Inconvenient Truth

He’s married.  
And, he doesn’t want you to know.    
    
The thrill-  
he gets from the chase.    
The rush-  
he gets from the sexy flirtations.    
     
Keeping you  
at just enough  
of a hopeful distance,  
(on your part)    
to keep you coming back.    
     
He’s jizzing  
at this very moment      
at the thought of himself      
holding you  
enthralled      
about  
him.    
     
Let me guess...  
he’s been  
understanding  
and empathetic      
to your needs.    
 
You’ve been sad  
and he’s shown you  
a kindness.    
     
You’ve cracked some jokes-  
to show your witty side  
he’s laughed,  
deep and hearty,  
making you feel  
like you’ve made  
him  
feel  
good.    
     
Now, you’ve begun the sexual innuendos.    
Slow and overt at first, increasing  
in covert meaning and intensity-  
trying to figure out why he won’t commit?    
     
He finally comes clean      
about his circumstances.    
His sad lonely marriage,    
the long unrewarded hours at the job,  
his children who need too much of everything,  
the wife who doesn’t pay attention to him.    
     
You feel sad for him    
 You know you can make him happy!  
Satisfy him in bed,  
sate every base need  
in which he tells you  
the wife has no interest.    
     
You’ll be the best friend  
his children could ever want  
in a step-mother  
that’s how  
great  
you  
are.      
     
You’ll make all those promises of endless sex.  
Morning, noon, and night in every crevice,  
on every surface of the house,  
the filthy public rest room,  
a cloak closet at your favorite restaurant.  
Anal whenever he desires it,  
oral anywhere he craves it,  
threesomes with whomever he chooses.  
All because you’re desperate.      
     
You’ll tell him all this  
so he knows how willing you are.    
Willing to make his life so much better.  
 
Just you two.  
 
How snug.      
     
Then you’ll begin to notice~  
the minute to minute texts turn hourly.  
Emails getting stretched to once, maybe twice a day.    
     
Your phone calls go to voice mail.  
     
You’ll get a response...eventually.    
     
Work has been chaotic.  
The kids have been sick,  
the wife found a letter...      
     
You might be understanding  
but you’ll begin to wonder.  
Give it a week.      
     
You’ll start to fall in line.    
Little by little    
that veneer you have-
the one where you know  
you’ll be so different from “her”,  
and being so much better  
for him than “she” is,  
will begin to crack.    
     
When he cancels at the last minute,  
your carefully planned romantic dinner…
where you wear your best whore’s lingerie  
for the $150 meal you bought,  
and couldn’t really afford,  
goes cold
 
you’ll realize then  
what you’ve become...    
     
like me...    
     
An inconvenient truth.