she is dating someone else.

We sneak off together. Other people don't know. We're both moving out of town after the summer is over, then we'll be together without him. We'll be together. It hurts, but it is bearable.

I'm playing a local coffee house a few weeks later. She's probably off with him - I try not to think about it. I take a break, lay down the bass in the corner. She comes down the stairs. I blink, didn't know she was here. I smile. She doesn't. He follows her down.


I almost lose it. There's a knife in my pocket. My hand searches for it. She brushes into me as she walks by. She starts talking to me, small talk. He's right behind her, his arm goes around her waist. Fucker smiles his little smile as he fingers his property. I don't hear her now, I can't. I find the knife, struggle to get the blade open with one hand.


The piano player is next to me. He knows who she is, he knows who he is. He's foggy on the exact details of the situation that I've mumbled to him between tunes on past occasions. But he knows some shit is about to go down. His hand grips my arm. He prevents me from spending the rest of my life in prison.


With his arm still around her, he says, 'Would you like a mint?' I take it. I eat it. They leave.


A few weeks pass. We're talking about college next year. Her friend mentions in passing that she's attending a local community college. That's not right. She's going off with...

I grab her arm and walk with her until we're alone. She says she wanted to tell me herself. She said she can't afford to go. I got a scholarship. She didn't. She had known for weeks. All this time. She hadn't told me. It hurts. I can't take it anymore. I get out. But I still love her.

It started simple enough.

She was an old acquaintance; a friend of a circle of friends I had lost touch with... and a piece of my high school past I actually kept. She was a year my junior, and two grades behind. The Internet is similar to a grocery store in the sense that people you least expect to run into are always there. This scene begins away at school. A simple ICQ message started it off; conversation once sprouted, quickly spread, and we decided to get together, as friends. Pool and coffee were to be the diversions; though my aim is off, and my taste for coffee wanes, the company was the allure.

After I returned for a vacation, she picked me up at my home. We were to travel to a pool club she played at occasionally. I was quite entertained, but there was no magic per se. She said she never laughed harder before in her life. We played a few rounds, told a few jokes, and made a fun evening for both of us. In the end, I got a hug and left.

It was back over the cloud that we spoke next. We both remarked on our evening, and how much fun we both had. Weeks went by as I spent time in the semester, keeping up my work. Then she tells me she needs to get something off of her chest. It was so embarrassing for her to tell, she made me leave the room so she can write her thoughts and sign off line. The message was short, but it put me on quite a high.

I like you a lot Jay. I have ever since that night we played pool

She had a crush on me, what an interesting feeling. Warmth of feeling wanted comes over anyone who hears that from a stranger... a bit of self-worth and a smile creeps across one's face. I honestly didn't expect it. The prospect of a new person in my life always thrilled me, whether friend or more. Could this be a relationship? What could this be?

Weeks passed and we grew as friends...

Stories were told, rumors were exchanged, and gaps were filled in between our lives to date. It is a great feeling to have a person who feels "invested" in you, and we make that friendship stronger. Internet relationships and friendships have a strange anticipation to them; you develop an idealized attachment to people, and then it all lets out when you finally meet. We decided to find each other again, but I had a full set of things to do, and the hour trip home wasn't easy to make save for weekends. Then, I got a message that sunk out my heart.

I don't know how to tell you this; but I've met someone.

It's not that I was in love with her; I was more intrigued by her friendship and her being. She was a unique creature to be blunt; kind, sensitive, attractive in a way, alternative in ways and thought. She opened my eyes to a lot in the few short months I spent with her. I was single, but intrigued. That's not really a way to describe the feeling, but it's close.

His name is E***. He goes to your school. I met him over the internet.

That was a queer feeling. A man I've seen and maybe even spoken to, worse yet possibly knew was dating her. Turns out he pushed for a relationship fast, and he seemed like quite a gentleman. There is a sense of regret that my own reluctance pushed her into that relationship. My ignorance of a woman's heart had done this before, and has done it once since in my future.

We meet again, and things are different, yet the same...

We got together again, to head out to Northampton. We bomb around the city a bit, going to shops, getting some lunch, and then to hang out over a friend's house. She brings me home, and we sit parked outside my house, talking. I've always loved the sound of a female voice in private with me. There is always something sensual yet clean about it; a way that feels as of a breath of fresh air enters my lungs upon hearing it. She leaned across the seat against me, he head against my chest.

Her hair was black and coarse...

...As I ran my fingers gently through it, she remarked on how good it felt. I dared not go much further, as she was now taken by another guy. We talked for what seemed like an hour, bathed in the pale yellow glow of a distant streetlight. Her verbal enjoyment of the affection was hard to ignore, but I had to; it was the right thing to do. Temptation for me is itself a vice; I always crave the possibility and the fantasy, but I must hold back. It is a war I love to fight, even though I can never win. We drifted closer and closer together; her teasingly gentle breath set my face alive in a way I craved in my loneliness. It held me there, mesmerized by the simple sensuality; by then, it was too late.

Her kiss was soft and short...

Our lips just touched a second, but she took my speech with her. I obviously didn't know what to say. She spoke for me, putting a finger to my lips: "Don't worry. I know you wouldn't take advantage of me like that. It was my decision. I felt I had to." Thoughts came racing back into my head; urges, morality, wanting, loneliness, desire, ego, sorrow; they all yelled until there was only a loud din. I had only one way to silence them all.

She tasted sweet and dry... like a dusty wine.

We kissed again. Longer, deeper, fuller. This was not love, nor lust, nor sex. It was a deep friendship melding in a gentle way a hug could not give. That was the closest I ever felt to her. We left after that night, spending that short time together. After that we drew apart, me drifting away, moving to Seattle, pulling away from a friendship that climaxed that night. It never felt right after that; I never wanted to be more, but I never wanted to be less either. Both of our situations didn't work together, and we knew it. It was a stormburst of feeling, closeness, and friendship; never to shower on those fields again.

But then I had to meet him.

A year passed. We fell apart, then came back together online. A social message, an "I miss your company", a few stories swapped, and she was going to meet me at school. She still dated that guy, though he did not treat her well at all; and he himself was to pick her up from my place. I had to meet him, and that had me sick to my stomach. Her visit was only a few hours; she spent some time there with me, had lunch, and I got a friend's hug on the way out.

He greeted me gruffly, as if he shared my secret

She insisted that he didn't know, but guys have a sense when a woman isn't 100% with him. I finally met him; I now knew his figure, his voice, the look in his eyes. There was a look of distrust, of knowledge of my participation in some crime against their relationship. It stung me deeply, and she left quickly, unaware of the spiritual combat taking place. My life was quietly cursed with the memory of that glare; when I saw him across the library, on the way to a class, or in a restaurant. I don't know if he recognized me after that day; but in his heart of hearts, I don't think he'd forget.

That was the last time I saw her.

Helping a girl cheat, took away part of my soul. When selfishness, loneliness, and temptation overcome you to do something wrong, and to possibly hurt another soul, it's a different experience; it's hard to linger in that bliss afterwards. While in the moment it felt great, later it faded quickly. He turned out to be bad for her, which made my position more painful. I could have been that person to rescue her; her Knight. Did I cause her pain or give her hope? To this day, things between us are awkward.

I miss that moment of friendship, that moment of together, but I don't think we could ever have it again. I knowingly let her cheat with me, and for that I am guilty too.

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