The price I pay

I have always felt like if you keep a secret hard enough it is like that secret never happened. I am holding so many secrets. 

In April I met B. He is a full foot taller than me at 6’4″. He is athletic and lean. He wears glasses and has kind eyes. He smells like the soap section at the organic market.

Our first meeting was at 3pm on a Wednesday afternoon at a muddy beach parking lot. In the light of day he made me forget that I felt lonley and unwanted. We spent 1 minute small talking before his hand was up my dress.  I was disappointed because I knew this was all it would be now. I leaned back and enjoyed the ride anyway.  We parted ways after about half an hour. I didn’t see him for a couple of weeks after that.

Our second meeting was at the same spot. This time we walked through a trail into a meadow. It was a sunny day. We were laughing.  His hands were on my body and the sun felt so good on my skin. I remember looking up and at the blue sky and white clouds. Feeling wanted and content for a fleeting moment. 

The day before Easter, he invites me over to his home. I come naive. His home is cozy and clean. I want to lay out and take a morning nap on the big couch with the pillows.  I feel safe.

He sits and has me stand so he can take a look at me.  We end up naked in his library. Making a mess of the couches, table and floor. But something is wrong. He assures me it is not me and I believe him. We get dressed and go back to the living room with the big couch. 

We drink coffee and he tells me his secrets and stories for hours. We eat cookies and he makes eggs. I don’t want this part to end. But it does. 

I knew nothing would come of it. I am not sad that April is over and I will likely not see B again. I do not regret giving my body to feel something good.

 It’s the price I pay.


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