Sometimes, not often, maybe 3, I've met a man I thought I could love. There have been others whom I thought I did but the infatuation passes. Or I did indeed love but not in a grown up whole hearted way. Then when they think they have nicely caged my beast and she won't run away or need feeding, or fucking or watering, they flirt with my best friend. They start treating me like a caged bird, rudeness replaces tenderness. The roughness around the edges becomes a cheesegrater to my emotions.
Apologies are thrown about like toffee. It's already too late. My heart turns to stone with finality.
The lies start. The trying to make me jealous with butch Lesbian rugby players begins, when he accidentally on purpose leaves her picture open on his iPhone. Only he doesn't tell me she's gay. But I don't care. I'm not sexually jealous.
Then something in me recoils, I don't want to be caged. And I certainly don't put wedding rings or GPS satellites on anyone. Freedom to roam is integral, privacy is part of that. Then I realise we're just part of a tsunami of his incoming, that he needs constant distraction and avoidance to stop feeling the cancer of hypocrisy and lies his entire life is cloaked in. And you (I) became part of that. Unwittingly we are the lie, love vanishes like the delicate crushed violet scent of a fragrant candle lingering the next day. It's just a memory and I crave it and stay, in spite of rudeness, callousness and blurring all the boundaries between what I know and who I see, this insecure inadequacy standing in front of you.
Then love and desire turn to contempt swiftly, like milk left out over night. When my best friend says "You've been used," the truth slaps me hard in the face. Yes, that is what it was.
Actually I got to a place of resignation in myself, that I had the courage and saw this man's greatness, where perhaps none existed, because there was a gap or perhaps he projected something I think I lack, just for a moment. I stepped into the gap and allowed the vision to become real. But he never could own the reality, he couldn't live up to whatever reflected glory he aspired, I aspired him to.
How glad I am that I got out now, sent him back to his big, fake, God schmearing life, Kermit the frog and mewling family, now and not later.
Affairs. Remind me, not to have them anymore.