I was chatting the other day with Kane about being the third party in a relationship. I was then asked if I ever was one, the other man. I said no.
That night, I was still bothered by that answer. I don’t know why, I was sure during that time I was telling the truth. I’ve never been the other man.
And then it hit me. I did. I was. I’ve been the other man. I’ve been a male mistress. I entered into a relationship before knowing that I am not the only guy in someone’s life. It was with the good time guy.
Third party isn’t even accurate. I was the fourth party. The guy hag a girlfriend and a boyfriend at the same time he had me. But that time, I knew I had the upper hand because we were working together. We see each other all the time, and the sex was great.
The relationship did not last long. I had to let go of the awesome sexy time, because apart from that, the two of us had nothing. We have nothing in common. Every time we try to start a conversation, talk about each other, we always ended up fighting. Plus add the fact that back then, I wasn’t ready to tell the world who I was, and that was his problem. He wanted us to hang out in public places where my subordinates then would easily see us. I can’t do that. He was sweet and all, but once 5pm comes, he cuts all communications with me to be with his number one or number two (I don’t care to remember anymore).
It was a crazy one month, what we had. But I don’t think I’d ever do that again, being the third party. Even if let’s say they tell me they’re in an open relationship. I wouldn’t want to hurt someone intentionally (and myself if that person decides not to choose me in the end).
And then there’s karma.
I hear she’s a bitch.
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