I was infatuated. My god I’d never felt lust like it, you could literally make me go weak at the knees. I don’t know exactly why, I couldn’t pinpoint any particular thing, you just had an effect on me that I’d never felt before, and haven’t quite felt since.
We spent months growing close. Friends, with some mild flirting. Stolen glances across the office and shared jokes. You took a genuine interest in me, my life and were so kind. I valued kindness so much. We both felt the attraction but nothing could happen, I was still married, but things weren’t right and you didn’t know I was soon to end it. Until I did. I confided in you, and we grew closer still, months of pent-up secret attraction becoming a possible reality. My insides were like jelly, my brain fizzed at the thought of being with you and I felt like a pressure valve about to burst. When we were in that bar the first time we went out, if you’d asked me to get naked and have sex on the dance floor I probably would have done, because it felt like we were the only people in the room. As it was, we at least waited until we got back to your house.
I didn’t want a relationship with you as such, I knew that I needed to be on my own, that it was healthy for me to be alone and figure out my life, and I’d separated you out from the end of my relationship, but I did want to spend time together, to see what might develop.
I didn’t expect you to turn around after a couple of months, months with snatched moments of bliss in a time of absolute shit for me, and tell me that actually, you’d been seeing a couple of other girls as well and one of them was now your girlfriend.
Thanks for that.
I can’t actually find the right words to write how it made me feel, but suffice to say, it was pretty bloody shit.
Took me a hell of a long time to get over it.