We sit across from one another at the Greasy Spoon diner, reaching over the table to touch hands, caressing thumbs with the tenderness of a violin player. We joke and laugh, we talk, we sit in pure adoration. At the start of it all, the perks of the situation swam happily in my mind. Like most modern women, I felt I only needed a man for one thing, and a coupled lifestyle was not that thing. There would be no awkward morning-afters, no constant phone calls or texts. He loved me and worshipped me and spoke of our future. I know every inch of his face and he knows every inch of mine. If I had never let things progress, I wouldn’t feel the hurt tugging on my heartstrings when we needed to disguise our relationship or feel the jealousy when he went home to his wife, as he always did. I could have all the space I wanted and I would hear no complaints from his end. But what started out as a simple, no-strings-attached relationship (or at least the illusion of one) evolved into much more. Maybe it was the jolt of electricity we both felt when we first met and shook hands or maybe it was our mutual understanding of the other’s troubles. We became each other’s go-to when one of us needed support. Anti-Love Song Lyrics:"If we had known our love would come to this.
As the lover you get the edited highlights of a marriage: the laughter, the smiles, the sex. But what we lacked was emotional closeness — that lovely sense of wasting time together and the accompanying feeling of certainty. And I’ve made myself a promise: in my next relationship, I want Sunday nights and Monday mornings together, and all the boring minutiae of daily life that couples take for granted.
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Was listening to stupid boy today, been the giver and receiver of what the song talks about in my time. I'll probably get some flak for posting this poem, since it's in the form of a love letter from a married man to a married woman (not his wife).