Disaster…[adult]
You know it’s going to end in flames.
You know affairs have a shelf life. It’s a dead end. It won’t be pretty. Thinking anything otherwise is just foolish.
Here’s my advice:
ENJOY THE HIGHS
The highs make the lows worthwhile. Live for those moments. The ones that you can recall just by closing your eyes. Of strong fingers kneading soft flesh and lingerie being pulled away. Of sighs and special wonder of two people coming together quite perfectly.
The instant you close the hotel door and push each other towards the bed.
“I can’t wait to touch you.”
“You are all that I want.”
“Make me yours right now.”
I joked, “Better eat your Wheaties!” to one lover. “You are going to need your energy.”
“I will,” he responded and added, “You, too…”
Searing hotel afternoons where I felt transported by a flood of orgasms. Everything else melted away. Those hours were like a dream. I couldn’t wait to be naked, skin on skin.
Seeing your perfect naughty-as-fuck smile in my brain afterward.
THE LOWS ARE BRUTAL
Because it eventually does end, and it’s worse than you ever thought.
Adulterous relationships flame out spectacularly. It can be the partner doesn’t love him or herself enough to reach for happiness in the face of fear and uncertainty.
“Being comfortable” in a stale marriage beats the harsh, lonely road of going it alone. People give a lot of lip service to “happiness,” but most of us crave safety and security.
I know I do.
“It’s too hard,” I’ve said. It’s weakness, pure and simple. I know that about myself. I don’t want to put that effort into another uphill climb in a relationship that will most likely end up with the same issues.
I know I’ll always take the easy way out.
It’s only a matter of time before the cheating starts. Always wanting more. Speculating what I can get away with.
TAKEAWAY
I’m using my tiny corner of the internet to warn you. Move cautiously. Avoid getting shattered. I know you won’t listen. I didn’t either.
When it’s time to put your life back together, broken-china-style, let’s hope the jagged edges don’t cut you. Your wellbeing is paramount. Put bandaids on the deep gash and try not to bleed out. Healing is slow.
Torturous, even.
I’m in the throes of it now. Healing means looking at the “what ifs” and closing your eyes to the possibilities. Healing means not praying for your affair to re-ignite. That blaze has torched the ground. Nothing will grow for years.
It’s time to work on yourself.
Start a project. Learn something. Set a challenge. Anything that distracts. All of this is the standard mumbo jumbo claptrap of a bazillion relationship articles.
I know you’ve read it. I have too.
This sad truth is inevitable in adultery. We’ve been down this road, and it’s smoking. I’ve had enough affairs that flamed out to have this memorized.
You know it’s going to end in disaster.