Let’s just say that this time, this moment,  you are my man. My signifact other. The one that i have decided to do the forever thing with.

Let’s pretend that factors don’t exist. That precousors don’t matter. Let’s pretend that our coexisitance does. That our coupling was written in the stairs with every possiblity imaginable.

Yes, let’s play the old game of pretend. Dream of endless scenarios in which starrs you and I. Imagining out hands entwined with on nother. Walking down the street,  laughing, joylously. That the illusion of time doesn’t exist while we stare deep into each others eyes. Getting lost in enternity of memories created in love.

Hopelessly so,  I pretend.

I pretend that the days spent with him will lead to more days, countering into years. I pretend that how we intially started the converstation didnt start with ugly grunts and cardnial desires. I pretend that he and I shared a coffee which lead to now spending time with hom and his home.

I pretend that the fact he copulated long before he met me,  doesnt bother me. That he forever has ties to a woman that couldnt have ended after that night. I pretend that he still is married doesnt bother me. Doesn’t sadden me when thinking that in my persuits of happiness,  that i’ll never be the first,  or even his first.

I pretend that his lack of willingness of sex is the very thing my body desires. That my exessive need for pleasure is not as pressing as needing a warm body. That the lack or orgasms doesnt drive me insane and the spoonful given does suffice. 

ALL these things, I pretend that this is real life. That this is what I want. All the while, my insides scream,  claw ravously,  breaking away a shell of who I am.