I love my husband and do not want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship.
Any fantasy I have of me and another person, after more consideration is less appealing.
So when I found myself sitting next to a young guy at a bar asking questions I smiled and ordered a drink. He was young, a little nervous and when his friend showed up he lost his focus – the concentration gone.
It was a rough night. I was asking the bartender to blend fruit for my father upstairs because it was so uncomfortable to chew. I had engaged an emotional survival tactic hit of grass earlier and remnants of my earlier high lingered. Then when the bartender offered me a drink and a preppy kid who finished swimming laps encouraged me to order, I found myself drinking a vodka soda while the blenders were cleaned to smooth my dad’s fruit.
I omitted references to my husband and three kids because why not, for one drink while my father fighting his cancer laid upstairs in his bed awaiting pureed watermelon, while my kids with whom I was able to spend time at their school holiday parties were being bathed and fed by the nanny could I not engage another person with trivial facts and pretend or hope or pretend to hope that a possibility exists for more fun outside the bar? To grasp hope for one moment and fantasize how the little shared details might affect the future together.
The giddiness appeal to me, feeds the ego. But the end goal of all excitement and unknown is to end in a relationship like the one I already have with the man I love and who loves me unconditionally. A great father husband and soulmate.
Since I’m not looking for more, I’ve granted myself permission to flirt. To pretend there could me something more. But i know that the fantasy of another person is infinitely more attractive than the reality and all of the consequences that accompany that transgression.