Stay

“What’s with the butterfly?” you asked pointing to the tattoo on his forearm.
“I have butterflies every where I go, don’t you?” he said staring at my eyes. I had them. What are you doing. What are you doing. What are you doing. I kept thinking over and over in my head.
My two year old son asleep in his bed and my husband out of town. Here’s a man sitting on the couch the same spot my son was lying earlier. Lying. Lying. Lying.
You’re lying.
This is nothing. This goes no where. We are friends. He knows you’re married. He knows everything but doesn’t ask anything. How doesn’t he ask anything. This is nothing. We are talking the way friends do. Except I keep staring at his eyes and he’s staring right back at mine. And then he says it.
“I really want to kiss you” My stomach falls. There’s that pit. That first day of school pit, that loss of a loved one pit, that spotting a cop when you are speeding pit. But then it’s followed by a wave of excitement. Tension and excitement, like when you’re about to go down the first hill of the roller coaster… you hear the last clicking, click… click..click… you know it’s coming. You’re about to drop over the hill and scream. Put your arms in the air or hold on to the bar, either way you’re going down.
“You can’t kiss me.” You say wondering if you were able to hide the disappointment in your voice enough.
You aren’t a cheater. You’ve never cheated. You never would cheat. But why then, are you thinking of him often. Why are you wondering. Why are you questioning if your husband appreciates you. If you married too young. If what you were imagining was blinding what you really wanted. You are happy. A happy little home. A working husband who says I love you in the morning. Who never says you look beautiful, but you know he thinks it. You’re almost sure he thinks it. He’s just not much for gestures of romance but he is loyal and kind. Remember that. When you’re trying to fall asleep and you’re picturing the other one’s hands. What color are his eyes? You can’t remember but try to picture them. They’re dark.
You know what has to be done. You know you can never see him again. Because when he asks to kiss you again what if you let him. You know he’ll find a woman, a woman with as much passion and creativity as him. She’ll probably drink something strong with him like Jameson on the rocks. And they’ll fall in love the way you might have if it was five years earlier. You know now what has to be done. You know when he agrees you are both friends it’s a torturous lie. Spare each other. Forget. It was nothing, End it before it has the possibility to turn into something and ruin everyone’s world. Get off the roller coaster. Stay off the ride. Stay safely on the ground. Stay.

3 Responses

    • Im so glad you mentioned it Carly. I really love this piece of writing. A lot. I’ve actually been waiting for something like this to come in so I was really happy to find and read it in my inbox. And the photo I kept debating over as I second guessed inserting an image of someone so famous but just could not give up on it. I mean, that shot shows so much. Just like this prose. So real. And relatable. Think we’ve all been there, to a certain degree, at one point or another.

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