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king about taking a break. Or to put it more accurately, I had been talking about it and she had been listening reluctantly. I knew where my heart was — I wanted to end it. I knew the “break” would just be a soft landing into being single again and it was killing me to feel like I was deceiving everyone else around us by pretending things were good between my ex-wife and I. I was in entering relationship purgatory. I wasn’t able to peruse the relationship I wanted because I was too scared to end the relationship I wasn’t supposed to be in.Entering the “break” was hard because we had actually been talking more and getting along. Maybe that was really just because I was ignoring the hurt and questions I wanted to talk about that she hated discussing (e.g., the affair, why she chose to be with me). Plus, after she got cold on me emotionally, verbally, and physically the week before — when I brought up the idea of a break — she warmed up (probably to make one last attempt to save the relationship) and we had some of the best sex we’d ever had.That’s hard to let go of!<h2 id="ad86">The Last Time We Had Sex?</h2>Just a heads up that this section is more graphic than I normally write. I opted to keep it to paint the picture of how difficult and bittersweet this time was, but if you want to skip it just scroll to the next heading.Two nights before we went on a break, she came downstairs after putting the kids to bed and somehow we started making out. The night before that, she had back pain and I gave her a full body massage, which ended with my hand caressing her thigh, then finding its way inward. She let out a sigh and moan that told me to keep going. So I did exactly that while she lay on her stomach with her face pressed into the bed. I kept teasing and eventually eased my fingers inside of her and it didn’t take more than a few seconds before she started moaning, moving and throbbing on those fingers. I remember the details (most of which I’ve left out here) because I wrote about it in my journal knowing it would be a bittersweet memory I may want to remember.Anyway, back to the second-to-last night before the break, when she came downstairs. She was laying down opposite of me on the couch and my fingers found their way to the same familiar pattern again. After hearing her same reaction and watching her move in a way that told me to keep going, I slid off her shorts and stood up on the side of the couch beside her head. She motioned to slide down my pants and she wrapped her mouth around me immediately.The next however-long-it-was-as-time-flew-by quickly escalated into passion that came to a boil as if twelve years of love all concentrated itself into fuel that lit a fire that burned one last time that night. She came and I felt her wetness on my fingers. I knew we were both ready and I got on the couch and teased her for a bit before gently sliding in and slowly feeling her stretch around me as I went in inch-by-inch. She told me how full she felt and and I felt her move faster. I sped up to match her as she came again quickly. We were making out the entire time, which is not something she normally enjoyed. Then again, bittersweet emotions were running high that night as we both knew this could be our last time.We kept going for however long it was until she had another orgasm and I knew I couldn’t last any longer and wanted to finish with her. We both lost it together as I collapsed on her, letting out a growl I hoped didn’t wake the kids. I stayed inside while we kissed for a while but I was still hard. She never went for two rounds, but this time she got up and bent over on the couch and we kept going,

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creating a wet mess on the cushions. I wasn’t prepared for the mess, but wasn’t going to stop in the middle here either. We switched positions one more time and I watched her bounce on top of me, like she’d never done before. It felt great physically, but I savored the last moments of watching her enjoy herself knowing it would probably be the last time we’d experience this together.It was one of the most bittersweet moments I’ve had in my life.<h1 id="8a48">Hot and Cold</h1>On the day I took “the hop” and decided we needed to take a break, my ex-wife said she didn’t understand why I get hot and cold. It was because things do heat up, like it did on the couch a couple nights before. I know how I should feel and see how she does feel. But the truth was, I felt like was just moving farther down the path to breaking her heart. The bitter was winning the battle versus the sweet.After we had sex on the couch two night prior, I collapsed on her warm, soft chest and kissed her while I stayed inside her. She held me tight and whispered “I don’t want this to end.”I replied “Me either.”What else do you say when you just had sex with somebody you do love (even I wasn’t in love)? A few months before, she hugged me and told me she loved me. I told her that I don’t know I can say the same thing. It broke her heart and she got upset. I didn’t know what else to say in that moment,. I guess the real feeling I had was that I didn’t want moment to have ended. But me wishing the situation and feelings I had weren’t that I was ready to exit and that actually being how I felt — those were two different truths.The reason I would get cold and withdrawn was because I could see what the end result was going to be and felt guilty for having warmed up with somebody I knew was going to be hurt with how the situation ended — because of my actions. It was similar with Teresa at the end. I withdrew when I felt something was still there with my ex-wife because I didn’t want to hurt Teresa.So there we were, on our break. The next step in this messy situation? Planning Christmas together in a few weeks.I wanted to post an update on Teresa because I know a lot of commenters have asked on previous stories. <a href="https://muchreassemblyrequired.medium.com/the-hardest-breakup-ive-been-through-since-my-divorce-saying-goodbye-to-teresa-a8b567834bbe">I wrote about how we did communicate again after</a>, she made it clear she had moved on, and we only had good things to say to each other. It was hard to hear, but I also moved on. Well, she did end up marrying the person she started dating right after we broke up. He sounds like a great guy from the stories she told me. Teresa and I are still friends on social media so I do get some peeks into her new life.Because we had such great communication in our relationship, great communication about why we broke up, closure with each other, and gratitude for the great things we gave to each other, she’s probably the only ex I can be friends with, see their new life with somebody, and be genuinely happy for them without regret or envy of how things turned out. She got her blended family she always wanted and nobody deserves the happiness they have more than she does.Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this story and want to read all my posts, consider, <a href="https://muchreassemblyrequired.medium.com/subscribe">subscribing</a>, <a href="https://muchreassemblyrequired.medium.com/membership">becoming a member</a>, or both. Support from writing helps me keep pushing out content and brings a smile to my face.</article></body>

From Hot, to Cold, to Steamy: The Nights Leading Up to Breaking Up with My Ex-wife for the Second-To-Last Time

It was early December 2020 and I’d just spent Thanksgiving with my “family” of four — my two kids and my ex-wife who I was trying to reconcile with for the second time. My son was exposed to COVID at a time when a tickle in your throat was reason to board up your doors. So instead of having our parents over, we spent the weekend together inside.

I love the holidays and love Thanksgiving. It was a nice weekend, but it cemented the realization that I didn’t want to be with my wife anymore and I missed Teresa. Teresa was the woman I met after my wife left me for Donald. I broke up with her so that I could attempt reconciliation. Twice. I’ve written about that in detail before, so won’t go into it here. But Teresa was with somebody else now. That didn’t stop me from thinking about her every day — and wondering if she thought about me.

What Was I Afraid Of?

One night I made a list of all the reasons why I was too scared to break up with my ex-wife again:

I’m too late for Teresa and she found somebody better for her. I’ll break up with my ex-wife, Teresa will have moved on, then my ex-wife will find somebody else fast, and I’ll be the one alone and feeling unloved.
Not being a part of my ex-wife’s life and not even being friends with the person I was convinced I would grow old with for so long. I’m scared to let those dreams go.
Not seeing my kids every day.
Being alone and dealing with the discomfort that brings. Especially around Christmas and Thanksgiving.
The kids feeling like they are different from the “normal” kids and missing out on the stability I had growing up with married parents. I don’t want them to feel like they came from a broken family.
My ex-wife will end up happier than me and that will hurt to see.
My ex-wife will find somebody better than me who gives her more than I could have and I’ll feel inadequate.

For all the reasons I was afraid of by breaking up with my ex-wife, there were things that I was afraid by staying with her. I’ve documented those in the other posts linked above, so I won’t rehash them here, but I felt conflicted.

The thing was, I wasn’t conflicted, I was scared. I knew what I really wanted, I was just afraid to take the leap.

The Leap

A few days into December, I did it again. I broke up with my ex-wife.

Sort of.

Okay, the Hop

We had been talking about taking a break. Or to put it more accurately, I had been talking about it and she had been listening reluctantly. I knew where my heart was — I wanted to end it. I knew the “break” would just be a soft landing into being single again and it was killing me to feel like I was deceiving everyone else around us by pretending things were good between my ex-wife and I. I was in entering relationship purgatory. I wasn’t able to peruse the relationship I wanted because I was too scared to end the relationship I wasn’t supposed to be in.

Entering the “break” was hard because we had actually been talking more and getting along. Maybe that was really just because I was ignoring the hurt and questions I wanted to talk about that she hated discussing (e.g., the affair, why she chose to be with me). Plus, after she got cold on me emotionally, verbally, and physically the week before — when I brought up the idea of a break — she warmed up (probably to make one last attempt to save the relationship) and we had some of the best sex we’d ever had.

That’s hard to let go of!

The Last Time We Had Sex?

Just a heads up that this section is more graphic than I normally write. I opted to keep it to paint the picture of how difficult and bittersweet this time was, but if you want to skip it just scroll to the next heading.

Two nights before we went on a break, she came downstairs after putting the kids to bed and somehow we started making out. The night before that, she had back pain and I gave her a full body massage, which ended with my hand caressing her thigh, then finding its way inward. She let out a sigh and moan that told me to keep going. So I did exactly that while she lay on her stomach with her face pressed into the bed. I kept teasing and eventually eased my fingers inside of her and it didn’t take more than a few seconds before she started moaning, moving and throbbing on those fingers. I remember the details (most of which I’ve left out here) because I wrote about it in my journal knowing it would be a bittersweet memory I may want to remember.

Anyway, back to the second-to-last night before the break, when she came downstairs. She was laying down opposite of me on the couch and my fingers found their way to the same familiar pattern again. After hearing her same reaction and watching her move in a way that told me to keep going, I slid off her shorts and stood up on the side of the couch beside her head. She motioned to slide down my pants and she wrapped her mouth around me immediately.

The next however-long-it-was-as-time-flew-by quickly escalated into passion that came to a boil as if twelve years of love all concentrated itself into fuel that lit a fire that burned one last time that night. She came and I felt her wetness on my fingers. I knew we were both ready and I got on the couch and teased her for a bit before gently sliding in and slowly feeling her stretch around me as I went in inch-by-inch. She told me how full she felt and and I felt her move faster. I sped up to match her as she came again quickly. We were making out the entire time, which is not something she normally enjoyed. Then again, bittersweet emotions were running high that night as we both knew this could be our last time.

We kept going for however long it was until she had another orgasm and I knew I couldn’t last any longer and wanted to finish with her. We both lost it together as I collapsed on her, letting out a growl I hoped didn’t wake the kids. I stayed inside while we kissed for a while but I was still hard. She never went for two rounds, but this time she got up and bent over on the couch and we kept going, creating a wet mess on the cushions. I wasn’t prepared for the mess, but wasn’t going to stop in the middle here either. We switched positions one more time and I watched her bounce on top of me, like she’d never done before. It felt great physically, but I savored the last moments of watching her enjoy herself knowing it would probably be the last time we’d experience this together.

It was one of the most bittersweet moments I’ve had in my life.

Hot and Cold

On the day I took “the hop” and decided we needed to take a break, my ex-wife said she didn’t understand why I get hot and cold. It was because things do heat up, like it did on the couch a couple nights before. I know how I should feel and see how she does feel. But the truth was, I felt like was just moving farther down the path to breaking her heart. The bitter was winning the battle versus the sweet.

After we had sex on the couch two night prior, I collapsed on her warm, soft chest and kissed her while I stayed inside her. She held me tight and whispered “I don’t want this to end.”

I replied “Me either.”

What else do you say when you just had sex with somebody you do love (even I wasn’t in love)? A few months before, she hugged me and told me she loved me. I told her that I don’t know I can say the same thing. It broke her heart and she got upset. I didn’t know what else to say in that moment,. I guess the real feeling I had was that I didn’t want moment to have ended. But me wishing the situation and feelings I had weren’t that I was ready to exit and that actually being how I felt — those were two different truths.

The reason I would get cold and withdrawn was because I could see what the end result was going to be and felt guilty for having warmed up with somebody I knew was going to be hurt with how the situation ended — because of my actions. It was similar with Teresa at the end. I withdrew when I felt something was still there with my ex-wife because I didn’t want to hurt Teresa.

So there we were, on our break. The next step in this messy situation? Planning Christmas together in a few weeks.

I wanted to post an update on Teresa because I know a lot of commenters have asked on previous stories. I wrote about how we did communicate again after, she made it clear she had moved on, and we only had good things to say to each other. It was hard to hear, but I also moved on. Well, she did end up marrying the person she started dating right after we broke up. He sounds like a great guy from the stories she told me. Teresa and I are still friends on social media so I do get some peeks into her new life.

Because we had such great communication in our relationship, great communication about why we broke up, closure with each other, and gratitude for the great things we gave to each other, she’s probably the only ex I can be friends with, see their new life with somebody, and be genuinely happy for them without regret or envy of how things turned out. She got her blended family she always wanted and nobody deserves the happiness they have more than she does.

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this story and want to read all my posts, consider, subscribing, becoming a member, or both. Support from writing helps me keep pushing out content and brings a smile to my face.