Missing Like You

FIFTY-FOUR

Lexie
Friday May 28, 2021

Dear Diary,

I apologize for not writing in here sooner or giving you any updates on my situation. You probably thought I died or something. But worry not! I am alive and well. (Sort of.)

I did something bad... And I know you're going to think I'm a horrible person, but I don't even care about that right now. I need to write and I need to vent.

I did something bad. I started having an affair.

Yes, I know – I've become a cliché. Abused-by-husband-goes-out-and-seeks-love-elsewhere cliché. I don't know what to tell you. I didn't know what else to do. Things at home with Mark were getting so bad and I had nowhere else to turn. So I did something bad and created an account on Lenora Valentine. The first person I matched with was a guy named Scott. As soon as we started talking, something just clicked and I knew I had made the right decision, regardless of how risky it was.

I never intended for it to turn into anything more than a one-night stand. All I wanted was to go out and do something reckless, something the Old Lexie would have done. And I guess part of me wanted to get payback on Mark, even if it's a secret he'll never know about. It's something I have control of for once. This is the one thing in my life that I make decisions on. And I feel gratification knowing that Mark can't do anything about it.

Speaking of the Old Lexie, I've missed her a great deal. I've spent the past year of my life being a slave to domestication. I walked down the aisle in my white gown, I let him slip that ring on my finger, and every moment since that day, I've become someone else. New Lexie. Wife Lexie. Alexandra. That's what he calls me; as though my preferred name means nothing to him; just some immature label that possesses no class.

And thus, I turned into Alexandra. I became poised and sophisticated. I met new people and had great experiences. I've battled more demons than most wives do in their first year of marriage. And while I do admit I was happy in the beginning and was truly liking the person I had become, I can no longer say that appreciation still stands. I've grown so distant from who I once was. I've lost all morals and reverence for myself. If I had any ounce of self-respect, I would have walked out on him months ago. But I didn't. I've become weak and diminutive. I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize myself. When I smile, it's fake. When I kiss him, it's forced. When we go out in public together, it takes all of the strength inside of me to put on this show and pretend that everything is normal. That we are just an average couple, fresh newly-weds, happy and in love.

I guess the affair is my way of taking back all of the control that I've lost.

Scott and I have been seeing each other for about four months now. As I said, I never intended for it to become what it has. But the first time I met with him in person, we had this connection. I felt so close to him, as though I could open up and talk to him about anything. He, too, is married, so that makes me feel a bit better knowing I'm not the only sinner here. I've met someone who's doing the exact same thing as me, committing adultery and betraying the one's we love. The only difference between Scott and me is that he's doing this because he thinks he has a choice. I don't.

We meet at bars and hotel rooms. We go for late night drives around the city and get takeout at midnight. We talk for hours on end about everything under the sun, about things that matter. I feel so comfortable with him, as though I can completely be myself. He doesn't judge me or comment on the things I do. He doesn't yell at me. He doesn't hit me.

The only thing that has been getting me through my days as of late is Scott. I anticipate seeing him, and I spend the majority of my day counting down the hours until we can be together again. It's torturous, having this gravitational pull towards someone who you're not supposed to be with. Everything about our interactions is wrong, but it's everything I live for.

I haven't told Scott about Mark and the abuse. I do my best to keep my bruises hidden and never mention anything of the sorts. The most I've revealed is that my husband has a temper and likes to argue. I'd really prefer to keep Scott out of this mess. The less he knows, the better.

Despite cheating on his wife, Scott is a really good guy. He's kind and caring and protective. He gives me the allusion that I actually mean something. That I'm important and have a purpose. I guess I've forgotten that in the past year, only living to please Mark. But being with Scott reminds me that there's so much more to live for. I have so much potential. I just need to find the courage to finally break free.

Each and every day I spend with Scott is like a ticking time bomb. I'm living on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. At any moment, this perfect little world we've created for ourselves could collapse, everything caving in around us. But I'm addicted to it. Addicted to the rush, to the adrenalin, to him. I crave him every moment that I'm not with him. I long for his touch to linger on my skin. For his eyes to be looking into mine. Because when he does, it feels like he sees me for me.

We had the most perfect night together last night. We went for dinner at this beautiful restaurant just outside of Philadelphia. We're always sure to keep our interactions discreet, going places that none of our friends will accidently bump into us. I will admit, it's a little bit nerve-racking constantly living life on edge. But I love it. It's exhilarating.

Dinner was amazing. For an hour and a half, I got to pretend that I was someone else, living in this idyllic fantasy land. Scott as my lover, me as a girl who has everything and doesn't need to hide. We drank copious amounts of wine and hurried to a hotel nearby afterwards so that we could be together.

This feeling is inexplicable. It's pervasive and addicting and tantalizing all at once. It's everything I want, but everything I know I can't have. It's a hunger that cannot be satiated, a desire that can never truly be conquered. It's as though there's a war outside, and I've put on noise-canceling headphones. When I'm with him, all of the sounds and destruction fades away. I don't hear anything else. We are in silence, perfect harmony, and I cherish every second we have together. Because I know it won't last long. We only get a few hours together at best. And then we part ways, saying our goodbyes, and I go back to counting down the hours until I see him again.

It kills me knowing that if things were to end between us, Scott would simply go happily back to his wife. I have nothing left. I don't want to go back home to my husband. I wish Scott and I could runaway together and leave our old lives behind. Now wouldn't that be something.

If his wife were to discover the truth, their marriage would probably end. If my husband were to ever discover the truth, he'd probably kill me.