Someone else's husband.

He smelled so good all the time.
Made me feel petty.
Never had to do much.
Wrote me long emails and messages.
Cared enough to call.
Was consistent with me.
Shared thoughts with me.
Got lost in time with me.
And sometimes negated all other obligations to be mine.

Yet.
Its was all a lie.
Fact and fiction look the same sometimes.
Had to find a boundary.
Had to stomach wedding photos and rings and phone calls in the night.
Had to endure the fakeness of knowing it was all an insincere ploy to make me vulnerable enough give in.
To be callous... not care that I was breaking a universal law or violating a love affair ordained by heaven.

Because, I had let my guard down with someone who smelled, looked and felt like my dreams but he was someone else's husband.

I wanted to believe the lies so they could be true.
If I did, I remained satisfied.

But since I couldn't.
And knew I really wasn't cut out for being somebody's wife, perse, I walked away full of hope that one day all my sensibilities to sensuality would not cost us anything.
All my worries on someone else's domain, with someone else's intended, or someone else's paramour...justifiably sinning as loneliness takes over my physicality.
I am thinking that one day, it won't actually cost me anything
to
be
loved.