I want her; she knows it, and I know I’ll never get it.
She wants me, but more than that she wants her husband.
Something inside me makes me think that in a way she wants her husband to be a little bit more like me.
But then she wouldn’t get the illicit thrill that comes with our affair.
She called it an infactuation – I see it as me loving her with all that I am because that’s who I am.
She’d complex; a riddle wrapped in an enigma; sharp tongued, blunt worded, capricious, voracious, hypocritical, indefatigable.
She wants to be wanted. I provide that.
I just wish it didn’t hurt so much in the process