I remember the day that I met my first Love. My eyes were transfixed, unable to shift my gaze from the magnetic lure of her twin pools. As I stood there with anticipation trying to peel my eyes off of her physique, she winked and smiled. I was drawn and captivated by her charm. We shared a moment in time, but it was enough to reel me in. We did not have a typical relationship because she did not like to share exclusivity. She said she had other interest’s. Being the gentleman, I respected her wishes.
We had many honeymoons even though we were not married. She made it clear that I was to shed all notions of marriage early on. She was my secret lover and we had so many overtures. Yet, we were unequally yoked and I was at her beck and call, always pliable to her whim’s. Before I could even get comfortable enough to know her well, she outed me. She made a mockery out of me before the crowds. While I perspired and flailed my arms in anguish, she stood quietly by my side smiling in mockery. I could not read her expression, even though I knew that she did not mean well. She knew all of my intimate secrets, my vile passions and my disgustingly debased mind. I later realized that a constant barrage of embarrassment and humiliation was to become the basis of our unhealthy relationship. When we were done with each other she left me to let me play with her best friends.
My Love was a jealous creature. She would not let me have any other. When I got married to my first wife, she dismissed her unceremoniously; without even acknowledging her rights over the relationship that I shared with her. My Love was extremely contented with her actions and welcomed me back with great fervour. We continued to have a relationship until I met my second wife. I knew that I should have said goodbye and broken my relationship with my Love. But she would not allow me, so we continued to see each other secretly. My wife was aware of our dalliances and she ignored my “Love” for as long as she could. Until one day; when I had to choose between the two.
In spite of the suffering and humiliation that I received from my Love, I was still addicted to her effervescence and ebullience. She was always ready to please and she was always wanting. She was an immortal, blessed with the youth of a teenager and she promised me the same. Together we were eternally young and our playgrounds were forever the same. The scripts we used in our dialogue’s rarely changed. We had a one track mind. Such was our compatibility. But it was all a big lie… A lie that I swallowed wholeheartedly.
Now, as I look in the mirror, I see my true self. An old man wrinkled and weathered by time. There was no beauty to behold, nothing but the shackled frame of a libidinous old cripple lost to the test of time. I looked around searching for my Love, instead, I felt the cold emptiness of the room. Lights flickered from the screen, skewing reality from fantasy. Gone were the smoothness of her words, instead he was confronted by the sharp reality of a bygone era. My Love had finally left me for younger prospects, but I was still allowed to play with her friends: Depression, Isolation and Anxiety.
As I sat alone brooding, I remembered a long lost voice, a voice of reason and kindness that I had once heard from a fellow traveller, my wife
Life Less Ordinary 
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