A bit of confession time here. Many years ago between my two marriages I had a rather torrid affair with a lovely woman who remains to this day a good friend. It's one of those two ships passing in the night stories, that I now feel compelled to tell a version of. Maybe it's only a novelette, but it feels much bigger than that.
Here are the big story arcs. I entered that relationship uncertain that I could ever feel love again. She resurrected me, I fell for her hard and thought seriously of marrying her.
But she also had to consider that she had three children and at that point in time I would hardly have been a fit father, I wasn't quite 50. I had no experience of children - none of my own. Unknown to me at the time, my energy was being sapped by illness, and my future prospects would have seemed to look pretty dim. It looked as if I had reached a ceiling in my career and would not likely have been able to provide for her children as she would wish. At that point in time she had no reason to believe she could count on the birth father for help.
She was struggling, I think, to reconnect sexuality to love, and I think I helped her do that before she concluded I could not be the father she needed. Yes. That means what I said. I think she loved me. I know I loved her. But her children had to be her first priority. She was now a mother and that was a greater responsibility. I put her in the position of a conflict between tending only herself, or tending herself and her kids. I could not be the resolution of that.
Shortly after she cooled me off, she married a man who has been a wonderful husband and father to the three children that were fathered by another man. They clearly have loved one another, and he has provided resources to their children that they would not otherwise have had.
Only a few years later I met my current wife and that marriage was probably only possible because of the earlier affair. I won't say it was the only "cure" available to me, but it was mine. I knew what love was again; I could love her with a confidence I did not have before, and we have been very happy.
The problem that my former lover had was that even after fathering three kids her husband had to confess that was irresistibly attracted to other men. I was one of several men she engaged to try to find love again.
The literature of gay men who were formerly married to straight women is pretty extensive because it represents gay men coming out of the closet.
The same cannot be said of literature about women who have loved gay men and tried to adapt to that, (The Master Butcher Singing Club always excepted.)
If anyone knows of a psychological study, a memoir, or anything of the sort that might help me better understand, I would appreciate it.
I want to do that terribly daring thing of being a man who chooses to write a terribly intimate, even erotic, chapter from the point of view of a woman in this circumstance.
Yes I could ask my friend to be much more explicit with me about the circumstances, but I would prefer not to do that. It's quite clear she has done her best to close the door on that part of her past and I would be doing her no favors whatever to rake it up.
I know there may be women in this forum who have experienced this, and might have much to say. I would not want to publicly embarrass you by asking that you bare personal accounts, but if you would message me privately, we could exchange contact information and talk more privately
I have written a Chapter of this work and it looks to me that it will come in pretty short, About 30,000 words. Probably not suitable for traditional publishing, but I'm sure Create Space and KDP would eat it up. I'm 70 years old now and writing only Chapter 1 worked me up quite a bit. The memories are still pretty torrid.
I think this is an erotic novel, but a real one. It would exceed novel length and perhaps be a great work if I could include the point of view of her first and second husbands.