We are taught to think of the devil as a fallen angel. Most of us think of the devil as this mythical being of evil, with a scary face, horns and a tail.
The devil is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s over 6ft. tall, and 14 years my senior. He has caramel skin, a strong and muscular body, and a feathered tattoo that circles his left arm. He wears diamond earrings on each ear, non-prescription glasses, and is quite clumsy.
He has an infectious sense of humor. He’s a hard worker, and has a deep, sultry voice. He wears a wardrobe of almost exclusively grey, black and white.
He’s an alpha male.
I met the devil on a warm, spring afternoon, at a wedding. That’s the catch. The devil doesn’t hang out in fiery, hellish places of doom and gloom, no. The devil loves beauty. The devil hangs out in beautiful places, with pretty scenery. The devil likes to be surrounded by delicious food and cocktails, laughter and your loved ones. The devil likes to be around the people you trust. How else is he to tempt and deceive you?
The devil is dashing, handsome, and magnetic. The devil swept me off my feet, and I never saw it coming.
If my eyes weren’t covered, I would’ve seen the cracks in his façade. His rushed gestures, questionable sincerities, and quick temper. But I wasn’t paying attention, and I didn’t care. I felt too good to care. I sipped and took in all his red flags, like red wine warming the body.
That’s when the devil’s dance commenced.
Emotional intoxication, delusion, and rampant ignorance followed. I thought I’d fallen in love. I thought I met “the one”. No, not even close. Falling in love with the devil is impossible. Instead, I became addicted to the devil’s abuse. That’s when I met Stockholm, and she promised me that I was safe, in the close embrace of the devil’s tango.
I soon lost track of time. It’s been years, perhaps, maybe? I don’t know, because I’m still blindfolded. Dancing for what seems like an eternity…