An Emotional Affair Part II

"Laney" as I call him, and I have been speaking off and on for roughly 6 years now. My feelings for him much like my bipolar cycle. There have been occasions in the past where things heat up again and I think maybe it will go back to being what it once was. And one minute he has all the time in the world for me and the next he treats me as though I am bothersome, too high maintenance and too time consuming to deal with. I have spent much of our supposed relationship at his beckon call. I joke with him and say I am his life coach- for lack of a better word because he always comes to me with his problems, and is always looking for direction when it comes to his personal and professional life. He on the other hand is rather elusive when I need him. His children are sick, he has appointments or previous engagements which keep him from giving me more than snippets of conversation.

There is part of me that hates him and another part which romanticism all the things I thought ideal and could have been several years ago.

Approximately 2 years ago, when I was taking another stab at college, he found himself needing me again. The calling became constant, I became his phone whore on command and when I told him I thought we should stop speaking he began to threaten me again by claiming he would call my husband. This time his threat did not endear me. It was no longer complimentary but instead controlling. I spend much of my life being controlled in some fashion or another-mainly by my husband. I decided he too would not have that kind of power in my life. So I wrote a rather risque poem and submitted to the university's quarterly writing journal. I thought if nothing else I could send a copy of it to his wife if he continued to threaten me. The poem is not accurate in the sense that we had sex but it plants the seed, and at the time I thought it only appropriate that I dole out to him the same medicine he has given to me.

The Things He Said

Perhaps I should call your wife
Breathless
Almost speechless
Moaning, groaning writhing on the floor

Pay no mind
Your marriage is over

Maybe I should call your son's mother, your lover, your one time best friend
And let her know who it is that you really love
Maybe I should let her know all the stars in heaven shine in between my thighs
And my lips are more intoxicating than Solomon's wine

Hand in the receiver
Waiting to receive
I have been waiting for a very long time
Head cocked, hand cramped
No more dial tone
Just dead

I've been waiting to hear from her
Waiting on a call from her
Breathless
Almost speechless
Moaning, groaning, writhing on the floor

Pay no mind
This torrid intrigue is over

She just fucked my boyfriend
Who happens to be her husband
Maybe she will let me know all of the earths honey flows between her thighs
And her lips are sweeter than Cleopatra's honey

And then we shall finally agree
We are both in love with a liar
Reckless and loveless we lie speechless on the floor

It was months before it was published and long before it was, he and I had stopped speaking once again. I don't think I would have sent it to his wife, but it sure felt good thinking that I could.