Guest Blogger: Inara Part 7 – The End

A few months later.  A bourbon infused, embarrassing snoop session told me that he’s got a new girlfriend.

I hate being right

Seeing in print that he has a new, beautiful, young thing who he is showering with gifts feels like my worst fear is coming to fruition.

She’s a significantly younger artist. Beautiful in the tragic kind of way that usually comes with a generous, tender heart. She looks like a girl who is an old soul and wise beyond her years. One who wants nothing to do with boys her own age. Thin in a coltish way. Big eyes and a young, untouched face.  2016 will be her first time in the voting booth.

This is the kind of girl who can be hours late for a get together. Who will frequently curl inward, hating herself. Who will demand more and more attention. She fuels her paramour’s fire because she’s so stunning and fragile and kind that it’s impossible not to love her; and she’s kinky. Very much so.

It’s hard to picture her helping with his three children, the oldest of which is less than a decade her junior. Nonetheless I can see him leaving for her, drawn in by her fragility and innocence and the high of trying to save her.

Knowing about her brings an extra set of shame.

I am not a young, artistic, thin sparrow. I feel big and demanding and awkward and old. I have enough years on me to dull my sweetness into skepticism.

Strangely, I feel embarrassed that I don’t wear my hurt on my sleeve. Most of the trauma of my childhood and 20s has been handled in therapy or gets shoved aside in favor of handling my life.  There’s never been anyone else to share those duties. No one would ever meet me and think I’m someone who needs to be taken care of.

I feel sick thinking about him getting lost in her body. Thinking about what a fool he was to think he loved me – or almost worse – not thinking about me at all. I try to focus on other things, but can’t help imagining him excitedly waiting for her emails, looking at her the way he did me, doing with her the things that I loved to do.

It is strange to have thought you were so significant in someone’s life, only to realize you were just another temporary diversion and are easily replaced.

A year ago I wrote him a scathing email.  It was during one of our angrier exchanges when Matt told me for the umpteenth time that he was going to give his marriage “one last shot”.  It said that if he didn’t get a divorce, I knew he’d go back to seeing sex workers or, worse, have another affair. That he’d replace me and leave for her, or leave that one and leave for the next.

I didn’t hear from him for three days, which had never happened. He was angry and hurt. When he finally responded, he told me that he could never replace what we had. He wrote that we were a once in a lifetime thing. Ironically, it was in that email that he first told me he was in love with me.

In addition to the shame, I feel jealous not only of the women in his life, but also of Matt himself. He has so much love and lust all around him. He knows that both his wife and I would do anything for him. He knows that I still miss him terribly.

What would it be like to know that there are two (possibly more) people who would give anything to be with you?

While I don’t hate being with my clients, I am certainly not having the kind of sex we had, or the kind of sex I would prefer. I envy his ability to find that so easily.

I miss him.

I miss him an embarrassing amount considering the time that has gone by.  Considering that even though we had contact, we’ve only been in the same room twice in the last year. I wake up sometimes expecting to be in our bed in his little apartment, or reach out to my phone thinking I’ll find a “Good morning, baby” text message. When I’ve had an especially long day, I crave curling up in his lap, pressing my face into his chest with his arms wrapped around me. There are times when I remember his scent so intensely that I would swear he’s in my apartment.

I can’t bring myself to sell tickets we have for a concert two months from now.  Selling them feels like finally accepting that the future we dreamed about isn’t happening, that I won’t ever get to hear his gravely voice in my ear or hold his hand again. Even though I know that is true intellectually, it is a struggle to accept it in my heart.

I would like to say more than anything I miss our friendship, or the teamwork that helped us navigate the ups and downs of getting his new job and led me through an especially trying experience with one of my non-sex work projects. Unfortunately that wouldn’t be entirely true.

I miss the sex, the romance, and the affection.

They are one in the same for me. Sex without a deep emotional and intellectual connection, and without being able to muddle through mundane stuff together, is basically just like being at work. Friendship without sex is, well…friendship. I miss all of it in a way that sometimes makes it hard to breathe; knowing he doesn’t miss me the same way just adds fuel to the tears.

It’s been four months and I am slowly adjusting to the idea that I will never hear from him again.I am trying to glean lessons from my grief; the main one being that perhaps being temporary is what I’m good at.

Every day I try to think about him less. I try to distract myself with work and tasks and crappy TV. I try to emulate Matt’s ability to accept that things are over and move on with his life.

Maybe I should stop fighting it and instead embrace it and capitalize on it instead of chasing the ideal of being someone’s one and only.

At the same time, I’m working hard to make myself better inside and out. Hoping that if I can just make myself kinder, more thoughtful, more skilled, thinner, fitter, prettier,

…then maybe one day someone will say they want to stay and mean it.


9 Comments Add yours

  1. Stacy sugar says:

    I want you to crawl in my lap! I want to look you in the eyes and tell you how much value you have! You are worthwhile.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Anonymous says:

    I’m sorry for your loss. But face it – guys who stray are turned on by diversity and change . You can be that 10 that we go to because our wives-also at one point a 10 for us -became old hat . You are still a 10 and I’m sure a wonderful person , but you became the same ole to Matt . Don’t worry ,new artist girl will be the same ole in a little while . Don’t fall in love with a cheater.


  3. You have so much value! Don’t ever feel like you don’t! You will find the love, affection, and attention you deserve soon. ❤️


  4. Roy says:

    After having read the story in its entirety, I’m faced with many thoughts and had to let the reactive emotional dust settle first. What remains, is that Matt was clearly never the man you conjured and fell in love with. He was simply scaffolding upon which you built an image of your own desire. He will repeat his selfish ego-driven pattern and hurt others. But his shortcomings certainly don’t reflect on your ability to find or have love. Its not that you weren’t worthy of him, but that he was never worthy of your love.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. uehobbyist says:

      Putting up these last few chapters was uncomfortable at times. I wanted badly to re-write the ending. However, if anything, this blog is about being honest with ourselves. As I was editing, I came to the belief that Inara and Matt were both convinced of how they felt for each other. I submit that Matt worked very hard to fuel that image. I imagine he believed it too, but in the end, took an exit which was easier than making the hard choice. I bet he feels love, guilt and loss. I was angry with him in the beginning, and am not defending him now. However, I don’t feel this is a cut and dry story of Matt selling a bill of goods and Inara naively believing it. It is a complicated and tragic story.

      @ Inara, thanks for letting me post your story. You are welcome around here any time. I’m sure some of the locals would love to see a post or two about your professional life 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Inara says:

    Thank you for giving me a space to tell my story. It is especially useful to put it in a space that men like Matt visit. As much as I try – and as much as I think I know him – I still don’t really know what it’s like to be one of you.

    I agree with some of the comments here and on other posts, although I will say I don’t think I foisted a fantasy onto him. Something left out for length is that we have a fair amount of friends, both “vanilla” and providers, in common and I’ve discussed this with some of them. The things I saw in him, good and bad, were things everyone saw. If anything, I think he created a fantasy out of me. I think he wanted to believe he loved me, partly because I was someone he used to pay and then dug him so much I gave it up for free, but he just didn’t.

    The very recent epilogue is that he’s going to be getting a divorce to be with his new girlfriend. I think our time together made him realize that a solid partnership that also involves sex and a heavy level of kink is possible and helped him get comfortable with the idea of ending his marriage, but I just wasn’t the one for him. He’s said that he can’t believe his luck in finding his new mate and it’s enough to want to leave.

    UE, thank you so much for your editing and patience and giving me a spot to process this. I’d be happy to write about my professional life once I’m in a peppier place; I think your blog has seen enough maudlin writing for a while!

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Anonymous says:

    It is rare in my experience for the exiting spouse to stay with the object of their passion who empowered them to leave. Those unfortunate folks -in this case both you and artist-will be considered rebounds .


  7. Inara says:

    God, I hope so. It’s really hard to find someone who is into our kink + into the same real life stuff, and I’m so envious that lightning struck twice for him (and so fast!). I’d love for him to be in the indefinite dry spell hell I’m currently experiencing. I don’t think he’s ever known what it’s like to feel rejected or hopeless or not good enough, so fingers crossed you’re right!

    But in my experience – or, rather, in my social circle – 90% of the relationships that started as affairs have lasted so far (the most recent is at 6 years, the longest just celebrated 11). They all met as provider/client, so maybe the amount of honesty that happens in those relationships makes them different? Or it could be that my friends are all just lucky freaks.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. uehobbyist says:

      I think there is something to be said for meeting as provider/client. You are naked and having sex within the first thirty minutes of laying eyes on each other. Friendship, or any other kind of relationship has to be earned afterwards in brief moments of time together.


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