When You’re The “Other Woman”


Why me? What made me so special that night? It had to have been my innocence; I was a conquest. I was attractive enough for you to cheat on her. You saw me and had to have me.


But maybe it had nothing to do with me. Maybe I’m putting myself in the equation too much. I was just there. You could have used anyone. Some other girl who didn’t mind exchanging side-glances and joking with you at the bar. Some other girl you found at the right moment.

When you look at it that way, everything seems so much worse. I was used. You knew all along that you would have me. You were older. I put my trust in someone I did not know. I should have known when you grabbed my thigh. I should have known when I could constantly feel your eyes on me. I should have known when you bought me that drink.

I am nothing to you. I never was. You probably don’t even know my name.

It was your fault. But it was mine too. I pretended like I didn’t know you were with someone. But I knew; I always knew. I thought I was proving something. To myself. To others. I could do it. You would risk your three-year relationship for one night with me. You would choose to be with me that night.

Your girlfriend. Your roommate. Now, your fiancé. Does she know? Does she know it was me? There had to have been others. I could not have been the only one. Does she know about them too? How many people live that way? Thinking they are in a loving, faithful partnership, when in reality, it is all a lie.

You live 2,000 miles from me. I can never apologize to her. Yes, I know her name. I’ve seen her Facebook. Your Facebook. Your pictures together. I could never just drop her a message saying, “You don’t know me, but one night this summer, your boyfriend took me home.” She wouldn’t believe me. Why would she? I’m a random girl who means nothing to her.

This is my apology to you, his girlfriend. You deserve better. I deserve better.