Adultry, affair recovery, betrayal, books, cheating, cheating men, cheating women, dating, infidelity, life, love, marriage, Rants, recovering from an affair, relationships, self image, self reflection, sexuality, TRIGGERS, what do women think
Today I traveled to a nearby city for a medical procedure. This city is the home of Wonderful Ms Molly. One of the “other women”. Needless to say every mile closer I got, the more pissed off I got. This lovely lady, very well to do, was kind enough to offer my partner an offer like he’d never had. Be my boy toy. Oooooolala. Talk about having your cake and eating it too. That must have been a real cock motivator!! ATTENTION!!!
Molly is an attractive middle aged woman with a nice figure. Pretty blue eyes. Now I apologize to any blue eyed readers but I happen to prefer brown eyes. MY brown eyes, dark and sensual. So, she can flash her baby blues and get herself as many boy toys as she wants to have. I’d rather use my brown eyes to look seductively into the eyes of someone I love sending the message that I am about to unleash my wildest passion for them. Only them. Because I love them.
Molly is also an author. That one hit hard. I’ve always loved writing and until recent years when my spirit simply closed down and my muse abandoned me, I had hoped that one day I might myself take the risk of being published. Finding out she was an author was like a kick in the heart. If I wasn’t already dancing with writers block.. I sure as hell am now! Not because she is a better writer than I am. Because I am to F’ing rebellious to allow him to associate me with any of the string of whores he’s enjoyed. And because it simply kills for me the interest in pursuing the dream. Still, I looked up miss “I got published” and found that she specializes in science fiction romance. Most of her publishing is on a website she joined up on with some guy who has a fascination with the concept of Alien sex and posts an abundance of alien related porn. NICE! laughable actually. It get’s better. Turns out this weird man is her x-husband. Screw loose as he appears to be he also seems to have been her ticket to getting published. Self published through his money and his contacts. He is quite well educated and published frequently himself. Paying him a visit on Facebook I also learn that he’s not a lot different than my partner has been when it comes to the insatiable need to flirt and be flirted with. But let’s not completely dismiss Wonderful Molly. She does have one book published and on Amazon.com I found it funny that after some research the only reviews listed are from family members, namely her mother who portrays herself as a completely unrelated reader who just discovered the best fiction writer since Stephen King. So I took advantage of the look inside feature and did a little reading. I mean how can you resist a review that promising?! Now I know I am a bit wordy, and I take too long to tell the story, but in comparison Molly’s writing is childish, simplistic. It lacks passion. It evokes no connection with the characters. A best selling author she will never be.
A little further research reveals that she is a massage therapist and she believes she can heal you through messages she receives from “somewhere” (perhaps aliens?) which she communicates through automatic writing. I’m not calling her a nut case. He husband or x husband is pretty prominent. She had the foresight to marry well, take advantage of it, travel the world, and get part of the money. And… I’m pretty open minded about such matters as healing and spirits. It’s the combination of the entire scenario that strikes me as odd and a little pathetic. Perhaps pathetic is too strong a word. But she lacks authenticity. She is shell. Trying hard to project an image. Never the less, simply knowing she has accomplished something I had once longed to do, is a bit intimidating and soul crushing. And it PISSES ME OFF!!! All I can say is I hope she was a great fuck (Sorry for the anger language) because it is clear to me that she has not a fraction of the substance or depth I have in my soul. Not that I don’t have days when a collection of boy toys might not be nice… 🙂