Ashley Madison was the first adult social web site I had ever registered an account. I was looking for sex. Discretely. After a run of post-divorce hookups and a period of time when I just stopped doing everything, I was looking to really connect again, but entirely unsure of many things. As a divorcee, I knew the landscape had change, but I was willing to put on a brave face and get back out in the market. I went back onto that app. And then a friend asked me, why are you looking at a place where people go to hide? I truly never thought of it that way. Since then, I’ve registered with Tinder and a bunch of other adult sites. Very shortly after that, I met someone. A person of extreme interest—I’ll just call P.O.E. for short.
I knew Poe was married right from the get-go but at the time, I didn’t care since I wasn’t opposed to a casual hookup. We’ll meet once. Maybe twice. Three times if there’s something more. Well, Poe and I met way more times than that. We connected well intellectually too. Emotionally, we shared some of our deepest thoughts through phone conversations, sexting and pillow talk. In fact, I discovered that in a single year, we texted each other over 30,000 times!
We weren’t exclusive. I was still sleeping around with other people and Poe knew that. Poe was married and I knew that. But the husband didn’t know anything. It wasn’t entirely an open marriage. But it wasn’t my place to judge. A few people close to me asked why I was involved with someone already married. It really didn’t bother me—until it did. I once asked Poe what would happen if the husband found out. It would be the end. I naïvely thought it was an open door and walked in. I ignored all the warnings and got too involved.
After a series of missed hook-ups and long exchange of messages, I was told that I had known about the marriage which wasn’t going to change, and that I always had the option not to wait. It stung me. It dawned on me that Poe and I never talked on evenings and weekends. We never spent any time in public. I’ve always hosted and never been to Poe’s house. The reality is that our situation was never on equal terms. Perhaps Poe was ashamed of what I represented. Perhaps Poe just treated me as a side-gig. Perhaps I wasn’t worth giving it up. Overcome with rejection and isolation, I decided that I didn’t want to exist in the shadow of someone else’s marriage. It’s not fair to any of us. I scraped the remaining dignity I had left and ended it. The hundred SMS per day went to zero. Four-hour phone calls fell silent. And it was deafening. I guess a part of me knew that Poe had the ability to hurt me. A part of Poe always knew that I’d be the one to walk those unhurried steps. I had a mess of emotions to work through and haul ass to my familiar dark place.
I never said that daddy, but I always thought it was a bit weird that you were the boyfriend to someone who was married, and the husband didn’t know about it.
My daughter had also gotten to know Poe and the two got along well. They’ve met a few times and often when I’m on the phone, my daughter would insist on being part of the conversation on speaker phone. Noticing the absence, my daughter asked how come I don’t speak to Poe anymore. “Well, we kind of decided that we can’t move forward. Poe’s married. Remember I told you that?” My daughter was silent. “Do you miss Poe?” I asked her. I only want you to be happy, daddy. “You’re a sweet kid. I don’t think Poe’s going to get a divorce.” Were you expecting one? “I’m not sure. I never expected any of this to happen. Even though you teased daddy by calling me The Boyfriend, we never really spent any time together.” She obviously doesn’t know about all my hookups. My daughter was silent again. “Do you think I deserve better?” I asked breaking her silence. I never said that daddy, but I always thought it was a bit weird that you were the boyfriend to someone who was married, and the husband didn’t know about it. “You’re right. I should never live within someone else’s limitation. Thanks for reminding me.”
Uncannily, I never expected my daughter to give me frank reflections on adult situations. I tell my daughter that she should surround herself with friends who can truly be there for her when times are good and especially when they are not. How can I accept any less and still be a role model to her? I actually felt better after talking to her because I did struggle on how best to tell my daughter that Poe and I are over even when it never really began.
Notwithstanding my feelings and me being powerless to act on them, I still feel compassionately even though Poe isn’t in my version of reality. We did see each other very briefly after the ‘break’. It didn’t feel awkward. I wasn’t mad. I am not sure what I felt. Almost a sense of unfulfillment? A path not taken? A relationship not explored? Maybe I was walking along the beaten path to depression.
Some dads have shared with me their similar pains. We all have our own versions. And we all find our paths to heal. For me, though, this experience has taught me three things. That someone saw me, not as a replacement husband or father to their kids, but as an equal. That I can be an equal to another without jeopardizing my fatherhood and everything I have built up with my daughter. And, that I can move through this without feeling I was victimized with lingering resentment. Having a bit of pause and a good heart-to-heart with my daughter made me feel infinitely better, too. She is after all, my Number One.
I miss Poe. A lot. Although, Dr. Seuss may have said ‘Don’t cry because it is over; smile because it happened,’ I don’t think I’m there. A part of me still holds on to the amber of moments past. I’m not sure whether that makes me a hopeless romantic or gullible rejection junkie. I think I am both.
