The lights were dimmed.
We laid like straightened arrows in my bed,
me, alert and analytical.
My current bed partner, Landis, laid still with eyes closed and thoughts private.
For the past hour, we had committed an act of lovers. I kissed him like I could trust him, he caressed me like he needed me. We were passionate in ways only those who knew each other forever could be, yet I’ve only known him a short period of time. A few weeks, which to both of us felt like an eternity. I believed that he was the one I’d been calling on, that he was the one that all the other ones weren’t. I wanted to roll over and tell him that I loved him, because I was so full of it- but I knew that it would scare him off, So I decided to just look up at the roof of my bedroom and fantasize, maintaining to remain hopeful that someday he would be the one to calmly palm the chaos in my heart. Show me that I am worthy, more than just a fling in the sack for those who are on idle time. I tried to remain still, because I felt that if I moved he would remember where he was, here with me and not at home with his wife. The thought caused a temporary twinge in my chest. He’s married. Yes, I know. But I knew from the moment I spotted him reading the newspaper outside of our work building that he was the one I needed to focus on getting, and now he was finally here in my bedroom. “What time is it?” He whispered into the air. With each passing minute, it was clear that although the room was warm his body language was becoming more cold. I reached over and grabbed my iphone from my nightstand. “Its 12:16.” I turned the phone around to show him the time, and also catch a glimpse of his face in the light of my screen. Before I could get a good look, he swiftly jumped up and walked over to the accent chair where our clothing laid intertwined in passion. “Shit. Where is my phone?” He rummaged through his jeans and grabbed his black iphone out of the back pocket. “Damnit. My wife has called like 10 times.” His voice was in a quiet panic, like if he talks too loud she would hear him. “Why don’t you call her up and tell her that your with the fellas? You said before that you don’t usually get out.” I offered, but he doesn’t respond. He instead throws on his pants, sans underwear, followed by his socks and shoes and sat down at the edge of my bed. “I need you to know something Donna.” his gaze stayed away from my direction, that told me that the words I was going to hear were going to be ones I didn’t want to. “My situation is complicated. Right now, I just need someone who can provide me with the freedom that my marriage has not provided me. I need you to be understanding when she isn’t…I need my situation with you to NOT be complicated. Do you understand?” He then looks my way. I understand what he was telling me very well. He was asking me to be a shell of a woman for him, to console his heart and please his body when he needed it, selfishly, he wanted me to rid all of my expectations and live vicariously through the ideals of a pseudo monogamous relationship with him, holding on to the hope that one day it will be me that he would learn to love and put first. The situation he was asking of me, was one that only a mistress would and could accept. “Yes, I understand. I can do that for you.” I felt stupid after I said it, but the truth was..I could do that for him. Right now in my life I was hungry for whatever the universe was willing to give, and if that meant I had to have a limited relationship then that’s just what has to happen. I watched him as he stood and prepared to leave, it now being 19 minutes after midnight. “Thank you for the great dinner. Maybe we can meet sometime this weekend?” I offered, trying to maintain some sort of power. “I’ll email you in the next few days and let you know.” He came over to my side of the bed, leaned over and kissed me passionately, utilizing the beautiful and full lips that he was blessed with. Naturally I began to lay myself down in hopes that he would follow me, and as I realized his was he climbed back on top of me and broke away from our kiss, he offered no more words, just the warmth of his mouth on my earlobe, the warmth of his mouth on my neck. I tilted my head upward, because I wanted him to moisten every last inch of this erogenous zone, I wanted him to leave me with a feeling that would stay with me longer after he was gone. “I better get going..” He looked me into my eyes just as he did the day we met. Something about him was very dark, a mystery. We said our goodbyes and he left my room. I closed my eyes to go to sleep, but I couldn’t. I didn’t all night.
I thought about the times I laid in bed with those who were practically strangers. Thought about how we had just committed an act of love, mixing what was supposed to be an act of trust and compassion. At the end of each and every session, I wondered if what we had just practiced was indeed truth. I’d always have the desire to ask, “Can I trust you?”, but my smarter side always knew the answer. I suppose that we are all built with the common sense of worth. We are worthy of love, we are worthy of respect. But each time we are dealt with the cards of heartbreak we become like wounded children, that was me. A wounded child in the body of a 33 year pharmaceutical sales VP. A woman of power, I had the opportunity to take down dozens of people who crossed me, my power of persuasion in my professional life was ruthless, but a recent conversation with Landis proved to me that romantically, I didn’t know what I was doing…