You were far away and yet made me so important. I craved it. Feeling important to the man who everyone loved. You made me laugh and think and see a life that my soul hungered and lusted for. I think you felt it too, the heady sense of hope and potential.

You started calling me as you drove home from work in the evenings. It made me feel. For the first time, I was experiencing life outside the oppressiveness in which I had spent so much of my life. Feeling was new and scary and also so so exciting. I wanted more of it. More of you.

I found a sweet, age appropriate boyfriend. You continued to fuck your way through our social circle. I kept a constantly rolled eye on you. You teased and flirted with me. I told myself you were not for me. You had plenty to keep you busy. I broke up with my boyfriend and moved away.

We ran into each other here and there. You were larger than life and I flirted with the edges of any room you were in. You asked me out and in a shocking fit of confidence I turned you right down. “You’re too old for me” I tossed your way as I turned and nonchalantly fled.

The first time we met you were fucking my friend. Probably a few of her other friends, too. I rolled my eyes at that goofy playboy smile. Not sure how you wore the “class clown with serious game” so perfectly, but you definitely did. I was sure, though that you would be my forever.

Dappled afternoon light misted our cheeks as I rested my head against your arm. Casually sat on a patio loveseat in a most unremarkable moment. Unexpected peace and pleasure enveloped me, whispering to my heart “you are safe now, even here.”