I don’t know how to end this

“I don’t want to be the other woman, but I don’t know how to end this.”

I had finally said the words.
And shit suddenly got very real for me.

I had been holding onto my secret for waaay to long.
My stress levels were high.
My self-esteem was low.

I hated myself for allowing myself to be in a relationship with a married man.

I was alone in my self-imposed prison, and I had no one to talk to.

There was nobody I trusted enough to talk to.

And a therapist was not an option, because dad had always told us a therapist is only for crazy people.

I wasn’t crazy.
Stupid maybe, but not crazy like the kind who had to see a therapist.

I wished with all my heart I could find someone to speak to.
Someone who would understand. Someone who would not shun me, or judge me.

I so wished there were more people on this earth like my mother.
She is one of the most non-judgemental people I have ever known.

But I could never talk to her.
She would never forgive me as her daughter.

She had been through so much heartache over the years, with my dad having numerous affairs with other women.

And now her daughter had become THE OTHER WOMAN!

I felt so lost and alone.

And suddenly out of the blue, my Mama arrived on my doorstep, held me in her arms and gently said:

“I am here now. I know you need to talk. I know the signs. And I probably already know what you are about to tell me.”

My angel had arrived and I was about to cry the saddest tears I had ever cried…