• if you only knew

    by  • April 8, 2014 • Cheating • 0 Comments

    There are so many things I want to ask you and I don’t know if I ever will. This whole situation is so fucked up, so ugly and so beautiful. My head spins when I think of you.

    There’s the moral aspect, of course. They say once a cheater always a cheater, but I haven’t cheated before you and, well, I’m not sure if there’s an after you yet–we seem to have endured a lot already–but I don’t think that I would cheat in the hereafter either. I’m not a particularly pious person, but I tend to flaunt things and cheating just doesn’t lend itself to flaunting.

    Am I the first for you since you’ve been married? You’ve been with her for almost ten years, trapped, you say, you surrendered for the good of the kids. You say you resigned yourself to it all long before you met me.

    And why me? What on earth could you have seen in me? When we met I was a broken barely 20 year old kid in some weird transition period. I was fresh out of a seriously fucked up relationship. I had a crush on your meathead best friend until after months of persistence you got me to realize that you were -there- and interested, so interested, and we talked on the phone a lot and I knew I should have stopped it all then but for some reason I didn’t have it in me and after a while of not stopping it I fell so hard for you.

    You know the skepticism here is just a defense mechanism, don’t you? You’ve always seen right through me. You love me and I damn well know it because I can see it in your eyes when we talk–isn’t that trite? And sometimes when we’ve gone months without talking–it’s almost always you who breaks those silences–and I’m aloof and guarded and coy, it’s you who chastises me. “Why <3, can't you just say it?" That isn't to say you aren't using me–you are, but I'm using you too. Isn't that what love really is?

    As for the sentiment that accompanies the fear: my world is easier to deal with knowing that you're in it. Something about never being able to have you, never legitimizing this in any sense beyond illicit weekends and late-night Skype calls reassures me that I will always have you. You act in manic extremes just like I do; you burn for me or freeze me out. I am terrified of you and I love you. I am terrified of you because I love you. I love you because I am terrified of you. There is no beginning or end or logic or anything to any of it, there is just us. I should have never met you, we shouldn't have happened, but we did and I wouldn't take it back for anything. You are the only person I've ever fallen for completely. Mind, body, and soul, I crave you like nothing else.

    I love you, truly, madly, deeply.

    I am yours always.

    S.

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