When I was 18 years old I fell in love with my boyfriend’s best friend, so, I did like any good girl would do. I ran for the hills and married the very next guy I dated. I’m not gonna lie, he’s crossed my mind many times over the years. I’ve got a pretty good marriage, and I’m not looking to change that, but a few years ago my old flame found me on Facebook and in a drunken chat one night he confessed his undying love for me.
I always thought he was feeling what I was feeling, but he’s this guy with unfaltering loyalty and integrity, so even though his best friend was a total douche bag running up my credit cards and cheating on me, he would never steal his best friend’s girl. He joined the Marines just to kill the temptation. He didn’t even tell me goodbye. We were on the verge of something, and then, he was gone.
We both moved on, got married, had kids, live relatively normal lives. There’s just one problem- some loves just don’t die. We’ve sort of taken to becoming BFF’s, which works just fine. We live hours apart, we don’t see each other. We text or chat or email, but we don’t hook up. We’ve had a few conversations about how life would have been so different if only….
If only! UGH. I hate “if only”. If only we had taken a chance, pissed off the boyfriend, ran off together, who knows! I mean no one gets me the way he does. But I can’t dwell on that. My husband’s a good guy. He loves me. I love him, and as any mother knows, you never regret being with the father of your children. My kids are the absolute best part of my life, and they wouldn’t be the same without the dad they have, so I know I have no reason to dwell on what might have been. It’s just, well, there is nothing like the feeling of adoration. There is something about him that draws me, like a moth to a flame.
I’m not gonna lie, I might just be an attention whore. I might be addicted to his compliments. He says I’m beautiful in a way that mesmerizes me. My husband makes me feel like I’m not good enough. I’m not thin enough. I don’t keep the house clean enough. I don’t work hard enough. I don’t make enough money. I don’t even have the right kind of hair- apparently it should be down to my ass and full of curls. He’s even wished I had blue eyes instead of green. Now before you go calling him a total jack-ass, he means well, its just that he’s one of those people who blurts out every thought in his head.
When I started losing weight, one day he exclaimed that I had lost my “roll”. Yep, that was a beautifully crafted compliment that just kept me going for weeks. I guess my husband is just one of those down to earth redneck kind of boys. He’s honest and friendly and funny. He’s a big kid. And he’s hyper. Half of our kids have ADHD and it would take you about 2 seconds to figure out who passed that gene on to them. He bounces off the walls 15 hours a day. Sometimes I find myself going insane with all the craziness around me, but really and truly its a gift. He can run circles around the rest of us. He can get so much done, and he stays in the happiest moods most of the time. Its just that when it comes to being a grown up, or having some romance, well, he just doesn’t quite get it.
I’m thinking of poetry and wine. Okay, I’ll settle for a cold beer, but the point is, I want there to be this point where there is some grown up communication going on. I wanna sneak away to a Bed and Breakfast. I wanna read a book and actually talk about it. The only thing this man reads is Craigslist. He’s not a lover of words the way I am. The BFF sends me verses of Shakespeare that remind him of me. He tells me he doesn’t know anyone with as sweet of a heart as I have. He married the first girl that reminded him of ME! He remembers this one little freckle on my thigh that even I had forgotten about. He sends me presents because I don’t do things for myself. And here’s the kicker, he’s not even trying to get in my pants because “that’s not what I would be looking for in mate, so that’s not the kind of man he wants to be.”
So if he’s not climbing in between my sheets, where’s the juicy confession? I can’t stop dreaming of him. It started out innocently enough. The memories of a kiss from long ago, brought back to mind, kept replaying in my dreams. But the other night, when my husband decided to kill the mood by putting a booger in his mouth, well, I went to sleep with all that frustration still pent up.
I had this crazy dream, my bff was with me, in a plush hotel room. Lucky me, since it was my dream, I was sporting my 19 year old thighs instead of the ones I have now! The dream played out for hours it seemed, we were making love every which way I have ever imagined and when I woke up to the feeling of kisses on my neck I was in heaven. I don’t recall ever waking up in a “supercharged” state like that before. I was ready to go UNTIL I opened my eyes.
There was my husband trying to make up for the night before, and guilt over took me. How could I be dreaming of someone from the past? I was completely lusting after a man who belongs to someone else, knowing I too have made my promises. If only (there are those words again) I could somehow merge these two men into one, I’d be on cloud 9. I know, it’s seems ridiculous, but in different ways, I love them both. I want them both. But I can’t have them both. The real world does not work that way, unless of course you move to Utah.
Back to the bedroom, my husband has this routine that just turns me off. He can’t get his hands off my boobs long enough to give any other body parts a moment of attention. I get so sick of the same way he does it every single time that I did something even worse. I closed my eyes, and I pretended the BFF was there instead. Suddenly my body started to give into the 7th grade make-out routine.
And just then, my husband farted. Not once, but three times, loud and proud. Then he laughed like a teenage boy. And I wonder why I have never managed to have an orgasm during sex? Off he went to work and where did I go? Back into that dream, where sweaty sheets were not met with boogers or smelly gas, just one helluva sexy ass on my almost lover from the past.