I hadn’t seen him in 19 years, when suddenly, lifting my eyes to meet his which, being as blue as mine, proved deeply penetrating, palpitations warned me (but not until late that evening, upon reflection) that I’d leaped upon the fast track much too quickly, compelling my smarts to dial down whatever could possibly happen between us all the way back toward the safe haven of friendship before the mesmerizing nature of his interest in me could dizzy my thoughts to the point of making haste down a path where eroticism was sure to barrel straight past my level headed attitude, which had set a high value upon marital vows taken, decades past, suggesting the surety of my harboring repressed regrets if thoughts of cruisin’ toward a love affair had no intention of stopping to consider whether my visceral eagerness to follow wherever this enchanting spell of mutual headiness was taking us would end with both crying into half empty cups, which had been full to overflowing before our fiery attraction, igniting a wildly impassioned fling, had burned holes through the peaceful concept of trust within two amiable households until all that was left of lasting love was a pile of ashes swept up into a little black cloud on a cold gust of wind, hanging heavily overhead both abodes where lighthearted laughter had dimmed. And knowing that Will, Barry, Steven and David did not deserve to experience heart break dealt by their devoted wife and loving mother, I, pulling back on my reins, pulled out diplomacy as seen, directly below, in my reply to his email request that we meet before I flew home:
If in any way I’ve misled you, please accept my apology. My husband is my closest friend, and in no way would I ever harm him. The most I could offer is friendship if you’d like to give that a try. (And while being truthful with him and faithful to Will, that was the first lie I’d had no conscious clue of telling myself in many a year.)
His response: I thought you were a wonderful person, as soon as I saw you. Then when you said your friends understand why you devote all of your time to your mother whenever you fly in, I knew I was right. I think welcoming this friendship would be worthwhile.
And that’s how it began. The friendship, I mean. Which was complex, right from the start, being that denial of erotica refuses to be wished way; in fact, erotic sensations denied grow ever more viscerally intense, day by day.
Speaking of my visceral eroticism, those engines had begun to purr at first sight of his swaggering approach when I was all of seventeen. So with any luck, the storyteller, within—who, being self empowered with the intuitive freedom to retrieve lost keys that unlock secrets, hidden from my conscious awareness within subconscious storage—proves a bit too independent much of the time, so let’s hope that rather than going off on an intuitive tangent as frequently happens, she sees fit to swing straight back to that insecure teen-aged stage of my life so as to highlight a string of inter-related insights concerning the step by step development of my inner self when next we meet ...
🙋🏻♀️Annie
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