June 21, 2014
She will be somebody unassuming. Not particularly intelligent or breathtakingly beautiful. Perhaps a colleague who sits across from you whose name you could never remember or someone from your peripheral group of friends, an acquaintance. Not the life of the party neither the wallflower, but she will catch your attention.
The texting begin innocently enough. "How was your day?" or "What was for dinner?". A sexual innuendo cleverly disguised as a witty joke. A lewd emoticon but no nudes. You have a girlfriend after all, you'd remind yourself. You will stay within the grey area, but you will push and test its boundaries. You won't drink the devil's water but you will dip your feet in. And you will want more.
A haphazard reason clumsily put together - to catch up, to blow off some steam - for a quick dinner or single drink at the bar. She will listen attentively to the things you have told me a million times and laugh at the right moments. This scene has played out before but you are empowered by the change in audience. She will play with her hair and lean towards you. An innocent push or brush of hand. She will be demure and coy but she will set you on fire.
When you go back with her the place will be foreign to you. But the different adds to the allure and mystery. There are no fights here, no humdrum routine just to get off. Your excitement will be fuelled by the clumsy fingers ripping the foil packet, the getting lost when you try to map her. And for the next eleven minutes, you will forget the world and who you are. For the next eleven minutes you will forget me.
You will not cheat on me because I wasn't good enough. You will not cheat on me because my tits are no longer perky or cellulite pattern my thighs. You will not cheat on me because I wasn't the trophy girlfriend who rejects your blow job requests or was unsupportive of your dreams. You will cheat on me because you are the kind of man who cheats. You will cheat on me because I am no longer shiny and new; when our love no longer burns like the desert wildfire it once was.
You will cheat for the novelty, the thrill of the new. You will cheat for the sneaking around, the web of lies. You will cheat for the flattery you find in a new vagina shaped placeholder. You will cheat on me until the warmth of the first couple of fucks die down and you dull her shine; that as soon as it carries even the slight bit of drudgery or obligation, you will find yourself something new.
You will cheat on me with a wisp of your imagination and you will wake up losing your reality.