Week Five - not my best work. :( Came in joint fourth but there were other joint winners up ahead of me ... it's ok. All writing is good and you always learn something new!!
MY ADDICTION
I’ve always been a one-woman man. So it scares me to tell you that I think I’m falling in love with somebody else, somebody new.
I never expected that this could happen to me. We’ve been married for nearly four years and my gorgeous wife—well, to put it simply, she owns me, body and soul. She’s the one I fell in love with in high school, she’s the one who dried my tears when my dad died unexpectedly, and she’s the one I plan to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t think I even know how to love more than one woman at a time.
But these days I find myself consumed, and I mean totally consumed, with thoughts of—her. Day and night, at work and at home, in the car, on my bike, while swimming, walking, sleeping, she’s right there with me. I’m even dreaming about her, and that makes me afraid, because deep down I know—know with every fiber of my being—that this relationship is going to be the one that changes everything. How do people cope with something like this? Just the thought of loving two women at the same time scares me silly. But this new love of mine is like an addiction—I can’t seem to it let go.
And to tell you the truth? I don’t want to let it go.
It was my wife who first told me about her. She sat me down one day and told me all about her, told me when she’d be arriving, what she’d want to eat, where she should sleep—you know, all the basic, practical stuff you take care of when a stranger moves in to share your home. To tell the truth, I was a bit nervous about the whole thing to start with but gradually I found myself getting more and more interested. But it wasn’t until I saw a picture of her that this whole falling-in-love thing began.
It wasn’t even a particularly good picture, mind you. A bit grainy and out of focus, none too clear at all. When I was alone, though, I used to run my finger down the curve of her back, trace the delicate outline of her hands, and imagine I could see sweetness on her face. There was just something about that picture that gave me a glimpse into the true heart of her, of who she really was as a person.
And bam, just like that, it happened. I fell in love.
I tried to cover it up, tried to pretend it was just ordinary interest I was feeling. But in private I started counting the days until her arrival. I worked hard getting her room ready, making it special. I thought about her constantly. Imagined walking with her on a beach, cuddling with her on the sofa at night, making her feel special and loved and adored. Yes, I know its all fantasy, an idealized version of how I’d like things to be, but still. I’m utterly addicted to the idea of her. I can almost see her at times, smiling at me across the breakfast table or holding my hand as we walk down the street. Sometimes at night, if I hold my wife close and run my hands over her body, it’s as if I can feel her, right there with me and I have to I hold my breath as the longing sweeps over me
I know things won’t be easy when she finally gets here. Likely as not there’ll be yelling and screaming to start with—real blood, sweat and tears stuff. Later, there’ll be late nights and early mornings, missed meals and rushed conversations, tiredness and misunderstandings and angry retorts—all the upheaval that comes when three lives are blending into one. But I’m quite sure we’ll weather it and I’m even more sure that in the end, we’ll be fine. All three of us. Because there’ll also be love. Lots and lots and lots of love, and joy, and fun, and a goofy, delirious happiness.
You probably think I’m delusional, right? Living in a dream world? Well, let me tell you that—oh, hold on a moment, please. I see my wife is here, standing in the doorway looking both excited and scared.
“I think it’s time,” she tells me, pulling a wry face. “She’s on her way.”
My God, I think, it’s happening at last. I try to stay calm, but inside I’m absolutely throbbing with excitement. I cross the room, kiss my wife long and hard, then, dropping to my knees, I press my cheek close to the distended bulge of her belly.
“Hey my darling,” I whisper and plant a kiss where I think my daughter’s head might be. “I just can’t wait to meet you….”
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