One night when Amy wasn’t around, I kissed her boyfriend, Carter. Maybe I kissed him a few times.
When a guy’s cheating on his girlfriend with you, her heartache is abstract and distant. Like that tree falling in a forest: if you can’t see the guy’s girlfriend crying, she isn’t really crying. In fact, if you can’t see her crying, maybe she doesn’t even really exist. Right?
Carter was one of my roommates. Amy lived in the apartment directly below us. She was beautiful, uber athletic, and had cheerleader-like perma-pep.
Carter and Amy had been dating for a few months when he and I began emailing at work. First it was about roommate things: dishes, laundry, getting rid of that old couch. Then slowly about making dinner together, what movie to watch that night, meeting for drinks. The emails got funnier and Carter and I got closer.
One day Carter and I went grocery shopping and on our way home we sat on the steps of a church and kissed.
We became addicted to each other’s lips. We kissed on the stairs in our apartment, we kissed in the shower, we kissed on the kitchen counter. We kissed pretty much whenever no one was looking. The rate of emails at work picked up and the emails got sexier. Dinners became candlelit. And all the while, Carter was still finding time to see Amy. I was officially ” the other woman.”
One night Carter and I were fooling around and there was a knock at the door. I opened it with my tousled hair and there was Amy. “Oh, hi,” she said when she saw my flushed face. Then Amy saw Carter at the top of the stairs, looked back at me, said nothing, and left. My heart was pounding with guilt.
The next day Carter broke up with Amy and officially became my boyfriend. It was unceremonious and sad. A few days later Amy emailed me and asked to have lunch. When we met it was raining and the café felt anything but cozy. Amy had no pep to her that day.
“Girls don’t do this to each other,” she said. “We have to stick together.”
I had never been confronted like this before and was really freaked out. Still, I told her she was right, and that I was wrong to not look out for my fellow girl. That I was wrong to only think about me and what I was gaining instead of what someone else was losing.
A few months later, Amy left San Francisco to join up with Teach for America. Carter moved to Boston, and I moved to Los Angeles. Carter and I did the long-distance dating thing for another year and then we broke up.
I’ve never been the other woman again. I’ve been in a forest and heard a tree fall and it makes a very loud, very heart breaking sound. A sound I think I could stand to hear only once.
WDYT? Have you ever been the other woman? Has your honey broken up with you over another gURL? Who do you blame in a situation like this–the “other woman” or the guy? Tell us everything below!
Danielle Lurie is a filmmaker and photographer and lover of Calvin and Hobbes. Do you want to share your confession? Let us know what it is. We might just feature it.