Confessions Of Someone Who Was Almost The Other Woman

It’s the break of dawn and I was pretty drunk 20 minutes ago, but now I’m on my way to bed and starting to sober up. The thing is that all I’m thinking about is how I would love to sleep with this married man.

For the moment it’s nothing about feelings and stuff, but a kind of personal trophy: level unlocked, you slept with someone with a kid and a wife waiting for them at home, while they are foolishly fucking around with some insecure 20-something year old. I love giving myself awards for actually meaningless achievements in my love life. It’s the game I always play: the one who you love to cheat with. Like playing a stupid strategy game, but you are too lazy so you google cheats and cracks which provide you a stupid noun you enter in a little box and hey, you suddenly can win the game in less time than you ever imagined.

The beauty of it is that there are no strings attached but you can still enjoy listening to a story, a made up story which expands during a predefined amount of time.

The truth is, I know the wife. She is pretty and nice and I enjoy talking to her. She is the sweet and sensitive type, she believes in true love and family. I look into her eyes and see sunshine and happiness. Yes, she has her once a day, half an hour bitchy moment, but still she is a lovely fairy queen.

I, on the other hand am a seductress, I conquer to prove to myself I still can. I’m such a minx. I should be put to sleep, not let loose among husbands and boyfriends. I really can’t help it. You would say that I’m a slut, but as the song goes, I truly, madly, deeply don’t do anything as a form of pure evilness. I just do the thing that is right at the moment, I indulge myself any kind of pleasure and meanwhile indulge others their restricted fantasies.

I like her, she likes me, he likes me, he wants to sleep with me, I do too. To put it even simpler, I am not a homewrecker, but the one that you enjoy for a short time just to confirm to yourself that you should stop fucking around and love your wife, put your kid to sleep and go on.

I can look into her eyes and feel no remorse or shame. Nothing. Maybe I am in that point of my life when I finally learned how to separate my needs from the needs of others, my happiness from the unhappiness of others.

So now, as the drunkenness is slowly fading away, I’m thinking that you are in bed with your wife but are thinking of me, because you text me and you want me so badly. I want to tell you that all of this is happening because you know not that you can’t have me but that you can have me as much as I will let you. This turns you on. I see the way you look at me and how you act like a buddy just so you can touch me harmlessly as others are looking.

Nobody suspects a thing. You don’t even suspect a thing.

By the time our sleepless nights are over, I will be gone, I will become just a grin on your face in lonely moments when you watch your daughter grow up. And maybe you will think, will my kid grow up to be the same? A cheater or a shameless bitch? Which one will she be?