Some of you might have read my post from last week (see link).  Here's a short summary, plus a few details left out of the original post:

Years ago, I met a brothel girl in a foreign town.  Something clicked between us.  Had affair.  Real.  Off-the-clock.  Sweet.  I knew better, and so did she, but...  I would have moved halfway round the world to continue it, could easily have imagined myself marrying this girl.  But what she didn't know, because I lied about it, was that I had a wife and child 10,000 miles away back home.

So I pretended to be just a guy who couldn't make a commitment, and we had fun, and when it came time for me to go we assumed we'd never see one another again.  I never thought I'd see her again.  We didn't exchange contact information.

So anyway, I happen to now be back in the town where I met this girl, who hasn't worked in a while, and I run into the brothel owner downtown.  Nice lady.  I know her and her family.  She remembers me well and fondly.  We chat briefly.  She tells me I should stop by again some time.  Yea, ha ha.  Nice try.  I'm not a John anymore.  Or a panderer or pimp or anything else.

But fuck.  A few days later I figure what the hell.  I go there.  You know when you're in an old hometown and you can't help driving past your old house just to see what it looks like now?  It was like that.  And...  it was a nice visit.  I end up sitting on the porch in the sunshine with the girls who are working there (a couple know me, some are new and don't) and chatting with them and the owner.  It was nice to catch up.  I don't visit the rooms, I don't touch any of them.  I have no urge to.  A lot of you guys without much exposure to the work would probably find it surreal to be sitting there with a bunch of really hot girls in sexy underwear or topless just hanging out between rings of the doorbell, and then resuming conversations when they come back with their asses and tits still red from the session.  You can see from their faces and how hard they smoke whether the guy was nice or not.  Nothing needs to be said.  I felt disgusted by it.  I know it's just work.  Just business.  But they seem so young.  I am glad I'm done with the hobby.

Anyway, back to the point:  So then late last week I happen to look at the brothel website, partly on a whim, partly because I always find it interesting how certain girls come out when professionally photographed (and -shopped).  And there is a picture of The Girl.  The one I fell in love with, with a note that she will be there this week.  But she hasn't worked in a long time, and normally the brothel doesn't list people before they are actually there.

So I wondered.  Was she contacted?  Is she coming back to see me?  Should I see her?  I promised my wife I wouldn't hire prostitutes anymore (although she knows I have friends), and my wife knows about This Girl and what I felt.  It was obvious at the time.  My wife and friends all said my head was elsewhere, that I wanted to not be home again.

You guys here on the board all said I should stay away.  It was good advice.  And I intended to follow it.

But there was that one little thing bugging me -- the fact that I lied to this girl years ago.  She didn't know I was married, and when we stopped each other I think she thought it was because I just couldn't have a future with a prostitute from some podunk Eastern European dump.  But I could have.  I happily would have.  I wanted her to know that.

I also thought it would be really awkward to see her again.  Is she going to avoid me if I show up?  Does she even care whether I see her or not?  What would we talk about?  Any of you run into an old ex girlfriend/boyfriend?  It can be weird, right?  Now imagine the circumstances surrounding your relationship 10X weirder.

So I did the prudent thing -- I called.  I called and asked to speak to her.  Just to see what would happen.

It wasn't awkward at all.  You know how you instantly fall back into the groove with old friends and family?  We laughed and briefly reminisced, and yea -- she admitted that she heard I was in town and hoped I would come see her.  She told me to call ahead so she wouldn't be working when I did.

Fuck fuck fuck.  I still really really like this woman.  But I also love my wife.  

A couple days later, I call ahead, and she can't wait to see me, and I get there, and the brothel owner is all smiles and The Girl is all smiles, and we go to a room, and sit on the bed, and we look at each other and ask what's new.  And I put on my wedding ring and tell her I'm married.  And she is like 'Wow!  I can't believe it!'  And she asks how long, and I tell her, and she pauses, thinking she didn't understand correctly (We were speaking English, but it's not her native language, and I clarify in the local language, which she is still pretty rusty in, but it sinks in).  And she says... 'so when you were here before you were married?'  And I admit I was.

This is when she hits me and cries.

Several hours later, some really hard, we've sort of managed to re-boot as potential friends.  This time we exchange enough information that we can stay in contact forever if we want, and there are promises made.

Yesterday I visited again. We went out and ate ice cream until we couldn't take it any more.  And just sort of had fun.  Put all the baggage behind us.  Then we went back to the brothel and hung out with some of the other girls a bit, and it's sort of like old times.  Except better, because it can last this time.

She wants me to be happy, and I want her to be happy.  Even if it's not with each other.

We both leave town at the end of this week.  I think my soul is a little lighter.  I ho

Second chances can sometimes be great gifts.