I've Served My Ten Years In The Trenches It's Time For A Promotion

I am called a gold digger. Mostly by his wife. In my defense I didn't start it, he did. But once he started it, I could not stop it. Maybe I should have, but maybe didn't cut it. When he called, I was there for him.

Affairs don't celebrate anniversaries, but since I know exactly the day it started, I will celebrate it by cooking him dinner. If his wife complains to him, he can bring her with him. Too late now to pretend about it, she knows, I know she knows and he doesn't care if we know. He talks about her to me, and talks about me to her. And after ten years we send each other birthday wishes.

The gold digger part started when he first bought me a car. Mine, was old and rattled, and he got tired of seeing me in it. Don't think he went out and bought me a Range Rover, he bought me a Civic. He got tired of the place I was living in, which was the same apartment I lived in when I was in college. He moved me and made up the extra rent by giving the money to me. A live in roommate isn't practical, because I've heard several girls in my situation complain that the man gets fresh with them too.

I got fitted with an IUD and I still have one. I'm tired of it, it is so false, such a fake message. I want to be free of it and let nature take its course with me. I don't want him to come to his senses when I'm in my late thirties and complain that I didn't make myself available to him. I will miss having 'them' in my twenties, but I will not miss having them in my early thirties. "Them" is a couple of babies.

It's time to transition, from being the cute girlfriend to being the 'other woman', kids and all. And that's not gold digging, that is preparing my bed to sleep in.