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As such, this relationship — the one with me — is a village in a different country, on another planet. is in his mid-30s and works in finance, though he wanted to be a scientist. The screen on his phone is taken up by an image of his baby daughter; he moves it aside with his thumb and forefinger to search for a book I tell him he would like. has trouble with eye contact, so he says to his water, "You're beautiful." He has never eaten caviar, so we order a flight.'I could never have this conversation with her'I meet G. He calls me by my fake name, and I call him by his. You may get to know a deep tumor of the married man's soul, but you won't know his real name.) He looks exactly as he does in his pictures: dark-haired and big-chinned, vaguely politician-ish. He lives in a big city now but grew up in a small town where he married young. His wife is not intellectual enough, he says, but he will be with her for life."She just canceled her dinner, so now I can't meet you on Tuesday.Dammit, dammit, dammit." All of the men tell me that their wives would never guess they are doing this. "I've never been caught." This one has had affairs before. He wants to meet; he doesn't know I ran into him just last week. The more careful among them don't post pictures directly to the site, but they send a key that grants me access to a "private showcase" of images.Earlier, he sent 2,000 words on how he got into the game, the trips to California and Ireland, the way the clouds flood the greens at Galway Bay. The long puppyish emails, the condensation of an entire life into a few breathless paragraphs that allow him to retell the stories his wife has already heard.
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But my jaw hits the ground anyway when I realize whom I'm looking at. One man takes a picture in front of his 1987 Camaro, parked outside of a diner.
Maybe I shouldn't be surprised: 68 percent of the site's members are men, and their average age is 44 — right in his demographic. Some wax their chests and others are darkly forested.
When he is standing on the soccer field and children are moving around in a blur, he says, he slips out of the game and thinks of me, and if his Black Berry vibrates in his pocket, he hopes that it is me.
He tells me he had a brief affair with a woman from one of his company's offices.
I get a smile on my face when I have an email from you." He wants something from me that is not sex, even if it is disguised as sex. He thinks of me at work, he thinks of me when he is birdcalling. More: Ashley Madison has become a profitable affair On Ashley Madison, wives are mostly reduced to pronouns, and in that reduction they are less a human than a fact that shares their home.