It will happen one Friday night after a few too many whiskeys.
It’ll happen on a Wednesday night after a few beers.
It will happen the next Tuesday night because everyone else went to bed early.
It will happen during a drunken one-night-stand simply because he smiled at me across the bar.
Everything will be slow…the lingering gazes, the flirtatious smiles. I’ll bite my lip as I try not to look in his eyes again. We’ll both look around to see if anyone has noticed the burning chemistry between us.
We’ll think we’ve subtly slipped away from everyone unnoticed. Someone saw us, though; someone always does.
I know you exist. In fact, you’ll even be mentioned. The ground rules will be discussed in between frantic kisses. “No one can ever find out about this….she can’t find out; she already hates you as it is…we’re about to break up, but this still wouldn’t be fair to her.”
I’ve heard every excuse under the sun. I don’t know why they just can’t be honest. “I just need sex right now; you’re here and my girlfriend’s not.”
It’s an adrenaline rush for me, this knowledge that I’m doing something wrong, the fact that anyone could walk in and find out, and that I’m breaking every girl code that there is.
But you know what? I don’t care. I’m not even truly sorry.
Maybe it comes from the fact that my dad cheated on my mom when I was four and he ended up marrying his girl on the side. Maybe it’s because I have the lowest self-esteem and any bit of attention is better than none. Maybe it’s because I really like your boyfriend. Maybe it’s because I just really don’t like you.
I’m sorry you’re boyfriend’s a dick and is treating you like shit. You don’t deserve that. But then again, maybe you do. All I know is that if guys aren’t getting something at home, they’ll go out looking for it.
And that’s where they find girls like me.