An Officer But Not a Gentleman

Why married men are still my only taboo.

It was on one of my forays on dating websites, during a lull in my tumultuous love life that I came across a dashing young man who would challenge my principles to the nth degree.

I never thought I was someone who admired a man in uniform, but he looked so smart and handsome, I could suddenly understand the appeal.

And besides looks, his intellect was sharp and his chat witty, pithy and wise.

We met up for coffee and instantly hit it off.

The catch? He was married, he told me, bold as brass. He had entered the world of online dating to find one thing and one thing only. Sex.

This was a no go area for me. I don’t do married men.

His wife was not interested in him sexually any more, he said, and had never been, really.

My interest however, was piqued. Sitting across from him, I realised the power of my position and the desperation of his. I could empathise with his situation and rather than judging him and telling him to take a hike, we chatted openly and enjoyed each other’s company and the freedom of all cards being on the table. Neither of us was guarded or reserved, it seemed as if we could talk about anything.

His libido was clearly an issue for him in a sexless marriage, and he mostly wanted to express his frustration. I had perhaps more of a wealth of experience of life, being a little older and having been around the block a few more times than he had. We could share different perspectives from our own gendered viewpoint.

My story of embittered divorce proceedings gave him food for thought.

We gradually became friends and have maintained contact over several years, and a number of my failed relationships. He has comforted me, usually over the phone or internet rather than a coffee.

He really does seem to have a girl in every port, the classic cliche. He likes to tell me all about them because, who else is he going to tell?

On occasion, I have blocked him on all socials because I’ve been in a relationship and it didn’t sit well with me to keep in touch, but I inevitably end up unblocking him when I am single again.

He always knows when I get in contact after a break-up, it’s because I need a friend who understands the occasional misery of human existence and the simple need for comfort.

I’ve lent him an ear and had to listen to some salacious tales of his torrid affairs with women he has hooked up with. There but for the grace of moral fibre go I.

It’s been entertaining and at times a little sad. There was the story about the cheerleader who had professed her love for him and been devastated when he broke it off as he was only interested in a casual fling. He felt guilty as he’s not a heartless bastard but he had been upfront about his position at the outset.

Some women think they’ll make a man fall in love with them, no matter what.

No woman over the age of 30 believes that any more.

He told me one woman had invited him to her apartment and opened the door wearing nothing but a blindfold. She had told him to do things to her and he had obeyed. He confessed later that he had felt sickened by his own compliance and cheapened by the whole experience.

I adopted the role of therapist. I was unable to offer him much consolation but just allowing him to vent his feelings seemed to help.

He still wants me. That, of course, is very alluring.

I don’t believe he will ever have me. He would never leave his wife, I admire him for his loyalty on that score, as much as I disapprove of his behaviour.

But I could never cause potential relationship damage on that scale.

My own marriage ended after a very long time of trying to make it work, and an inordinate amount of soul-searching. I’m not about to risk destroying someone else’s for some extra-marital dalliance.

I can’t support his actions but I can still be his friend.

And while he’s never going to turn up at my workplace and scoop me up in his arms to carry me off for a future of eternal bliss, the fantasy is rather nice and my imagination can fill in the gaps between that and the reality of my serial single-dom.

But I’m still keeping him firmly in the friend zone.

In the meantime maybe my dating profile should read ‘married men need not apply’.

Married men are my last and only taboo because it’s just wrong.

It’s too complicated.

And sometimes they’re just too damn tempting.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, try here for more of my dating disasters.