Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2020-10-12 10:48:11 (UTC)

Smooth Waters

Mr. Curved Line has become a part of my life in a way I would not have conceived of when we first started texting. We'd met on an app where the timber of conversation was less than meaningful. I was asked repeatedly how much I charged and why I wasn't charging. It was debased, at best. And I felt equal parts hopeless and ironic comeuppance looking for connections that meant anything at all. My life had devolved to Tinder.

Along stumbles a Mr. Curved Line, just trying out connecting with anyone outside of his wife. And then, as they say, lightning struck. I was charming, witty, funny even. And he had no chance, nor did he ever want one, of escape. Somewhere along the line, I figured out that it was I who was caught. He was in a word, magical. I couldn't fathom how life had forgotten, it seemed, to grind him down. He was not without problems, some massive, none insurmountable. He had failings of his personality, but none that I simply could not abide.

And so it went each moment like falling backwards into a pool on a hot day, just gravity and the slightest push off. It was effortless and we connected as we took breath, uncomplicated and facile. Day after day, deepening into weeks and months, ever present and natural. The love we shared became more profound, more cherished and the lust like spreading water, fluid and engulfing. What struck me most of all was the we. I had expected, because of the way we met, that I would be smitten but I had not banked on his being right alongside me. So much of our early times were spent trying not to say what we felt, because the emotions were so large and affecting. And the societal expectations that we should not, as independent adults, succumb to love like drowning.

He was so responsive to me, as I was to him. The undercurrent of wanting and desire sweeping us away out to a sea of love. It wiped away the world around us until it was simply him and I and touching, breathing and feeling each other. And the words came ebbing and flowing into our shores. Gone were our prohibitions and inhibitions about naming what we both felt. It was arresting in its breadth of emotion and profundity. As he convalesced, we had time to explore the contours and promote each others' frankness.




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