Now that you know a little about how my affair came to pass, I will tell you some tips. Lets start with Jealousy. That big green guy. Some people feel it more so than others. I didn’t for a very long time. Not in love, at least. Sure, I have been jealous over cool shoes, or amazing sex stories. But the type of Jealousy I am talking about is for the cheater's significant other

If you are cheating, there have to be spouses, girl/boyfriends, just plain old friend friends involved also. If you are super lucky there are children or pets involved. Cheating is complicated. And sometimes, your lover may have other priorities. Priorities that you cannot and should not deny.

Repeat after me: It is okay and normal to not be the top priority in the relationship. Say it over and over again. Until your mind maybe starts to believe it. Your heart never will. But maybe, if you can keep the right mindset, your heart won’t break into a zillion pieces every time plans get cancelled or you hear someone talk about their attached.

Sometimes the jealousy increases excitement. Seeing or thinking of your lover with someone else may at first cause great anger that you can turn into a huge steamy bowl of jealous rage, which, hopefully can turn into jealous sex.

When I first started my affair, I wasn’t concerned so much with jealousy for people involved. People I can easily block from my mind and discard like used condoms. I would get jealous of watching your long fingers move lightly over your desk when they should be moving along my spine. Jealous of the fabric of your pants causing friction when it should be my hands. Jealous you can chew and lick your lips openly while I just have to imagine the tastes left there. Jealous that even though we always seem to take showers at the same time, it was far apart, never together. Never me washing your hair. Jealous of the very bubbles running down your hairy thick chest.

I started to want to create that same mind-blowing frenzy in you. So when I leave work and that one boy, who is desperately in love with me and follows me like a puppy, follows me to my car, I linger. I chat with him. Never going into deep conversations like the ones we have, but also not telling him to stop completely. He can pause there and chat with me as you walk out the door and spy on us. Shooting him evil glances, wishing it was you who could openly talk to me next to my car.

Jealousy can be seen every time I see some cute little couple walking hand in hand through a parking lot, their fingers laced together before all of humanity, not a thought of who will see them or what other people think. That’s where my true jealousy lies.

I began to get jealous of all the times you didn’t text. All the words you couldn’t say because other people may hear. All the times you couldn’t get free to see me, leaving me awkward and alone. Jealous when I ask about your day or night, and she is mentioned. The worst type of jealousy is when you are just happy. You have no reason to be happy, and I am jealous because how on earth could you be happy without me? Jealousy that leads to anger and then eventually apathy.

A little jealousy goes a very long way. Just enough to make you hard, ready and eager to replace whatever thoughts I’m having with thoughts of you. Not enough to force me to fuck a stranger in a public restroom just because you couldn’t be there with me.

As a self-proclaimed mistress, I forced myself to deal with this feeling. At first, I decided to be open with you and fully admit when you made me jealous. I remember the soul-crushing night that you deadass stopped talking to me, mid-conversation, because she was outside your door. That night will torment me forever. All the possibilities of what could have happened. Never was my jealousy more than that moment, or any moment I remember it still. It was a pain that left a tiny scar that I could have avoided. However, that night also forced me to address my own jealous feelings and find a way to cope.

My current coping mechanism is to embrace it fully. Yes, I get jealous. No that feeling won’t go away. But I will use it to my own choosing, hopefully creating some provocative writing from it instead of letting it consume me whole. I have imagined our trio in every possible way, you and her while I am left out, me fucking someone while she denies you again, me and my ex as you tear yourself down in your own lonely room. Admit the feelings and own them. Be the boss of them and never let them leave another scar.

I will always tell you when I get hit on. Sometimes just out of my habit for honesty. Other times specifically to stir that green boiling pool in your mind. I mention dating, finding a boyfriend that I can be free and open to go and do things with in the daylight instead of our midnight, unseen passions. I don’t tell you these things to anger you or make you feel bad. I tell you because I want you to know what I crave. And when I do date, and things lead to other dirtier things, I want you to be prepared.

There are times when I want nothing more than to make you jealous and angry. So angry you break all of the rules and come to me, wherever I am, whatever time it may be. Enter me forcefully, hoping to reclaim what you imagine has been taken from you. Letting all of your emotions pour into me. Competing with my imaginary other companions for top position.

I want you to feel my insides and question who else has been there. Doubt yourself and think about how you compare to my others. I want you to taste me and relish it because you don’t know who else has tasted my sweet nectar of life.

But then there are times when I just want comfort. Slow, steamy, romantic sex that makes you feel like you never need doubt me. Banish all thoughts of other lovers with my smoothing hands. Kiss away feelings of inadequacy. Fuck you into security. Scream your name over and over like it’s the first and last name I will ever say.

Yes, jealousy can lead to awful endings. Bitter arguments. Harsher unforgivable words. Crocodile tears. A never-ending love lost. But it can also be used in all of the best possible ways. To increase friction. Sexual frustrations. A cure to ending silly school girl emotions.