“The Pilot”

Fourteen years ago I began my journey into the land of on-line dating. Previous to then, I had only ever had three men approach me in my life, my ex-husband, his friend and then many years later, a customer at the store I worked at. I never dated in high school, never went to any dances. I asked three different boys to go to senior prom with me, offered to pay, no takers. It wasn’t until just before my twentieth birthday did any man pay attention to me. This man would eventually become my husband, but not before he had to divorce his second wife and I had a little fling with his friend.

Nine years passed after my ex-husband left the boys and I for the woman who would eventually become wife number 4. In that time, I didn’t even have a kiss, not for my lack of trying, but I had no takers. Just before my 40th birthday, a customer approached me. I was not used to such attention and quite honestly, he was freaking me out and I told him just that, when he asked me for my phone number. I told him how men do not approach me. He asked me why that was, but I didn’t have an answer for him. I finally broke down and gave him my number. He soon became “the transitional guy”. We dated a few months and then, another nine months of nothing.

By then, I was very frustrated and heard about this on-line dating stuff, so I signed up for a couple of the popular ones at the time. I don’t mind telling you how degrading the experience was. At first, I didn’t post an image. I would offer it after writing to them for a bit. As soon as they saw my photo, I never heard from them again. I suppose I’m some hideous beast because I do not resemble the cookie cutter image society dictates that a woman should resemble. Their loss, but very disheartening for me.

While discussing the situation with a co-worker, she suggested that I Google “Chubby Chasers”. At first, I was insulted, but then I decided to give it a try. I found a site that was geared towards dating overweight individuals. I filled out my profile, uploaded an image and in what felt like a heartbeat, I became a goddess. I was now described as a BBW, a Big Beautiful Woman and that was exactly how I felt. I had finally found men that preferred my body type and was receiving more attention than I could deal with from all parts of the world, but I was loving it. I discovered things about myself that I never knew existed and I became quite the erotica author. It was exciting to know that my mere words were pleasing a man and I became a bit addicted to the attention. I went on many adventures while honing my writing skills, sowing my wild oats if you will, but I hadn’t reached my pinnacle yet.

A friend of mine knew of my writing skills and asked me to do some detective work on her husband’s internet “explorations”. She asked me to go onto a very particular website that he frequented and to do some intel for her. I created a fake profile, no image and contacted her husband. While writing to him, it was as if I myself disappeared and another part of me took over. I wrote about very particular things and was able to retrieve the information she was looking for. However, while on this site, I received messages from other men that intrigued me, so much so that I discovered a whole new world of sexuality that I very much wanted to explore.

When I was done with my detective work, I decided to stay on the site as myself. Once again, I went on many new adventures, one of them leading me to meet “The Pilot”. We communicated through an instant messenger service for a time and then we physically met once. It was fun, but not exciting and I didn’t hear from him again for eighteen months. When I did, he explained that he was on workman’s comp, saw my light on and decided to chat with me. The chatting continued for several months while he was healing for a supposed work related injury, but when he was well enough, we had a meeting. This time, it was completely different, the chemistry had changed and he asked to see me again right away.

We began to meet about every other week, then weekly, but always at a hotel. I was never invited to his home. I didn’t mind really, the hotels were a nice little vacation from my everyday life of being a single mother who lived with her father. He would take me out to nice restaurants and we had so much fun. I felt free to explore and act out so many fantasies, never feeling scared or embarrassed. Basically, I was in charge and we did whatever I wanted us to do, I liked that.

He had a way of making me feel like I was the only girl in the world and from how he described his schedule, I honestly thought I was the only one he was seeing. Not that he ever said that I was, but I felt that way. I decided to ask him if we could start seeing each other outside of a hotel situation and he agreed to my proposal. We even eventually traveled together. Once again, we had so much fun, we got along so well and he never, ever said anything derogatory to me. In fact, he was incredibly supportive of all my woes and tales of work and family issues. He was my number one cheerleader. The only issue was that I was never invited to his home and I never met anyone in his life. Yes, I thought this was odd, but he assured me that he was not married and at the end of the day, it was not a deal breaker.

As the years rolled on, I introduced him to my friends and my family. My father adored him, everyone liked “The Pilot” except for the fact that he didn’t invite me to his home or introduce me to anyone in his life. When my father began to decline, we no longer met at hotels. Instead, he stayed at our home. He became a part of our family and stayed overnight weekly. Saturday nights were our time that I looked forward to, even if all we did was watch some TV, just as long as we were together. He made me feel loved, he made me feel beautiful, intelligent and desired.

Five years into the relationship, I had a serious health issue. He stayed with me and my family every night for the 2 months of recovery because I asked him to. I was afraid of what might happen and he didn’t want me to have anything to worry about. It was at this time that my dear friend who always worried about me not seeing where he lived, stopped worrying. She was satisfied because he was at my side when I needed him and decided that I would see where he lived when he moved in with me.

Over the next few years, my father’s health declined and he could not be left alone. “The Pilot” helped with sitting with my father on Saturdays when both I and my son had to be at work and we didn’t have anyone else to help. He wasn’t available on Fridays because he had to visit with his nephew. The boy’s father had passed away a number of years earlier and “The Pilot” stepped up to take him to scout meetings on Fridays. There were times that I was jealous, but I didn’t begrudge him the time with the boy. I wish I had had someone for my kids like that.

My father became stricken with dementia and I had to put him into a nursing home. This was a horrible time in my life, dealing with the stress of the situation I became depressed, but “The Pilot” did not leave me. My father’s health declined rapidly and within a few months, I brought him home under hospice. I continued to work full time and take care of dad when I got home so my son who stayed with him all day could get some sleep. It was only a matter of a few weeks, but “The Pilot” would help, even with changing my dad.

We didn’t know how long my father had to live and “The Pilot” was beckoned to take care of his nephew for 2 weeks while his mother recovered from back surgery. I didn’t understand why no one else could help, nor why he couldn’t come to visit me at all during this time. During that time, my father passed away. “The Pilot” did not come to my side. I told myself that there was some logical reason, maybe he was broken in some way and couldn’t deal with the situation, but he did not come to my side in my time of need.

I should have left him then, for that reason alone, but I didn’t. I couldn’t fathom losing my father and the man I loved so desperately at the same time. I couldn’t do that for the second time in my life. I knew I should not have married who I did, but relationship ending things happened at the same time of my mother’s death and I couldn’t bear to lose both, so I stayed with a man I should not have. Twice in my life, I have made a horrible decision during a time of grief out of fear of being alone and twice in my life, I have paid for that error.

To be continued….

#thelieswechoosetolivewith