Movie & drinks last night with a friend.  Usually we just hang at her house, watch some good weeknight tv, and I go home.  This time, I wanted to see a movie, and it was right next to a nice bar/restaurant, so we went there.  My mental state was pretty checked out of my marriage.

Walking in to theater alone, big white dodge ram, dried up mud up to the middle of it.  My kind of truck.  Loud and rumbly.  Clearly, only a hot 25-40 year old male would be driving that truck.

Truck drives past me, turns a corner to stop at stop sign.  Backs up.  Comes back at me.  Rolls window down.  HOT MAN DRIVING.  Scruffy, good face, rough.  “Hey beautiful.”  Me: smile and keep walking.  Him: “You got plans later?”  Me: smile and keep walking. 

See movie with friend.  Go to resturant.  Sitting at table in bar area.  Man approaches us and tries to make small talk.  Friendly, awkward, beta boy hitting on us.

It occurs to me that this happens to me all of the time.  I get attention everywhere I go.  I remember the day at the grocery store in December that I was wearing my heather grey yoga pants, had glasses on, a messy bun on top of my head, and no makeup.  I looked like I had just been to the gym, when really I had just gotten out of bed.  Yet, three, yes, THREE men hit on me AT THE GROCERY STORE.  That happened.  Beer aisle.  Produce dept.  Checkout lane.  Always smile and say “Aw, thank you- that’s so kind of you.”  “I’m married.”

It occurred to me last night that when I get hit on, I always, every single time it has happened over the last 12 years, have never escalated it.  Except with boxing boy in January.  But up until then, never.  But my husband, when he gets an option for sex outside of marriage, he has taken it.  Over and over and over and over again.  He probably has never turned it down.

I have always turned it down.  EVERY GOD DAMN TIME.  It’s sad and unfortunate.  And it hurts.

It hurts to know what I could have had, could have been doing (albeit with low morals), and how desired I could have been.

Any one of those men, I know that they would not neglect my breasts or tell me they don’t like them.  I know that they would devour me, kiss me passionately, that their hands would be exploring my entire body and loving it.  I know that they would WANT me to perform oral, to get crazy with them.  I know that they’d love to fuck me anywhere, any time.  But alas, I don’t go there because I’m “married.”  It’s not that I don’t want to.  And it’s not that I don’t think about it.  I have been neglected for so long, it would be so logical to stop resisting at some point.

And all the while, to now know that he was getting it with other women.  So wrong.