I’ve shared physical space with a woman whom I was not romantically involved. I was divorced and my support obligation ruled everything around me, c.r.e.a.m. get the money, I wrestled with the decision to struggle it out on my own but the perfect opportunity presented itself. A stereotypical, nitpicky, exacting, "clean freak", I’d met a female version of myself. She wanted to get ahead, I wanted to break even.
Our connection proved to be more beneficial than our intended purpose. She, with an intense dedication to her body provided a wealth of information on staying fit and of healthy eating. Me, with a love of knowledge and know how provided a wealth of information from technology to being a willing conduit into the world of men. We were not free from confrontation; we all have idiosyncrasies that push our emotional buttons. Those quirks provided teaching moments for us both.
I’m sure y’all know where this is going.
Lust, a sexual desire especially if strong or uncontrolled.
The reason I was comfortable moving in was in part due to not being physically attracted to her. Listen, her body is amazing however she was challenged in the face. That is mean to write but is important to the dynamic of my story. I understand that genuine relationships are not built upon force, demand, sheer physical attraction or just one person’s opinion. As we begin to learn more about each other; family background, views on relationships and life, I began to see the unmistakable beauty within.
See, women generally fall fast and hard with me, that’s not ego that’s just me writing. In a recent post I commented that I believed being honest about my intentions with women was not the same as lying. Translation, we deceive and then we deceive about the fact that we deceive. The closeness, literally & figuratively allowed us to connect on another level, our environment became charged with sexual tension. Jockeying for the position to be free from guilt.
Who came on to whom first.
A half naked body in the kitchen in boy shorts and sports bra. “Oh, I didn’t know you were home.”
An Aigle running top gripping my chest after an early morning run. “Oh, I didn’t know you were home.”
Love, an abstraction that’s hard to define or quantify.
Don’t make me make you [fall in love.] Someone always catches feelings; in retrospect I see clearly that those feelings were the beginning of the end. The signs for me were her wanting to spend quality time, you know boyfriend girlfriend stuff but we were not. She wanted and on occasion did introduce me to family and friends. These alone can be conceived as normal, the reason I now write in retrospect because at the time I believed it was normal. I felt loyal, I was faithful to commitments, spoken and unspoken. I thought of us as friends; true friends preserve confidentiality, avoid public criticism of each other and offer each other courtesy and respect. It should also confront illusions, however love is blind and lust has 20/20.