The Impossible

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We are falling so hard. It is intoxicating and devastating. It’s a gigantic, impossible bruise of a love. It is never going to end in anything but heartbreak. There is literally no rhyme or reason to it–I want to ask “Why?” but there’s no point.

“At another time, in another place…” He keeps saying. At another time, in another place, we would be something legendary.

But he is still monogamous at heart (even if not in action, at this point) and I am still not. Well, actually, chances are if a genie promised me my ideal relationship scenario, I would have a perfect, intense love with one person. And that love would last forever and we’d never even want to look at anyone else. But I don’t have a genie. So this is my life and these are my choices. My love for my husband and for Papa Bear preclude my being able to indulge my love for Boss Man, who wants me all to himself. I can’t say anything at all about it, because he deserves to have the kind of “one and only” love he’s looking for.  And he loves Tinder Girl, and she loves him. And yet.

The fire between us when our eyes meet across the room. Our little stolen touches–to tuck a tag, or a not so innocent brush by as we cross paths.

His hands on my face at the end of the day, kissing me goodbye. His pulling the car over when we drive together for work, allowing me to jump into his lap and take his mouth.

Me in his bed. Me in his shower. His cock in my mouth. His head between my legs. Him inside me.

The rumours we now ignore, because none of them know what they’re talking about. In his words “They talk of lust, not love.”

And we are so impossibly in love. The kind that is going to spread, like flames, up the walls of our lives, and burn it all to the ground if we don’t stop it.

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4 Comments on “The Impossible”

  1. Dasphys says:

    I think its worth defining 3 concepts : in love , in lust , love. Two generally have shorter time frames than the remaining .


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