choices

Just a snapshot taken at a club of her and me. It is an impromptu “just fucking around” photograph taken on a whim… or so it would seem.

My cousin calls it “the picture that launched a thousand ships.”

She’s married, happily unmarried, but married. He cheats. She’s cheated. He’s an abuser. She loves to toy with his mind. A very miserable relationship. And I have been told by her sister that she wants me so bad she can taste the desire in her mouth like pennies. Tonight was the first time I have ever met her or spoken to her. She is pretty. She is Bosnian but she has stark white skin, blonde hair, and cold eyes… she looks Russian. An ice-princess. Although we’ve never met apparently she knew who I was and has lusted after me for some time now. In her mind it would be so perfect, my cousin and his girl, who is her sister, and she and I. We’d be one large, dysfunctional, fucked-up family. In her mind she “deserves” better… she deserves a man like me, and she obviously doesn’t know the real me, or else she wouldn’t mistakenly think she needs me.

But she is stuck in a dead-end marriage with a stupid dumb-fuck whom doesn’t appreciate her.

We all hit the club as a group to have some drinks, laughs, and unwind. Her husband distrusts me and is slightly intimidated by my cousin and I. He sees me as a threat and perhaps he should. I would never fool around with a married woman as I was married once and I would not want to be on the receiving end of infidelity. It’s just not right. But I will however flirt. I will have a good time. I feel-out my boundaries and then walk that imaginary line. As I did tonight. A light brush on her arm. When no one was looking a lingering look in her eyes. An innocuous hug. A smile. Several smiles. My cousin asks me to pose in a picture with her. We grin and look at the camera. We look so happy. We are total strangers but we are so dangerously on the verge of sharing each others bed. The air crackles with electricity. We both know what could “be.” We “could” blow each others mind if the stars would only align right. Or if we should happen to be at the right place at the right time, just her and I. There are so many factors, so many scenarios, and we both know this and we also know it might behoove us to avoid these scenarios like the fucking plague.

I walk the line.

She tells her sister that she wants me. Several times throughout the night. She tells her she hates her husband, as tears well up in her glassy blue eyes, she says she wishes he’d fucking die. That she could see herself with me. That she should be there , at the club, with me, not with him. That this is a mistake.

Her and her husband leave early. The situation reached a boiling point and none of us even noticed. He swears he caught me flirting with her yet he quietly slips out without saying a word to me. He was too afraid to have a conversation with me. She runs back in the club, tears now flowing down her ivory cheeks, and tells her sister they are leaving.

The next day I find out she moved out and they are getting divorced. I know it is not my fault, I was simply a catalyst. There are deeper issues that have nothing to do with me.

When I hear this I get a slightly sick feeling in my stomach. Butterflies. I have always gotten this feeling in that moment of certainty when I KNOW I am about to sleep with somebody. The cold shiver in on my neck when I pull down her panties, when I have overcome those final resistances. When I am about to become one with another person. It is a prophetic feeling and it has always foretold events that will in fact come to pass. It is always right.

But is this the right choice?