CHEAT: Verb - Informal. to be sexually unfaithful

22: The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is.

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Wed, 11 Sep 2013 22:15:00 +0000

The end.

Its not some happy ever after fairy tale. You wont find us skipping away into the sunset pushing a baby carriage.

I didn't win.

Win what? Everything. Anything. Nothing. I lost it all. Lost him. Mostly I lost me. Because who I am now I don't recognise. I don't know how to get back to who I was, or even if I want to. I hope I've learnt a lesson. Would be nice if you've learned one too. That together we could say that it was all worth it. That it wont happen again. That it was a lesson well learned.

I feel as if I've thrown my heart away. Was too careless.

And every time i think of him and her together it breaks all over again. The best moments chase through my my mind, followed by the worse.

I wonder what I could have done differently. Should have done differently.

Thats the funny thing about the end. It makes you look back instead of forwards. It would be nice to say I got caught, that we got caught. That I chose him and he chose me.

I did.

He didn't.

And I wonder if I just wasn't enough.

He broke my heart.

Then again, I did too.

21: "Love is a game in which one always cheats"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 23:11:00 +0000

They say a girlfriend always knows. You know, that she's being cheated on. Who's they?? Probably the bastards doing the cheating! Surely they must be bastards or sons of bitches to behave in such a manner or treat women in such a way.

I know I'm being cheated on, so yes THEY are right!
How do I know?? How couldn't I?!! Things are so much more different. He doesn't spontaneously cuddle up to me anymore- nd I know its a feminine action that used to bug me but I miss it. He doesn't over text me with questions, wanting to know what I'm doing, or when he's going to see me. I don't get the offers for him to come pick me up, instead I get a 'be careful on the bus, yea babe!' - ON THE BUS??? This was the guy that used to insist on driving me everywhere, as if public transport wasn't safe enough for me!

When did the cheating start? Are female meant to be able to sense this too? Should I be able to give a detailed explanation of when this occurred? Be able to explain or blame all of 'this' on me because surely I wasn't there when he needed me so all of this must be my fault!!! I always thought he was better suited for my best friend, they are sooo alike its not normal! Likes halves of the same person!! Opposites might attract, but if we all wanted the opposites of ourselves then we would settle for that! I wanted someone to complete me, to provide what was missing in my life. I think that was problem number one, if I couldn't bring myself happiness I had no business looking for someone else to bring happiness to me!!!

Who is he cheating on me with?? I think I'd turn into one of those neurotic crazies if I honestly gave this too much thought!!! He has as much female friends as he does males. I'm not searching for a needle in a haystack! It could be anyone.....well anyone but my best friend!

So I know he's been cheating on me!! Why do I stay with him? I'm going to try to answer this, and if I can't, then I guess staying with him is the wrong decision. No neurotics, but I can't help but question myself, what's wrong with me?!

20: “Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.”

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Fri, 19 Nov 2010 10:12:00 +0000

If it’s not human nature then what is it? Some things can be excused away. The odd date with a friends ex, BEFORE you found out that he was her ex and in fact broke her heart. Would, should and could have stopped the date from occurring if you had known.

Rules are meant to stop things like this from happening. The girlfriend code is supposed to protect all members; did this mean that I wasn’t in fact a card carrying member? Was I ever? Surely I’m sure do have broken every guideline, pledge, and promise that an upstanding female gives before being provided with the assurance that her life was safe from ex’s reoccurring because her friend was now dating them, or the worry that Mr. Right would be swiped from under her nose because another female (supposedly her friend) had decided he was more right for her then he ever could be for you!

Protection, its sounds wonderful. Perhaps a little ideal, which could possibly explain why throughout history this code has never worked. It should have been revamped. Surely Henry VIII and his numerous wives should have shown that females have no camaraderie. I mean how many females did he have to destroy and yet we still went like lambs to slaughter.

So if I was following the code as I was supposed to this would be the version of events:

1. I would sleep with Trey, be suitably horrified to have enthusiastically leapt over any and all friendship barriers that had been there so long they had roots.

2. I would rush and confess all to Kendall, knowing that some grovelling would be required as she had confessed to always liking trey.

3. I would see how visibly upset Kendall is by my actions would shut my legs and attempt to be a better friend.

4. No affair would progress as I would remember the shame that I felt whilst confessing my actions.

It’s funny, because I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship but it happened anyway. I used to think negatively of anyone that could carry on an affair or cheat or act in anyway similar to this. Now I know it’s possible to love more than once. That true love may not be limited to 1 per person like the persons free Santa gives out in the shopping centre every Christmas. I’ve experienced the yearning for one person whilst lusting after another. You’re probably disgusted and I honestly should be too, but I can’t feel disgust for love. It’s a gift that we all wish for when we don’t have it. A completion that we take for granted when we do have it. A miracle that is abused and mistreated, mistaken for something lesser or simply not recognised at all. It’s nice to think that we all have a one true love, but I no longer think this is true. I can love what is mine and even that which is not mine. I can want one when I am with another. I can keep them both for now, can’t I?

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19: ‘You don’t leave the people you love alone......’

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 11:36:00 +0000

There is a poem about love. There are a lot of poems about love. People have been talking and writing and recording love since the beginning of time. Cupid holds no patent or copy right on it. It was central to society then and it is still essential now. As unavoidable as the fall and rise of the daily sun. Whether people call it a fable or a lie or a fools dream, people succumb to it all the time.

So this particular poem lists the attribues of love.

“Love is kind.......

Love is patient......

Love is......BLAH......BLAH.......BLAH.....”

I’m sure that you have heard all the other things that love is.

The reality? There is no encompassing comprehensive list of love to follow. It is neither simple or straight forward. No rules. So when rules are broken, it’s logical that love is even harder to determine.

Cheating is cruel not kind. And love that develops from it? Cruler still. Is cheating patient? More so than love. Maybe. It takes patience to endure. But with the knowledge that life is far from short and an awareness that we don’t have all the time in the world and nothing lasts forever. I live in the moment. I may be hooked on the drug that some call love. Guilty of taking and enjoying what is not mine. If i have learnt anything from my situation its that rules dont apply to everything. John Lennon said ‘ life is what happens when you’re making other plans’. I think hes right. Whilst i was busy planning, plotting, considering all possible situations Life was happening. Lust was sneaking up on me and love was getting ready to knock me out.

Mayhem.

If it has four letters, and begins with the letter ‘L’, chances are that its far from simple. If you’re really unlucky it can complicate everything. Send all that you know and are comfortable with off kilter.

LIFE, LUST, LOVE – All powerful. Over powering.

The first time that we had sex I didn’t love him. I lusted him. And the second time? Maybe I did a little.

Now?

It’s not about sex. I mean it.

What began as a curious, primative urge to scratch has become so much more. At least for me. If i was 100% certain of how he felt I would do anything, Face anyone. Step out of the shadows.

Its not easy to stop. Easier said than done. I hate who I have become. Shes not who I want to see when I look in the mirror. I want to get over him. To stop it. For the hurting to stop. I may not be ready to move on, but i want the chance to try. The option for everything to be ok. Normal. I want to be whole again.

18: 'Love is never kind and hardly patient.'

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 11:25:00 +0000

There are differents dephs to liking someone. And love? Thats a whole different ball game. I fell in love, and learned that you can't always be in control. It's not always possible to think or feel first. Heart or head? Neither path is easy. Life is not predictable or planable, and why should it be?
Some say its better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I'm not so sure, I dont know who would voluntarily choose to experience the rollcoaster of highs and lows with the knowledge that at the end you'll lose it all. If I eer find out i'll be sure to let you know.

Every action has a reaction. After the first kiss, Icouldn't stop feeling the impression of his lips against mine. An eternal kiss of guilt. Just guilt? I don't know. I aways said i would never cheat. I had this moral compass which never served me wrong. So i broke the 'never never' rule, but theres a lot of stuff I said I would never do. of lifes lessons are learnable. Some mistakes are meant to be made. Taye always says that there is no such thing as coincidences in life. Two people in the same place at the same time are meant to be there, no accident of fate.

Have you ever seen as boxing match? One opponant tries to best the other through a series of well placed punches. Two individuals fighting each other. Imagine a fight with two opponants and only one individual. My morals war with my actions on a daily basis. I'm constantly questioning and second guessing myself. Seeing things that are impossible to like. Judging myself, and since I am my own worse critic there isn't anything worse that you can say.

Until you have lved someone whilst daily hoping and wishing to hate them. You cannot understand my dilema. Sleeping with someone you want to hate because you love them leads you to hate yourself.

Have you ever loved someone so much that you hate them? Thats how he makes me feel. Love is a drug. Im addicted to it as much as I'm addicted to him. Is it the drug? I'm not sure. I seem to have more ailments with it than without it. It's the drugthat I am on right now. And it seems to be the most potant, what everyone strives towards. Finding their one true love. And I understand. The highs outweight the lows.

I love him, I'm not ashamed to say that. I accept it openly. It makes no sense warring against it. Fighting the inevitable when I don't think I ever had a chance against it. I hate that I love him. Hate myself forloving him when I'm still unsure of how feels about me. Actions speak louder than words, which makes him a very quiet man albeit sexually vocal.

I love him. The sad fact is I don't think I can ever stop. Even sadder? There's no bigger fool thna a fool in love.

17: 'A fool......in LOVE' KENDALL

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 23:31:00 +0000

5 years ago, before Taye and I became 'Taye & I'- the couple, they had a fight. Taye and Stacy that is. They never said but it was the biggest one yet. They never said what it was about either, but I jumped into the gap. Filled the void. If I had told Stacy what I planned to do and it involved any other guy she would say that I have executed Carpe Diem nicely. I seized the day and I seized Taye also. I had to. Often, we get given a chance to do something great or experience something spectacular and we don't take it. Choose not to seize the opportunity for a myriad of reasons, that at the time, far outweigh it. I often thought that Taye and Stacy would end up together. and not because everyone said they should. Or because both their mothers secretly and openly hoped so. But because they are two halves of the same side. Opposites might attract but they have always completed each other. So I took a chance when I had it.

I often worry, when I see Taye and Stacy together that their going to realise. Realise that together they could be a better couple than Taye and I could ever be.

I always thought I'd walk. If I suspected my boyfriend of cheating. That's it i'm gone. No second chances. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. Sometimes I look at him, and I don't know who he is any more.
Its more than the occasional curiosity about where he is. Why is he working late? Who is that new female friend? I never had to worry about the friendship things, since his female friend is my female friend too.

For years I was too shy, scared to act. Disabled by my own inhibition. I saw the type of females that were usually attracted to him and the types he went for and I didn't tick either box. Secretly, I hoped him and Stacy would get together, anything was better than the skanks that could often be found trawling after him. But she was always going on random dates, guys who were the polar opposite to him, ask her and she'd say “Taye, eww, he's my friend. Not my type”. Sometimes she'd wink and go “ OK why not, every girl has a go at him, you saying its my turn now?” and I'd know she was annoyed. Her dates were always disasters, and id hear the fantastic tales as we'd sit and sip her coffee. And Taye, well he was never short of women, they flocked in by the dozen.

16: "If at first you don't succeed...you obviously didn't try hard enough" CRAIG

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 01:49:00 +0000

I took my dog for a walk and saw a vision, stranded in a car.

She's gorgeous.

And the fact that she doesn't know it?

Simply makes her more so.

Irresistible.

Not just to me either. I see the looks that she attracts when we're out together. The quick intake of breath people take when she smiles or laughs at something unaware Pure beauty, that signs from somewhere within.

I'm aware of the looks that I get too. The expressions that shout 'lucky sod' or the occasional reflective ' mates or lovers'.

And I understand.

Know that I am lucky, and that circumstances have been kind. I cannot be blamed for pouncing on her when we first met. I didn't want to let a good thing pass. Its no secret how much I like her. Can a guy be smitten? I purchased a ring after the first month of dating. A promise to myself more than her. I wasn't so crazy that I proposed then, but I want her to be mine. She's a keeper, and I knew even back then that I wanted to keep her!

I've settled. Had to compromise more then just a little. Because I cant make her choose between me and them. I share her time with her best friends, because having a part of her, is better then having none at all. And if I love her, then why wouldn't I want her to be happy?
The lads would call me a mug, laugh themselves to tears, dry them, and then laugh some more. Say i'm whipped. Sing i'm whipped.

I chased her.

Pursued her.

Was relentless.

Knocked away all of her feeble excuses as to why nothing could work between the two of us. I'm ready to offer her the keys to my freedom, just waiting for her to say she wants to chain me up. She says she's not the 'jealous type'. I worry she's not the 'commitment type' either.

15: “Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.”

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 01:44:00 +0000

Wednesday's are orange. Used to always be orange. Now it's only occasional. Wednesday, Taye and my day. Always had been. I always thought they would be forever. A day in the week when there was no 'what's her name' or 'what's his name' for either of us. The one day in the week that neither of us accepted a date . Our day. We always caught a bite to eat, round his or round mine and then headed for a film.
This time it was his turn to choose the meal and in return I would get to choose the film. I intended to choose Twilight. Ultimate chick flick. Not because I honestly wanted to see it ( I had read the book and found that to be enough) but because I knew it would annoy Taye to sit in a room filled with females drooling over someone other than himself. It was also pay back for him dragging me to see all of the Saw's and Final destinations.

Since it was his meal choice, I drove round his. Arriving, I expected to find pizza. If anything Taye was a creature of habit.Instead, I was greeted by a table littered with take away menus but missing food. I probably should have stopped to think then. He usually has the food ordered and has eaten half whenever I arrive. Having gotten a head start simply because he knew I would try to best his eating, not out of hunger but the mere fact that I hated to lose.

We had a play fight over what to eat, we'd had one before. If he hadn't ordered then I always wanted Chinese. Somehow between swatting each other with the menus his lips found themselves on mine. It felt good and I instinctively kissed him back.

I never should have kissed him back. Or prolonged it past the 30 sec 'oops that was an accident' mark. I never should have let him kiss me in the first place. You don't know you like something until you try it. I can't tell you why I did it, or maybe I can. I wanted perfect. Who doesn't? Just one taste, and since he offered me more, I couldn't help but bite it. Nothing is perfect though.

One kiss led to two,and then me ineffectually tugging at my clothes till he swung me into his arms and led the way to his bedroom. Stopping at the foot of his bed to quickly remove his clothes and mine. We continued to kiss as clothes flew in all directions. Caught in a maelstrom of lust. Exploring each other bodies for the first time.
It was over nearly as quickly as it began. And spurned on it wasn't long before we were at it again for a second and later third time. Taye recovered first. Climbed out of the bed without looking at me stretched in all his naked glory and took off to take a shower. I lay listening to the spraying of the water and tried not to think. He returned pulling on his clothes. As yet to look at me or say anything. I sat up in the bed with sheets covering my nakedness, my hands clasped in front of my breasts as reality and dread sunk in. My eyes following him, tracking his movements and urging myself to move. Unsure of what to say and how to act I felt awkward.

I hate awkward moments, I half freeze. Silently pray to God to open the earth and swallow me up. Take me away from having to deal with anything, or even better to take it away from me. I picture natural disasters in my head and attempt to work out which would be most appropriate for the situation at hand. The most logical solution next to maturely dealing with everything. And as my hands clench into fists at my side and I regulate my breathing i'm praying for anything to help me. None of that happen, nothing that hadn't already changed, shifted.

He never offered me a relationship. Or wanted to talk about what had happened. Just pulled his clothes on, smoothed the wrinkles out with his palms and said “right, we better move on or we wont catch that film” the easy smile on his face belied the harsh reality of his words. I had never before been one of his cheap women. Been anyones cheap woman. He didn't talk to me as if I was one. He was now.

I threw myself out of the bed grabbing my things as I moved ran. I was still partially naked as I stumbled down the front steps of his house and threw myself into the car. He didn't move at first. I wasn't one for hasty actions. Not before anyway. Now I couldn't get away fast enough. I was manic and I should have been embarrassed by my behaviour. I felt cheap. Cheaper because of his words and how quickly he had wanted to move on. He didn't even pause to etch my initials into the bedpost. Was I so lousy a lay, that I didn't count as a conquest?

My life took an unexpected turn that day. Actually, it took a couple. And I learnt that some mistakes are hard to turn away from, which is when I ran. Craig was different. I'm not going to wax lyrical about him. He's special though, and I love that he wanted me when I didn't even want myself.

When you sleep with your best friend, there's lots to factor in. We do certain things because we can. And others because were told not to. Constantly reminded that we should know right from wrong. But when you're so caught up in something or someone, what's right and what's wrong doesn't matter. And when what's wrong begins to feel too right, it all goes out of the window.

None of this would have happened if I had remembered all of my lessons. The curriculum. HISTORY. What Miss. Evans my history teacher was always saying, ' history teaches everything including the future'. If I had paid attention I could have seen what would happen. If you act too fast, you only have time to think later!

Up until that point, I could happily say that we were just friends. Honest. Okay, maybe not always happily. But what we had worked. If we ever flirted, it never went any further. Situations were easily diffused with a few giggles or laughs. No laughter this time.

I drove till I was far enough away to fix my clothes better, and then I drove some more. Drove till I found myself in a country lane with no petrol and a handsome face talking to me through the car window.

14: “Life will teach you the lessons, it is up to you to learn them”

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 01:11:00 +0000

I was single for one month.

And then that soon turned into single for six months.

Before you knew it I had been single for over a year.

The pathetic one stop shop dates don't count either.

I failed to retain a relationship for over a year.

The longer you're single. The more permanent it seems. Not enough semi-decent dates during the drought cause you to think that you'll never find anyone. The worry sets in. and as the length of time you've been single increases, so does the amount of thinking time. You begin to find faults. Faults within yourself and the seems of your confidence quickly fray. Find yourself asking questions such as 'am I took picky?' or 'what's wrong with me?'
For the century of the independent lady, independence only goes so far! It doesn't keep you company, or cuddle you in bed. Its incapable of giving you a surprise visit. Independence, when single is unfortunately over-rated.

I began to date the reserve pile. I guess that's the first sign of desperation, and desperation doesn't smell nice else it would be a perfume. So I dated guys that wouldn't have even got past the initial hello but with the seems frayed and apart, got to learn my name and if lucky keep possession of my mobile number. But the reserve pile is the reserve for a reason, you don't really want to have to resort to using it. All the small stuff which could have passed as mild irritations become magnified. He chews his finger nails, wears his hair too long for stylish, he's never heard of lip balm and he's just too short. If none of the above, well, he lives too far for anything to work, and if he lives close, why date him, he can be my neighbour!

I have questioned my self-respect every day for nearly five years. Asked myself what went wrong. Sometimes you need strength to carry on, which is odd because my actions are those of the weak. No strength can be found in cheating or being the other woman. A dirty secret. I am weak a slave to passion and my own flesh. Its theft. I have his heart and sometimes his body, when neither should be mine to possess. If I hate it so much, why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.

*

There are important lessons which should be learnt in life, except they say the best things cannot be taught. You're expected to learn from history. In fact you're meant to. I guess that is why they put it on the curriculum with all the other main subjects. Its important.

They teach you English – you learn words, analyse text, debate and present. You learn all of that, yet when you need the best argument or explanation, there is none.

You learn maths, start by counting until you're progressing from the simplest equations to the most difficult of sums, where a solution evades you.

1+1 = 2. 2+2 = 4.

After four, you may count more. By itself a number, for me its two too many.

Science – biology, chemistry and physics, pretty self explanatory. Who hasn't felt the first sparks of lust, or its combustion when the attraction is just right.

And history, clearly the most important of all. We study the past to learn from it, we're not meant to repeat those mistakes in the present or the future. I was too short-sighted to see this.

Since when did poor sight mean that you had to be foolish also?

13: 'We must not say every mistake is a foolish one....only some...'

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 09:32:00 +0000

Can I blame Eve?

The first fallen woman?

God knows I never had a chance after her, did any woman? Kicked out of Eden. Do I hope Craig is more forgiving? Will I eventually seek his forgiveness?

No man is an island.
More importantly, no woman is either.

I reached out because I didn't want to drown in lonliness. Now I find myself more submerged than ever.

He's cheating with me.

Cheating on her with me.

One great big doubt, that won't go away, is that Taye maybe a leapard who can't change his spots. Sometimes I wonder if i should be trusting him as my friend, he's meant to be fully commited to Kendall and we all know how well that is going. I don't trust myself, so why should I place any trust in him? Sometimes, when I'm hoping more than thinking, I think that the cheating 'mantra' - "once a cheat always a cheat" is the exception rather than the rule. Going into situations such as this doesn't leave much room for initial thinking. But as the guilt is battering me, and pushing me down and further under, I can't help but think about certain things. You can justify anything, once you set your mind to it. The biggest opponant to that you lie to is yourself. I've justified alot.

The lipton icetea mullet, my hairdresser unfortunatly talked me into at a moment when i was clearly weak really did enhance my facial bone structure.
Or the shiny red shoes I purchased because I simply couldn't live without them really did enhance my wardrobe even though I owned nothing else in that colour.

Right now, I'm lying to my mum.
I'm lying to Kendall.
I'm lying to Craig.
I'm living a lie with Taye.
I'm lying to myself, and anyone else who is foolish enough to be envious of my 'great' life.

We all lie.

To cover up the things that we have done wrong.
To convince ourselves that it's all right.
To justify actions which we would ordinarily be ashamed of.

We lie so that we don't have to face the truth.

And when faced with the truth, well we simply lie some more.

12: “A heart is a fragile thing. So why not treat it that way?” TAYE

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 01:47:00 +0000

I am human.
Made in God's image.

Yet far from flawless.

I am human, so it's a given that I'm not perfect. Taking present history into account I don't act perfect either. I make mistakes.

I have flaws.

No excuse.

Truth? 'I look in the mirror and I don't like what I see.' If you're starving, and food is placed in front of you, smells good, should you not eat it? Taste a little? You can try before you buy at the supermarket. I think about that now though.
“ Would you like to try some smoked apple wood sir?”
Am I cheating on my usual value cheddar if I try it? Or worse like it?

Normally you look to others to blame. That's easy, isn't it? If I blame you I don't have to examine myself. Find further fault in my flawed image. In situations like this you blame the girlfriend or the wife. I could blame Kendall, claim its her fault. Say that its Kendall's fault, that she caused it. That she no longer fulfils all of my needs so I went elsewhere. What sort of WOMAN can't hold her man? At some point, lies and feeble excuses are not enough.

If I say I love her I'll look like a fool.

Her?
Kendall? Stacy?

Kendall is everything I thought that I wanted, sometimes more.

Stacy is all that I didn't know I wanted and more than I need.

Justification isn't easy either. Its easy to lie to others but harder to lie to yourself. It shouldn't make a difference if I say I have never cheated before, but I hope it does. Nor am I sleeping around with various women. There's no cliché it was 'only one time!' since the first time quickly turned into three and everything else became history. If I was honestly trying to hide it I think that would be worse. Or is it worse because I have made no real attempt to hide it? Everyone says that men and women cannot be friends. One side always feels more for the other. After the first couple of years the jokes stop, all of the hype dies down. The jokes about ' what were you two doing alone last night?' cease. As do the mocking or doubting raised eyebrows.

Could I simply say its their fault. They put trust in both of us too easily. If they had carried on the banter I could have 'Freudian slipped' a confession in. its selfish cheating. A wrong that is never right.

I'm lying.

I'm hiding.

I'm sinning.

Living a lie. Stealing what belongs to another. Craig should get to see this Stacy. I'm too proud to admit fault. Another mistake.

'Pride cometh before a great fall!' - Too late, I've already fallen!

11: 'Love at first fight?'

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 22:53:00 +0000

So that is how I met Craig.
Not the most ideal start to a relationship. We didn't have a cute story that I could repeat to my future Grand kids or even my mother. She thought we'd met in the supermarket. Apparently fighting over the last chocolate fudge cake, one of my vices and since I don't mess about when it comes to food, he had given in (obviously) and I had won. In return he had won my heartfelt gratitude and a date – the lucky bugger! Or so the story goes, at least that's the PG Walt Disney version of it.

I couldn't imagine telling my mother, that when I had first met Craig David (I still snicker whenever I have to say his full name, which is why I don't say it often.) I had been fooled into thinking that he wouldn't attack me at first chance.

HE BLOODY WELL DID.

I used to be able to say that I'm glad. Happy that I didn't panic and react without due care and caution. I was a rational female. Logically considered my options before acting. Act in haste repent at leisure? Not me. I am able to successfully say that I now don't jump and scramble for the proverbial can of mace, whenever he kisses me unexpectedly. Now, well- I kind of like it. Dare I admit- even occasionally crave it.

Rightly I should be happy to live 'happily ever after' with Craig. Sometimes I even think that I began to date Craig because I had to. No one forced me. Yet I had to, seen what life option number 2 had to offer and determined that that wasn't going to be me. Nothing has gone according to plan. I was meant to meet the perfect guy and marry him. Have 2.5 children and make my mother happy. Right the wrongs of the past. Be on the correct side of the fairy tale.

I grew up on the wrong side of the fairy tale. No 'once upon a time' for me. I learnt first hand and the hard way that life more often than not is far from easy. My absentee father, also displayed the fact that I was born on the wrong side of the sheet. Lived on the wrong street, in the wrong area. Went to a diffent school and never had the right clothes!

If you stay single too long people think 'lesbian' no one will say it, being PC and everything. And if they're not thinking lesbian, than they think something is wrong with you. Too picky. Or she doesn't dress herself right. Or if she walks around with that screw face how can she expect anyone to want her, look at her she doesn't even want herself!

Relationships. They're messy, but that's life!

No one gets it all. Not 100% anyway. I had 90% and greed led me to crave the other 10%. if I'm not careful I'll end up with nothing. No one gets it all but daily we take gambles. If I had made a life plan and followed it maybe I wouldn't be in this situation. To be involved in a love triangle or as the case may be a love square would not have made the list. Who has that on their 'must do before 60' list and if its place there where would it rank?

Expectations! Reality! They don't always match up. If this was a fairy tale, maybe. But I am my own hero, and this is my own story. I don't need to be saved. Craig did that once. I can do it now, it'll be all right. After all it has to be.

10: "Once bitten....Twice shy!"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 23:19:00 +0000

I could NOT do this again.

I was not ready to take another emotional battering. No energy to climb back to sanity.
I scrambled away from him, scurrying in my haste to get away, tripping over my own legs and landing in an graceful heap on the floor. I popped up and stood behind the chair. Eyes wide, face frozen like a deer in headlights.
“NO” - his hands are raised and he's cautiously edging towards me, “I'm sorry, didn't mean that to happen.

And I pause. Who am I fooling. It's gotten really late whilst I sat there chatting to Craig I'm not foolish enough to run outside without a well thought out plan ready to be executed. Really, I had to be rational. Weight up my options. Outside awaited me a dark country lane, a car with no petrol and no mobile. I decided to be reasonable.

I hadn't realised that he was getting closer to me as the conversation drew on. When he had first led me into his house I had sat across from him. One hand gripping my handbag.

First cup of tea.....he's opposite me. We're talking. The conversation is flowing nicely I'm secretly plugging him for information in case something happens. This is what I learnt. His name is Craig David, unfortunately like the 'singer'. Hates jokes of this nature. I bite my tongue to stop me saying “can you fill me in” or pointing at his tea and crying “what's your favour? OOo, tell me what's your flavour hmmmm!”

Second cup of tea....and he was next to me. Not a problem honestly. At least not yet it hadn't been. It wasn't as if I could feel his breath on my face when he spoke or anything, I think that would have been a major clue that I need to move seats, or move on out the house.

So I had three illogical options.

One, I could run to the kitchen. It must be loaded with utensils that I could use as weapons. But did I really want to be the one calling the police from a strangers house. Waiting for them to arrive, then having to explain not only what I was doing in said strangers house but also why I had been stupid to enter said strangers house and stay till dark whilst drinking three cups of tea. I also didn't think I'd be able to explain a fatal or semi-fatal knife wound as a self defence reaction against an unwanted kiss.

Alternatively, I could take him on. Man to hmm..not so man and just tackle him down. Logically speaking, it was safer then the knife option. Though I didn't really want a record that said I had used G.B.H. On some guy because he kissed me. Pathetic right. And lastly, I re-evaluated my run plan. Virtually plotted the escape route. Doubtlessly it would be a lot more difficult to execute in the dark.

I clenched the sofa. The corduroy uncomfortable beneath my palms, whilst my body rocked on the precipice of fight or flight. Watched him. He was watching me back. His mouth moving, slowly and wordlessly. As if he was rehearsing just what to say. I calm myself down. Reach an appropriate level of normalcy. Or as close to normalcy as I could get at that given moment. I release the chair from its hostage situation and knot my hands together. My fingers still sore and tense.
“it's okay...” I said. So muffled that he continues to look at me. His blank, confused expression the only reply that I'm likely to get. I close my eyes, clear my throat, cease ringing my fingers like their wet laundry and repeat.

“It's okay!” he smiles back at me. Though it seems far from real, its so strained that it refuses to sit comfortably on his now, 'I could be a friend but have I screwed it up?' face. So I nod, whilst smoothing back hair off my face- anything to resemble a reasonable looking female. I also knew that I had to keep my hands occupied or else they would be attempting to wrap themselves(with slight force from me) around his neck.

Neither of us had moved yet. The undercurrent in the room contradicting my previous words. He's looking at me and I'm looking everywhere else.

Checkmate.

I move first, hands still fidgeting now with the the buttons on my shirt.

I sit down.
Pick up my half empty, and now cold cup of tea and stir it.

9: "If men are like buses....why catch one?"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:55:00 +0000

Sometimes, you take a step too far.
Turn down the wrong path only to learn that its a one way street, and with the exit so far away...you follow the road in the hope that at some point you'll get direction. You don't always get to have your cake and eat it. I've had indigestion for months now. Anxiety at my own behaviour. It's easy enough to tell myself to stop. I say it most times I look in the mirror!

STOP!!!

But stop doesn't delete memories. It doesn't erase emotions. And most importantly it can't rewind time.
We've got closer in the past year. Craig and I. Which in itself is ironic, because in the past year I couldn't have begun to move any further away from him then I already have. Sometimes, when he's being nice I want to be mean. Just so he has reason to dump me and I won't have to break his heart. Does he suspect? I don't know. Who introduces their boyfriend to the man their cheating with? Craig's great as well. “The perfect guy” my mother said, the first time I introduced her to him. Having spent years imagining that Taye and I would settle down together I know it cant be easy for her. Or Mary, Taye's Mum. It's with the best intentions. But what do they say about that? Even with the best intentions things can go awry.
I can't blame Mum. I can't blame Mary. I blame myself!

Craig and I met 5 years ago. 5 years ago when I had done something bad. So bad that I couldn't function. Had found myself driving around for no reason until I was stuck in a country lane. No petrol. No phone. Just an immense amount of silence and I was forced to relive my actions again and again in my thoughts. Until, this friendly face followed the hand of someone knocking on my car door and I had had to wipe my face....adjust my appearance and open the window.

*

“Need help?” he asked.

I looked at him, his hair was a light shade of brown peppered with specks of blonde. I didn't know this now, but later when we got together I called them his sunshine's. He had sprayed sunshine onto my life when I had been feeling most down. His eyes are great too, so expressive and at that moment in time said friendly. So that I was inclined to talk to him and not wind my window up or lock the car door.
“How did you guess?” I croak. I'm feeling really self concious and want to cover myself up. I'm not dressed to be in company of anyone else. My car never minds what I wear but I was incredibly worried that I looked a mess. My hair was barely brushed. Messier than my thoughts. My shirt was hastily buttoned and the wind that hit my chest when I opened the window suggested that I hadn't even buttoned it up properly.
He smiles at me and I quickly glance down. Relieved to see that I had pulled a skirt on. He introduced himself to me. I learnt that his name was Craig, and that I had been fortunate enough to run out of petrol a short 10 minute walk from his house and very lucky that he had decided to take the dog for a walk and seen me slumped at the wheel. He was single. Not looking. Which I usually took to mean 'looking but not looking at you'. I hadn't minded. In fact, felt quite relieved because it meant that I didn't have to make an effort with the conversation. It was obvious I was upset about something. Clearly it's not normal to leave the house looking like I did, plus my eyes were puffy from crying and my lips swollen from being kissed.

So I had accompanied him to the house, my hand posed on the rape alarm that I carried I my pocket. There was no one else around but I hoped if I needed to use it the volume would shock him enough to give me the opportunity to run.

We chatted about everything but the reason of why I was in my car, and looking like I did. Drank tea and laughed and I began to feel reasonably normal again.

Until I found myself receiving the second unexpected kiss of the day.......

8: You'll always be my best friend, you know too much!"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 20:49:00 +0000

Kendall and I have been friends for a really long time. Planned to be friends forever. Both of us victims of fate, or at the very least victims of our single working mothers. As luck would have it we started our educational journey at the same school.

I had been excited about the first day. Been ready since birth and had listened to relatives and family friends continually state that I was '5 years old going on 50!' Kendall wasn't so enthusiastic. Her mother had literally had to wrench her free from her legs and force her into the centre of the room. She'd rushed out of the door straight after, possibly because she was late for work. And bumped into my mother who was distracted in the process of calling me back towards her because I had forgotten to take my lunch box from her.

I hadn't liked the sight of Kendall at first. Just as she looks fragile now she looked even more fragile then. At 5 I was so certain of who I was meant to be and what I needed to do to get there. Its funny, because I'm 27 now and I've never been more clueless. So I had befriended Kendall, not because she was someone I would initially choose to be my friend but because at the age of 5 I could see the bigger picture and knew that when play time came I would need someone to play tag with, because I wasn't going to be the freaky child chasing no one but herself.

As Mrs. Bates told us to take our seats I had rushed to make sure I could sit next to her. And in return she had rewarded me with one of her great smiles, something I was so used to now that I took it for granted.

So she had smiled and I had waved and said “Stacy!” before taking my seat. She muttered her name and if I hadn't been sitting so close I would have missed her say “Hi I'm Kendall!”, before she dipped her head back down into her chest and awaited my next vocal interruption.

*

“I'm going to marry him!” I stated. Age 8 I was still so sure of myself. Kendall and I were hiding behind a hedge watching the older kids play football. We were both 8 and had discovered the benefits of gossip. Him was Taye, my friend from another school and my mothers best friends son. Kendall and I had come along way in the past three years, I felt comfortable enough to trust her with my life plan- or the parts of it that I had mapped out already. In return she no longer muttered into her chest and had begun to whole heartedly dig in and participate in all of my schemes.

Taye, the boy who could be friends with everyone and anyone but still managed to make time for me winked across the pitch. Either my 'doo-do' plaits were peeking over the top of the hedge or he was aware of the moving giggling bushes. Taye tolerated Kendall, called her my shadow, which I guess back then she was. I was a natural born leader, and if my class mates a school didn't pick me to lead a task. Well, naturally I took charge anyway.

7."Make friends, make friends....never never break friends?!"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 12:46:00 +0000

I knew him first.

Not an excuse. Just trying to help you understand.

I had him first too.

You know what I mean, don't act shocked. It's not so black and white. I never got jealous of my ex-boyfriends previous girlfriends because that was before me. And when I had him, Kendall didn't, wasn't. They weren't. I kept it a secret. Not ashamed. Okay slightly, I slept with my Best friend. Not just once that time either.

I had sex with my best friend 3 times. I could call him that because he was there as much as Kendall had ever been, sometimes more. So yes, I had sex with my best friend three times. He was my first and he was my current and I know he's meant to be my last.

Three times we coupled like animals, mad for each other. We didn’t make love, we hadn’t had sex. We’d just done it. Done the deed three times, and each time it changed our lives. Ruined his. Ruined mine.

But it had always been a natural reaction. We had always spontaneously sprung together, and after, just as spontaneously sprung apart. Simultaneously moved away from each other like the distance meant we hadn’t been that stupid. Done something stupid. Like we hadn’t been so stupid to do it the first time, and then that second time and finally the third. Would have kept doing stupid things together if I hadn’t taken action and walked away. I'd had to walk away to keep the last bit of dignity that I had left. Lose him in that manner because it was easiest to walk away, make it my choice, then stay. Play pretend for a little while longer that things between us hadn’t changed again. Couldn’t stay, wouldn’t stay, when I knew that sooner or later he’d realise how much things had changed and then I’d lose him all over again anyway. So I pushed all of that into a vault, and Taye, Kendall and I operated in the friendship box. Untill everything changed all over again, and I learned they were dating. If two wrongs won't make a right, try a third?

It started with touches.

Before either of us knew what touches could do. Little gestures, like him stroking the inside of my wrist when I cried, or pulling on my ear lobe when I hadn’t got a joke he’d meant for me to laugh at. Comforting gestures. Mum never got why I pulled at my ear every time I laughed after that. But it was my way of saying its ok, I get the joke now. We gave each other little touches. Like I’d lean into his side knowing his arm would always come round me when I was uncertain or feeling left out.

Little touches.

Him smoothing my hair down, petting it back into place just so that Mum wouldn’t get mad at me later. Make me cry. Scream at me that she didn’t know why she spent so long fixing my hair, threaten me with semi-empty threats about how she was going to shave it all off ‘to teach me not to be so naughty’. She often informed me that she wasn’t going to bother fixing my hair if ‘that was all I was going to do’ after.

Little touches.

Like when he kissed all my cuts and bruises that I got from falling over or failing to keep up with him on one of our adventures. Kissed them because he’d seen both of our mums do it a million times before and he knew that it made me happy.

Aged 10 he was the one waiting when i was upset, there for me knowing he was always the one i would run to first. At age 10 he would wash away my tears mature before his time always beyond his years. Aged 10 he told me he would always make me happy, sworn to it. Been so sincere. Not cared that others teased him for hanging around with me, when I was always going to be two years younger.And later when our two became three and Kendall joined in he hadnt minded. Age 10 he told me that he would always be there to make me happy. And at age 10 when he’d made me that promise, he had meant it.

Age 8 I’d smiled when he said that, happier then he could ever know. Smiled with happiness that only he could give me. Age 8 I’d slipped my smaller hand into his bigger one and held on tightly reminding him that I wasn’t about to let go. Age 8 I’d risen on tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek, giggling when he’d shied away embarrassed. And aged 8 I’d calmly informed him that I was going to marry him one day. Age 8 I’d meant it too.

6. "Nothing's perfect, is it?"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 05:11:00 +0000

I never should have kissed him back. Never should have let him kiss me in the first place. You have no way of knowing if you like something if you haven't tried it., forbidden fruit and all that. I can't even tell you why I did. Or maybe I can, I wanted perfect. At the very least a little taste, and he offered it to me, but nothing is perfect, is it?

"You think he's cheating, you haven't caught him have you?" I ask. I'm treading on a very thin, dangerous line. 'Step on a crack and you break your mother's back!'

She shakes her head, as if clearing her thoughts, her long hair spraying out in all directions framing her fragile face, and she bites her lip. Concentrating.

"A good cheat never gets caught!" She states, with such conviction that I gasp unexpectedly. My Kendall wasn't a cynic. After 22 years of friendship I'd know that. This was a new side of her, a new facet, and I knew that I had inadvertently caused this.

Yet I'm breathing easier now. Relieved. There's no crime without evidence.

"Okay." I take another deep breath, it's so much easier now, prepare myself because I'm about to step even closer to the edge of discovery.

"-what do you want to do?"

Kendall raises her head, eyes bright, smile shining. It's removed all shadows of doubt and concern from her face. I see relief too. Finally our coffee Tuesday is back on track, following schedule just as it should be. We have reached the moment for hypothesising. We're ready to start weighting up the pro's and con's of her pursuing this venture.

"Are you sure?" she asks, she knows me as well as she knows herself. Which is ironic as she should have guessed that I am the other woman. However, she is intuitive enough to realise that I am not all there. Not 100% committed to this. And I'm not. My mobile phone in box full of plenty of reasons pertaining to this. I wanted to keep some of my pennies out of the hat. Not all surprises are good.

I'm scared all over again. Palms sweaty. Anxious. Worried. Concerned. I am losing what little control I have left. I want to freeze time. Stop the moment. I'm honestly worried that this will be the last 'coffee Tuesday' ever. Our last scheming session. And it's not how I would have imagined. Always thought that they would end because we were old and happy. So content in life that we wouldn't have anything to scheme about, wouldn't need to plot. We only ever did this when we were unhappy about something anyway.

I pause, hesitate. Reach inside of my handbag and withdraw my diary. Click the pen on. Flick to the 'To..Do...' section.

Ready!

5. “If the fish had not opened its mouth, it would never have been caught”

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 04:11:00 +0000

I knew him first. Not an excuse, an explanation. At the very least we all deserve one.

Did that make what I had done, am doing, better? No, but can you honestly say it doesn't help explain things at all? He should have been mine. But I didn't think that way when I was 10. Who expects to meet their soul mate at that age. Many woman and men go their whole lives without discovering theirs, so don't hold it against me that I let mine slip away.

We had always been close. And before puberty led us to discover sex and eventually love, we were equals. Taye might have been a guy, genetically predisposed to be stronger than Kendall or I. Yet we held our own. If he wanted to play football and climb trees, than fine, we could too. But it worked both ways, and when we wanted to sit down for girly time and discuss our futures and what we had planned Taye had to join in too. No one would dare label him as gay. He was comfortable in his masculinity from the very start. Almost as if he had been born perfect. He stayed perfect too, made things even worse. And because he was so perfect I resisted. Scorned his advances when I later realised that him teasing and pushing and tickling me and all the other little signs were his non-verbal communication of attraction. Trouble was my very verbal put downs soon sent him to number three, Kendall. Who, unfortunately is as perfect as him. Ying and Yang. Taye and Kendall fit. I sometimes found myself watching them. Her with her mocha skin, straight hair and Brazilian features. Him with his deep rich chocolate eyes, constant easy smile and toned flawless body fit. They just fit.

I was jealous. Not an excuse. I just want you to understand. Need to understand myself!

I didn't try to steal him. I was happy with Craig, had even allowed myself to contemplate a future with him. Problem is Craig was comfortable. As an earthquake his seismic waves are barely detectable. So why stay with him? Because I liked him. I like him. A lot. He wasn't my cover story, a carefully laid plan. That requires forethought and this honestly wasn't premeditated.

Two perfect people. Throw me into the equation and things aren't so perfect. Whilst far enough from ugly, I am not an obvious beauty. Sometimes guys would have to look twice to realise I am a gem. A jewel worth more than a quick glance or a second inspection. I never was playing hard to get if you told me I looked great and I shrugged it off. Kendall knew that, problem is so did Taye.

I don't know who I am any more. I can't see a bigger picture. I'm stuck in the moment trapped by my lies. I hate myself. I hate who I am and what I have lost to get there. 'He who pays the piper, calls the tune".

I can blame no one but myself. I wouldn't want to be my own friend and yet I still hope Kendall will want to be. I once read 'that most affairs aren't sought, they usually happen at a vulnerable time'. There's nothing vulnerable about a brick wall. It's meant to be impenetrable, isn't it?!

4."L.O.V.E."

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 02:40:00 +0000

LOVE.

Four letters, one word. Simple.
Four letters, that in reality are far from simple.

My life before love was simple, and I could be described using simple sentances.

I was Stacy.
Kendall's Best friend.
Craig's Girlfriend
Taye's Girlfriend's Best friend.
Taye's friend.

Stacy,
SIMPLE.

Now?

Obviously there's no simple lines. I'm stuck with the choice of confessing and breaking my Best friend or piling on more lies to hide an ugly truth. It's hard and it's not simple. I can't bring myself to use these simple descriptions anymore. I'm not the best. Not the Best friend anyway. Girlfriend? I'd become more girl than friend, gotten lost somewhere along the way. Lost and caught up in Taye.

It's complicated. But who wants to listen to excuses? Feeble explanations for awful inexcusable actions, they weren't welcome here!
The creator of the love triangle has got it all wrong. Love knows no shapes or boundaries. Nothing is simple or easy. There's not always three parts to a story, sometimes theres four. And when there is more, is there anyone willing enough to wait and listen? Take all into consideration and withhold prejudice? And when love takes on a shape more complex than a triangle, then what? Well, thing's get messy.

It's spilled into all aspects of my life. A dirty little secret, which in the harsh light of day seems far dirtier! A secret on the verge of discovery. I had done something wrong. I feel sick, and I won't feel better until I make things right.

I am Stacy.

As to everything else? Well, your guess is as good as mine!

3."A lie is only a lie if people know!"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 18:28:00 +0000

I'm speechless!
No words available, which is a first. And I have two available options, neither of which is particularly characteristic of me.

Firstly, I could change the topic. Tell her that just the other day I had purchased the greatest dress - perfect for New years Eve! Not tell her that, the dress was in fact chosen and paid for by Taye, her boyfriend. Nor how he had made me model it for him, struck a catwalk in the changing room and not cared who was watching as an appreciative grin spread across his face. Everyone knew we weren't going to do any more shopping that day.

Alternatively, I can act as expected. Throw on an annoyed expression and be upset and concerned on her behalf. It wouldn't be a lie. I am disappointed, in myself. Disappointed in the fact that he isn't quite the dream man because no dream would do this Disappointed too that I could no longer possibly call myself her best friend. And on top of that I was upset. Truly. Ordinarily I loved our 'Coffee Tuesdays'. I had to wait a whole week just to get back there again. One afternoon that Kendall and I had dedicated to catching up and keeping in touch. We refused to be those childhood friends that always, with the best intention planned to keep up but it never quite happened.

I'm breathing slowly and evenly, attempting to placate myself with some form of false hope that everything will be okay, normal. NORMAL??? Like I even had a concept of what constituted as normal anymore!

Kendall sighs and I'm brought straight back to the present. Made aware of the fact that her smile doesn't impact any of her features except her lips.

If it were anyone else sighing so much in one conversation I would already be onto eye roll number 5 and inside I'd be thinking "drama queen" and "shut the hell up!"

But it's Kendall my non violent friend who offered to beat up my ex boyfriend when he dumped me because he "had found someone better, a real babe!"

So I concentrate.

2. “To cheat oneself out of love is the most terrible deception"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 17:56:00 +0000

"I think he's cheating on me", she half whispered it whilst absently stirring sugar into her coffee so that I was uncertain of whether she had actually said it or if i was projecting my instability again.

My heart stopped beating and I struggled to remain calm. Quickly gulping down mouth fulls of scalding Hot Chocolate, nodding my head and attempting to hide my reaction. It burnt the roof of my mouth choking me as much as the guilt I held over my own behaviour.
The process causing me to screech out "Whaaaaaaaaaat???" sounding far more panicked than I had intended.

In all honesty I had imagined confessing so many times. Pictured it all in my head down to the most minute of details. I could tell you exactly what I would be wearing and how I'd style my hair. Knew that I planned to be standing and not sitting when said confession was announced so that I could run if things turned violent. See I knew I purchased good trainers for a reason and I planned to wear them with joggers and a tank top under the guise of being on my way to the gym, and I'd even joined the gym and am happy to say that I'm at the peak of my physical fitness.

In reality I had grown far too comfortable in my current position. It should'nt be easy to juggle a best friend, a boyfriend and a 'boyfriend-ish' (the guy I was cheating with) so easily, or else everyone would do it. That should have been sign number one that the end is nigh!

Kendall was looking at me, waiting for one of my usual long winded hypothesis so that we could hash out every possible ending, it's alternative and possible excuses.

I stalled.

Dabbed at my mouth with a napkin, stalled for time whilst i tried to gage what her next words might be. Considered how best to proceed with this as I smoothed my nearly drenched sweaty palms down my thighs, clenched my fingers into the excess fabric of my trouser legs and tried to discreetly shift in my seat. Dubiously I glanced downwards, eyed the shoes I had put on my feet. HEELS!!! They were useless in a fight or flight situation, I was no where near ghetto enough to wield them as a weapon against my best friend. Mistake number one of the day. Mistake number two? meeting Kendall for coffee.

"I know we promised we would never be the neurotic girlfriends." she sighs. My cue to say something supportive like "If you're thinking this then something must be up!"
Instead I nod my head faster.....I can't help, it before you know I'll be saying 'ooooooooooh yes' and churchhill will be out of a job.

1."CHEAT"

noreply@blogger.com (Kristina) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 08:04:00 +0000

I am a cheat.

And I know what I am doing is wrong. I feel sick to my stomach all the time and have difficulty breathing just thinking about it. Sicker still at the thought of getting caught!
I want to stop, but more than that I want to carry on because I believe something can become of this. I am the girl most girlfriends worry about but hope doesn't actually exist. I am who he is meeting when he tells you 'he can't see you tonight because he's having dinner with Gran'. It's me making him sweaty on Sunday and not 'footy with the lads', they think hes hurt his hand, given him time off for injury. It works just fine when hes stripping off my clothes and running his palm up and down my skin.

I am cheating.

It's immoral and something I swore I could never do. Would never do. "Never say never" because never has just come. I am cheating with him, but not only that, I am cheating myself. I deserve better than sly meetings quickly arranged when its convenient for both of us and no one is around for us to get caught.

8 months ago I said i would quit.

End things before I invested more time and emotion into 'a relationship' that was likely to cause nothing but pain.

I am addicted.

Just can't get enough of him. It's bordering on obsession. I see his face when I am making love to my boyfriend. Feel disappointed when i get a phone call and the voice on the other end is not his. I am an addict and want to quit, but when all is said and done I'm stuck on the high. I am addicted and worse still I think he knows. Calls me just when I am about ready to walk away. Reels me back in when my confidence is wavering and I feel cheap, because a couple of whispered sweet nothings and I am right back in there. Once again tricked into thinking he's worth it.

That together we're worth it.

That the 'girlfriend code' means nothing because I could possibly have a future with him. All those adolescent promises, 'chicks over dicks', 'hoes over bros' and 'sisters over misters' were simply cliches.

Was I meant to pick my best friend who I had already dedicated 22 years of my life to, over the possibility of dedicating the rest of my life to the man of my dreams?
The one guy who had managed to bring the words "I Love You" to the tip of my tongue. So that at the beginning, middle and end of every conversation a battle of words ensued in my mouth. I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I'd said 'I...i...i...L...l.l.l....like you' in response to his numerous declarations of love. I whole heartedly put both my hands and feet into this 'relationship' (and every other body part since we were intimate) but I didn't want to commit my heart as well as my soul!

He was the dream guy.

When I was eleven I had planned my life out so well. I knew for sure that when I was older I would be Beautiful, Rich and Famous. I'd have the car that everyone wanted. More girls would hate me than like me, because I'd be perfect. And I'd have the perfect dream man.
I never would have guessed that the dream man I was so hooked on wasn't my dream but my best friend's.

Seems like I'm cheating on everyone.