What makes women go for years in mistresses and endure the situation Bashny.Net

Marriage is the union of two people who love each other. But no one in this life is immune from deception and intrigue. What qualities of a lover or a lover make spouses cheat on each other? Appearance, intimacy, inner peace or charisma?



In fact, there is no specifics on this issue. All people are different and their secret dreams also vary from person to person. But do not think that the favorite of someone’s second half can be, for example, only an unscrupulous and depraved girl. Perhaps she is the hostage of this relationship.

It is so stupid to realize that 10 years of your life have been wasted. And it's not childhood or later years, where, in general, it doesn't matter how or what you do. These are the 10 most productive years when you build a career, a family, have children and fall in love once and for all.

In my case, it was 10 years of lying, waiting and self-deception.



My name is Oksana, I am 34 years old and I have not been able to part with my love for more than 10 years. Inside myself, I understand that this is not normal and stupid, and has no prospects. No matter how sad it is, I can’t do anything about it.

I lived with my parents until I was 24. My childhood was the most ordinary, which is called “like everyone else”: kindergarten, school, institute. Probably, except for one detail, namely, that our family was dominated by my mother. Dad, in fact, was not a rag, rather a phlegmatic with a lot of apathy. He knew the weather was a little abnormal, but he didn’t care.



What to say, if in the kindergarten on the mornings, I was always a snowflake, in the whitest dress. My happy parents always smiled and rejoiced, and when I got home, I always got nuts for every tiny spot or thread that came out. The mother carried out the examinations each time, the father smoked on the street or did something outside the house.

School. You know how hard it is to find a girlfriend when your nervous system is already in fifth grade, like an experienced sapper? Torn because of one crossed out word notebooks, traces of the belt in soft places and tantrums from my mother, who tried to “put” me calligraphic handwriting.

Then it was even worse, because by the ninth grade I was, as they say, blossomed. I got a lot of calls from boys who didn't know how to get my phone number. I didn’t have a cell phone and all calls to my old home phone were completely controlled. The doors to “my” room were never closed, but only slightly covered so that everything could be seen or heard from the hallway.



To learn how to dress and dress, I could not to this day. Once I passed this skill, probably, when it was handed out, I was preparing for an independent behind an unlocked door.

I graduated with honors, although it did not impress anyone. I even had a brief romantic relationship that never ended. Oh, as I remember, so a tear of nostalgia and sneaks: how we hid in the park, walked until 6 p.m. on the outskirts of the city, so that no one saw us ... But it soon got bored. And I mean, not even him, but me. After all, hiding in your twenties is exhausting.



And then I met him. Michael was (and still is) 9 years older than me. An adult man, well-read and with a huge, immense sense of justice. After a couple of months of secret meetings and childishly naive "secret" dates, he took me to a rented apartment. His conversation with my parents was exactly what I had imagined: Without reproach and resentment, the noble knight takes the princess from the castle..

That's only in every girl's fairy tale necessarily had to appear evil witch. And she was in mine, too. Zinaida, Misha's wife. His age, a little younger, imperious, ugly woman, somewhat resembling my mother. I knew about her, but she didn't know about me.



It's been 8 long years. We met “at my place”, we even traveled abroad during his fictional business trips. We did sports together, went to the cinema, theaters and museums of the city. As they say, life in a golden cage. But don’t think about it, I have friends and friends. It wasn't just the husband.

At some point I noticed that I was getting better. Pusico began to grow, although my diet remained the same. I went to the doctor and the diagnosis was predictable: the second month of pregnancy. After the real shock, I called my lover right in the middle of the day, for the first time in my life. He had lunch alone, so he immediately arrived, all wet and with a wild look.

You have to get rid of him.

Then went the monologue that he does not want children, that is his principle and so on and so forth. It is true that he did not have any children of his own. That day was very hard and I couldn’t even sleep. I wanted to get drunk, but you know, the situation is wrong.

After 2 days, Misha told me that his wife was sick and he should be near her. Our communication subsided and over the next month we did not see each other, but only spoke on the phone several times. The clouds thickened and I was scared. After thinking about it, I decided for myself that I did not love this man. He's been using me for a long time. There's something to decide.



I got rid of the baby like he wanted. My old relationship was back in my life, but I didn’t want anything. It was bitter and disgusting. The wife suddenly recovered and everything went according to the old pattern. My thoughts, emotions, and confidence disappeared, and instead of having a baby, Misha brought me a puppy. I hate dogs.

That's it, my dears. That's how I still live. I can't help myself. You think it's love? I disagree. It's some kind of punishment, no other way. No one's holding me, I'm sure if I asked him to leave and the money, he'd say yes. No blackmail or scandal. But I don't want to. Thank you to everyone who read and have a good day.



© piabay We empathize with our reader and we sincerely wish her to understand herself, her feelings and emotions. Perhaps soon she will realize everything for herself and finally make the right choice. In the meantime, you can comment on your thoughts on this.