I had an affair with the grown son of my husband's best friend. We carried on for months, we had secret meeting spots, we had secret apps on our phones to communicate. In public, we interacted as we always had. Behind closed doors, our bodies would fuse together in the hottest, absolutely forbidden, most intense sexual debauchery I'd ever experienced.

I knew I was in trouble when I saw him on a date. Quite by accident, we were at the same restaurant. On my way outside for a smoke, I spotted him... He was sitting at a small table in the darkened bar with a girl. A girl his own age, a girl much more suitable than I was. Outside, I fought tears as I tried to reel in my foolish heart. What was I thinking? That I was the only one? What right did I have to be jealous? So what if he was on a date, I was there with my husband. Logically, I knew this to be true. But who has a logical heart?

Months passed, but the affair wasn't ending. The girl from the restaurant hadn't reappeared. And then one night, he said he loved me. Like a naive schoolgirl, my heart soared at his proclamation. I loved him, I'd known it that night at the restaurant. But I'd kept that feeling to myself, certain that what we had together was temporary. I'd enjoy it while it lasted and wish him well when it was over.

Then he said he loved me.

I moved out a few months later. Crashing with friends, couch surfing until I finally got my own place. And my very first night in my brand new home, he was there. In my bed, in my arms. It was a glorious time, finally to be held by him all night. Waking up to his smile. Coming home to love and laughter and hope.

I started to believe in forever again.

But forever is a foolish notion created by lovesick poets & exploited by Hallmark. How could a love that began the way ours did stand a chance? We fought an uphill battle from day one. We caused pain & misery & humiliation to both of our families. We lied to everyone for nearly a year while we carried on behind their backs. We lied to each other during that time. We lied to each other after my marriage was over. We lied to each other today.

More than 2 years have passed since that affair began. We lived together for over a year. Until he left me a month ago. Broken-hearted & alone, I have screamed & raged against the unfairness of the world, against him, & mostly against myself. How could I let my stupid heart get carried away when my brain knew better?

We were doomed before we started. Love needs a solid foundation. Building love on lies is like building your home in the sand. It'll crumble and fall, no matter how pretty it is.

I’m on my second beer when he sits down beside me at the crowded bar.

At first, I don’t acknowledge him, because I’m way too busy staring at the picture of JewBoy87’s penis on my phone and wondering when my life came to this.

Firstly, who sexts pictures of their genitals at eight p.m. on a Friday night? Someone with no life, who has nothing better to do than come home from work, make dinner for himself, before stripping down and taking photos at various angles of his very erect, very pink penis. Or someone who just has a folder entitled ‘Dick Pix’ on their smartphone just for show-and-tell moments like this...