When I was young, I was an ugly duckling. By the time I hit college I had come into my own, and had no short order of ladies pursuing me. I tried not to let it go to my head and focused on my studies, but in my third semester I walked into an English Composition class and saw the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. I was 19. She was 25. It was her first semester of teaching at the University. I sat right down in the front row.

Soon, we had established a repoir. We laughed and joked around during class, she commended the papers I handed in, and before and after class I'd lean against her desk and chat. She was a married woman, but she didn't seem to mind the flirtation.

After a few weeks in her class, she invited me out for coffee. We had a lot in common, and she was absolutely beautiful. We ended up at her place when her husband wasn't around and had an affair that lasted the rest of the semester. I was madly in love with the woman, or at least I thought I was at the time.

The next semester I had moved on to a Literature class, and she didn't teach it. Slowly, over the course of the next few months, her attention dwindled. She stopped answering my calls as much, was always busy when I wanted to see her, and eventually I didn't hear from her at all. Asking around, I found out she was seeing another student, and asking around further, found out that she had a fling with several students while I thought her and I were building something. Apparently it was something she did quite often. I saw her leaving her classroom one day and approached her, asked her, and she casually explained that I'd read too much into the situation. She said she had enjoyed my company but that all people grew apart.

I was heart-broken. I knew where she lived, and in my rage and heart-ache I made a ridiculous move. I went to her house until I found her husband there, and I told him everything. He listened patiently and even gave me a couple of beers. When I finished, I was happy. I would have my revenge. Then he explained that he didn't have anything against it. They had an open relationship.

Years later she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar and lost her job. She moved off, but not before rumors spread that her husband was actually a gay man and that they'd gotten married so he could keep his residency in the country.

That's not even the confession. I've been married for ten years and have three kids with my wonderful wife, but I can't stop stalking my ex-professor's face book and dreaming about a life with her. It's pathetic.