So I just got an email from an ex-lover. The last time we spoke was heated and emotional and honestly ended like a scene from a movie. Also, it was in May of 2012.

I spent the two years before law school teaching in Spain. At the beginning of the second year (at a new school in a different part of the country) I met Jorge (name changed, although none of the parties involved in this sordid saga speak english, so it doesn't really matter). We hit it off right away. I sat in the same place in the teacher's lounge everyday, and everyday during breaks or off periods he would sit with me and we would talk. We laughed, we flirted, it was great. I was studying for the LSAT at the time, so most of the times he would call and ask me to do something in the evenings I couldn't. Finally one night he told me that he really wanted to take me to his friends bar, and that it was partially New Orleans themed, and that it actually had bourbon. We had to go that night because his friend was about to sell it, etc. So we went. We got there and the bar was closed, so it was just the two of us and his friend/bartender. Lots of bourbon was imbibed. At some point in the night his friend "flea" (it was emphasized to me many times that this is his name because he is a little person—yet another of those many "I'm not blind/deaf/dumb, just foreign and slightly shocked by your ways" moments). We all started playing strip poker. Flea and Jorge are both somewhat professional poker players. I lost. Jorge and I danced in the bar. We went back to the car. We started kissing. Things started progressing. I started seeing stars and had to get out of the car, and got sick. We started hooking up again (EW). I told him I didn't want to have sex in the back of his car, if this was going to be a thing I wanted him to woo me (it was the beginning of my jury to improving my self esteem). But, I said we could go back to his house and pass out together if he wanted. He laughed and said his wife wouldn't be too cool with that.


I'm SORRY WHAT?! YOUR WIFE?!!? I got pissed, we talked in the car for hours, I told him how fucked up this was, what would he think when he went home to see his wife etc, etc. He said he had never done this before (yeah, ok.) but I was so special and we had this connection and this was our moment because I would only be there for a year and then we would never see each other again. How he wished we had met years before but that's not the way life worked out and he didn't want to lose the opportunity to be with me. Ugh.


So, the one thing I regret most in my life, is that although I didn't believe what he said, I let the relationship continue for one more weekend. I let him take me away. It was one of the most romantic weekends of my life. We went on a road trip and he took me to places he said he thought I would have no other opportunity to visit. We also statyed in a legit castle that had been converted into a 5 start hotel. We ate, we danced, we had sex, it was great.

But then, we went back to school, back to real life. All the teachers had a dinner together, and since it's Spain, hit the clubs after. He led the charge to one club. His wife was there. I had to meet her. I have never felt so despicable IN MY LIFE. I told him that nothing could ever happen between us again, and that I needed space in order to ensure that happened. I went home for Christmas, and when I came back I was polite but with a very clear air that we weren't going to communicate more than strictly necessary. It was hard because we had become so close, and there were very few young teachers at the school, but I knew it had to be done. I was still too attracted to him. Whether I was one of many or actually the only one, he was right about one thing, the chemistry between us was powerful and undeniable.


I had the opportunity to chaperone a ski trip with the students to Andorra. It was me, him, and two other (male) physical education teachers. We had a blast, and him and I hung out the entire time. He was kind of a baby and I got annoyed with him plenty. Nothing happened, but it felt very coupley the whole time. It was confusing. I started seeing a guy (another american) who lived in a town about 4 hours from mine, and we started traveling together every weekend. It helped draw a clearer line between me and Jorge.

Fast forward to the end of the year, my last night in the city. Some teachers decide they want to take me out for drinks, he is among them. We go out, we have fun, one by one others go home and it's just us. We keep drinking. We get in a cab, it goes to my place first to drop me off. He gets out. He tells me how happy he is to see me doing so much better than I was at the beginning of the year, how he thinks I finally see my self the way others see me, that I have blossomed, etc. It means so much to me because it had been a year of recovery for me, a year of hard work and it felt so good to have someone recognize it. He kisses me. My body melts. The chemistry is just so strong. But then I remember how fucked up this is, and I push him away. I yell at him. I tell him what a terrible person he is. How I know that I can't have been the only one. I ask him what will it feel like when your wife gives birth to your first child and you have to look her in the eye and know you cheated on her? That I am disgusted by both of us and I can't ever make up for what we've done except by making sure it never happens again. I walk into my building. He calls my name. I turn, he's crying, I turn back and walk away.


That was the last time I saw or heard from him. Until today. Until I got a 2 page email from him. Saying how much I hurt him that night, how he had fallen in love with me, how he wishes we could have spent those months together etc. And how I always was and always will be the only one.


What is he thinking? I haven't thought about this guy in months. It's been almost two years since the last time we slept together. When I do think about him, it's either with feelings of shame or anger.


And then, in the last sentence, he tells me he is now a father. OMG DUDE. GO BE GOOD TO YOUR FAMILY. STOP THINKING ABOUT THE AMERICAN GIRL THAT TAUGHT WITH YOU TWO YEARS AGO. I don't know how to respond. I don't know what to think. I am so confused, and angry. Angry at him, angry at myself, and if I'm honest, deep down I am angry that we couldn't have been together during that year. And shame. So. Much. Shame.