IFLK

Motherfucker of a situation

Will spare the details

Would have been fine until a sneaky love crept in between us

Hungrily greased us up and then semi-set

That sticky, oily, foul mess of a thing

Smothering us, chains that we are to each other

She got under my skin, this one

Infused me with a lack of fear of the world and of living

No one has ever done that

Nothing seemed undoable, I felt so strong with her

I tried to impress her whenever I could

Altruistically watered her plant in the office

Offered not-so-good IT support

Always animated, cheerful, yearning for her and that laugh

That awful, wonderful laugh.

I fear hearing it now

Or seeing the achingly graceful, confident, elegance

Of her form

Some people leave little trace

She was not one of those people

She cluttered me with presents of memories

So many songs, it seemed, were “ours”

Which she would sing so beautifully, so badly

I have never heard such an endearing terrible voice!

Once, she helped me buy a rug that now, mockingly,

Tickles the soles of my feet, pushes the memory into me

A stain on the couch

Hours of IM chats and text messages

And so many other things…all around me…

But it would be pointless to go on.

So it seems she is gone now

The right thing was done, I know it

It would not have been right to go on like this

She made the choice to stay with him.

It was right; I am one, they are four.

it was practical.

…but, strangely, I was not afraid had the choice been different.

I will return to my libertine ways

And alcohol, I gave you up for a week, to prove a point,

to win a date with her that will never happen.

That will not happen again

I will clutch at sparks of connectedness that catch my eye

as I wander on socially, stagnantly

Some sparks will die out quickly, some might not.

It will be…fun.

But I want her to know that this is not meant to be a sad or grieving poem

Moving on is really not that difficult, we are designed to forget, to bounce back

But that is not the point, is it?

Life should not be about recovering from injuries

Looking forward to healthier times.

That drama is tiresome.

If anything, I am angry with myself…for being clumsy.

The love chemicals in my brain will soon return to normal

(or as normal as they have ever been)

And she will become another memory

And we will forget the intensity, the sweet stickiness of what was between us

Forget the details, the moments, the glances, the gentle embraces,

the drinks and conversations, cuddling to Netflix on a hotel bed,

her soft skin, her gentle breathing, her perfect warmth

Yes, it was just sex a few times, right? No big deal. Nothing really. A randy single guy and a bored wife.

My mind will forgetfully distill her into a simple memory of just a banal office hook-up,

A humble affair that she wanted to add to her 2 kids, college education and house in the suburbs

A perfectly normal life with just the right dash of drama and pinch of regret.

…Who knows, I may see it as a bullet dodged

And you, ___, something that strengthened your marriage, perhaps?

A third child to assure him…or just a new job?

And then, sometime, you will de-friend me on Facebook, after in real life

the kipple of life will dissolve what little we ever were

You might sometimes honor me by looking back with regretful fondness on our times together

Maybe when you are some tempest of an older, bored or unhappy woman…

But just sometimes.

3pm 2/dec/12